Winter Prompt for Moonbeamdancer. "Say Yes"
So, apparently my muse was at the bottom of a new bottle of fountain-pen ink. Whodathunkit? Coupled with the delightful inspiration from a recent snowfall, I’m starting to post and share the Winter 2011 Prompt List fills. This one is for moonbeamdancer, who asked for: “Supernatural, J2, something with kittens and a marriage proposal.” Hopefully this hits the spot. ^.^
**********************
It was all Jensen’s fault, really. Whenever asked, Jared always made sure to firmly point the blame to Jensen.
After all, it was Jensen who froze on the short walk to the car, head tipped like Sadie when she’s watching a bird. “Jensen?”
“Shh.”
It was amusing to watch, Jensen slowly swiveling, eyes a little unfocused. Jared tucked his hands into his coat, hunching a little against the chill wind. “What are you doing, man?”
“Don’t you hear that?”
Jared was about to inquire as to what, exactly, he’s supposed to be hearing, when the wind shifted just right, and then he heard it. A tiny little mewl, followed quickly by another. It took a few minutes of starts and stops, ears straining for the quiet noises, before they found the two kittens, huddled up against each other in the small space between the trashcans on the set. When he saw Jensen reach towards them, Jared had quickly grabbed his arm. “Dude, you can’t touch them! The momma cat won’t take ‘em back after that.”
“One, cats are one of the few animals that will take back their young after humans have touched them. And two… Jared, look around. I don’ think she’s coming back for them.” Jensen reached for them again, stroking a finger along one. The kitten feebly lifted its head, mouth open as it silently hissed at them, but the eyes stayed closed. And Jared knew they were screwed when Jensen shifted his weight a bit, eyes crinkling in worry. “They’re cold, too.”
“Jens, it’s eleven-thirty at night. I don’t know anything about taking care of kittens, and none of the shelters are going to be open. And what if the Mom cat comes back?” It was kind of useless to argue, and Jared was already unzipping his coat a bit, knowing how this was going to end. People teased him about his soft spot for animals, but nobody ever really seemed to notice Jensen’s soft spot for any baby.
It was almost annoying at times, if it the sight of his boyfriend with a tiny little being cuddled up against him wasn’t so utterly adorable.
Green eyes met hazel for a moment, and Jared just smiled ruefully as Jensen scooped up the kittens, murmuring something to them as he stood back up. “Mom’s taken in a few kittens before. It’s late, but I don’t think she’ll mind a phone call. And we’ll find something to do with them later. I can’t just leave them out here.” Not that Jared could either, and he instantly understood the worry when Jensen tucked the little bodies between the soft Henley and the button up, the chill seeping down to his skin quickly.
It took about a half hour with Jensen’s momma to get the basics jotted down. Donna had Jensen snap a picture with his cell, texting it to her, and she had told them that the kittens are less than a week old. She made sure to go over cleaning the kittens (which Jared totally makes a face at, learning what’s entailed), gave them a recipe for ‘emergency’ kitten formula, and a list of what they’d need when the shops open in the morning. And she all but howled with laughter when Jared said they’ll just move them to a shelter in the morning. “The shelters won’t take them, boys. You’ve got very fragile, demanding little ones on your hands. They need to stay warm, and they’ll need to be made to go potty and fed every two hours. No shelter will have time for them… most will just put them down when you leave. Best bet is to stick it out for the next few weeks, if they make it.”
Jared ignored the cold, oily feeling that curls in his stomach at the thought.
The kittens weren’t pleased with the idea of nursing from the eyedropper Jensen had stashed in the junk drawer, and even less pleased with the bath they were subjected to later. By two am though, all four were quietly passed out in Jared’s bed, kittens secure and warm in the space between the actors. It lasted until three, when the black one started crying again, waking up its sibling, and started the whole thing over again.
Clif barely smothered a grin when they stumble out the next morning, Jensen holding two coffees and glaring, and Jared cuddling two kittens against his chest. The driver-slash-body-guard swore he didn’t mind stopping by the store and getting the things Donna insisted they need, and thankfully, they’re wrapping up the last of the episode that day. Jared and Jensen have a few lines to dub over, and then the rest of the day free, into the next week, when they pick up the next episode. The director softened a little at the twin babies, agreeing that they can stay on set, provided everything still gets done.
It’s amazing how many women are on set, especially when word gets out that the actors had small kittens they’re toting around. It wasn’t long before the kittens got ‘cat-napped’ as someone will ‘give you two a break, just for a bit’, returning the squalling felines in time for a new meal. Jensen spent his lunch break mixing formula and trying to convince the two that they’d really rather take the formula than scream. Jared, on the other hand, quietly fretted when phone calls to the shelters confirm what Donna said: No shelter will take them as young as they are.
“So we keep them for a few weeks. You’re telling me that we won’t find someone on set willing to take two adorable kittens? Just keep the dogs from eating them, and we’ll be set,” Jensen remarked, inanely proud when the black one finally latched onto the rubber nipple, the frantic suckling noises spurring the white one to root and squall louder. It took a moment of quite for Jensen to glance up, and he stifled a laugh at the look of panic on Jared’s face. The two dogs had spent the night at the sitters, and Jensen didn’t think it’d be as doomed as Jared obviously thought.
**************
It took another day of constant attention before “Kitten A” and “Kitten B”, “Him” and “Her” and “Blackie” and “Whitey” proved the need for actual names. Jared had the realization that the kittens were likely stay around when he got back one morning from talking the dogs, to have Jensen heft up the black kitten, and then the white, saying “Meet Alamo, and Crockett.”
Jared leaned against the door frame, raising a brow. “Alamo and Crockett, huh?”
Jensen just shrugged, setting the kittens back on the floor and watching them try to stand on the carpeting, tiny legs all wobbly. “Beats Blackie and Whitey. We were starting to get some really weird looks for those.”
Jared shook his head, making his way to the kitchen for his coffee. “Still think Bonnie and Clyde was a better choice!”
Obviously, Jensen’s momma never told him about naming things. But Jared has to admit, that after already, the two cats have wriggled their way into their home. This too, is Jensen’s fault.
*************
And it was Jensen that taught Alamo to fetch. Granted, it was unexpected. He’d been trying to finish the last chapter of his book, and everything seemed out to stop him from his goal. When the wad of paper dropped over his shoulder, into the crease of the book, he lost his temper for a moment, chucking the paper across the room. And realized his mistake when Alamo launched off the back of the chair, skittering in his frantic scramble for the paper. A minute later, he came trotting back, little wiry tail held up so proudly as he spat it out for his Daddy again.
So a little less than a year later, when the two have garnered a reputation as trouble-makers and mischievous devils, Jensen feels fully justified in ignoring the first wad of paper Alamo drops on him. It’s giftwrap, and a part of him thinks that maybe he should investigate, because if the kitten is into the wrapping paper already, they’re going to have issues. He’s already determined that his lover is insane, by the fact that Jared still insisted on fully decorating, despite the two whirlwinds that even wear out the dogs. And considering that the tree wasn’t even fully upright yet before Crockett zoomed up the trunk, staring out with eerie green eyes and chittered, he knows he’s right.
But Alamo does his little chirping noise, and then trots back into the kitchen. Jensen shrugs, returning to his crossword, but Alamo is back a few moments later, another wad of paper. He drops it on Jensen, chirps, and takes off again.
The sixth wad of paper, he can’t restrain his curiosity, so he hefts it. It’s been neatly crumpled, oxymoron that it is, not the result of actual shredding. He wonders if maybe Jared is wrapping gifts already, so he leans back in the chair soas not to deafen Crockett, who’s dozing on the armrest. “Yo, Jared!” Silence answers him, and he frowns. “Jared?”
Alamo head-butts his leg, dropping another wad of paper, and Jensen un-crumples it.
It’s Jared’s handwriting, and Jensen tries to ignore the fluttering in his belly as he smooths out the other papers.
They all say the same thing. Including the newest that Alamo brought from the kitchen. Jensen stands up, ignoring the glare from Crockett, and licks his bottom lip, feeling a bit surreal. Surely he’s mistaking the whole thing, because really, it’s silly.
Until he turns the corner, and Jared is on one knee, forearm resting on his upright knee, and an open black velvet box in his hands. The hazel eyes are impish and barely covering a faint look of unease. The silver band glitters in the light from the string of lights in the hallway, and Jensen knows that this moment, every last detail, will be forever imprinted on his brain. He doesn’t even realize he’s not breathing until Jared quirks a grin and holds up the box.
“So what do you say?”
Really, there’s only one answer he can give to that.
**********************
It was all Jensen’s fault, really. Whenever asked, Jared always made sure to firmly point the blame to Jensen.
After all, it was Jensen who froze on the short walk to the car, head tipped like Sadie when she’s watching a bird. “Jensen?”
“Shh.”
It was amusing to watch, Jensen slowly swiveling, eyes a little unfocused. Jared tucked his hands into his coat, hunching a little against the chill wind. “What are you doing, man?”
“Don’t you hear that?”
Jared was about to inquire as to what, exactly, he’s supposed to be hearing, when the wind shifted just right, and then he heard it. A tiny little mewl, followed quickly by another. It took a few minutes of starts and stops, ears straining for the quiet noises, before they found the two kittens, huddled up against each other in the small space between the trashcans on the set. When he saw Jensen reach towards them, Jared had quickly grabbed his arm. “Dude, you can’t touch them! The momma cat won’t take ‘em back after that.”
“One, cats are one of the few animals that will take back their young after humans have touched them. And two… Jared, look around. I don’ think she’s coming back for them.” Jensen reached for them again, stroking a finger along one. The kitten feebly lifted its head, mouth open as it silently hissed at them, but the eyes stayed closed. And Jared knew they were screwed when Jensen shifted his weight a bit, eyes crinkling in worry. “They’re cold, too.”
“Jens, it’s eleven-thirty at night. I don’t know anything about taking care of kittens, and none of the shelters are going to be open. And what if the Mom cat comes back?” It was kind of useless to argue, and Jared was already unzipping his coat a bit, knowing how this was going to end. People teased him about his soft spot for animals, but nobody ever really seemed to notice Jensen’s soft spot for any baby.
It was almost annoying at times, if it the sight of his boyfriend with a tiny little being cuddled up against him wasn’t so utterly adorable.
Green eyes met hazel for a moment, and Jared just smiled ruefully as Jensen scooped up the kittens, murmuring something to them as he stood back up. “Mom’s taken in a few kittens before. It’s late, but I don’t think she’ll mind a phone call. And we’ll find something to do with them later. I can’t just leave them out here.” Not that Jared could either, and he instantly understood the worry when Jensen tucked the little bodies between the soft Henley and the button up, the chill seeping down to his skin quickly.
It took about a half hour with Jensen’s momma to get the basics jotted down. Donna had Jensen snap a picture with his cell, texting it to her, and she had told them that the kittens are less than a week old. She made sure to go over cleaning the kittens (which Jared totally makes a face at, learning what’s entailed), gave them a recipe for ‘emergency’ kitten formula, and a list of what they’d need when the shops open in the morning. And she all but howled with laughter when Jared said they’ll just move them to a shelter in the morning. “The shelters won’t take them, boys. You’ve got very fragile, demanding little ones on your hands. They need to stay warm, and they’ll need to be made to go potty and fed every two hours. No shelter will have time for them… most will just put them down when you leave. Best bet is to stick it out for the next few weeks, if they make it.”
Jared ignored the cold, oily feeling that curls in his stomach at the thought.
The kittens weren’t pleased with the idea of nursing from the eyedropper Jensen had stashed in the junk drawer, and even less pleased with the bath they were subjected to later. By two am though, all four were quietly passed out in Jared’s bed, kittens secure and warm in the space between the actors. It lasted until three, when the black one started crying again, waking up its sibling, and started the whole thing over again.
Clif barely smothered a grin when they stumble out the next morning, Jensen holding two coffees and glaring, and Jared cuddling two kittens against his chest. The driver-slash-body-guard swore he didn’t mind stopping by the store and getting the things Donna insisted they need, and thankfully, they’re wrapping up the last of the episode that day. Jared and Jensen have a few lines to dub over, and then the rest of the day free, into the next week, when they pick up the next episode. The director softened a little at the twin babies, agreeing that they can stay on set, provided everything still gets done.
It’s amazing how many women are on set, especially when word gets out that the actors had small kittens they’re toting around. It wasn’t long before the kittens got ‘cat-napped’ as someone will ‘give you two a break, just for a bit’, returning the squalling felines in time for a new meal. Jensen spent his lunch break mixing formula and trying to convince the two that they’d really rather take the formula than scream. Jared, on the other hand, quietly fretted when phone calls to the shelters confirm what Donna said: No shelter will take them as young as they are.
“So we keep them for a few weeks. You’re telling me that we won’t find someone on set willing to take two adorable kittens? Just keep the dogs from eating them, and we’ll be set,” Jensen remarked, inanely proud when the black one finally latched onto the rubber nipple, the frantic suckling noises spurring the white one to root and squall louder. It took a moment of quite for Jensen to glance up, and he stifled a laugh at the look of panic on Jared’s face. The two dogs had spent the night at the sitters, and Jensen didn’t think it’d be as doomed as Jared obviously thought.
**************
It took another day of constant attention before “Kitten A” and “Kitten B”, “Him” and “Her” and “Blackie” and “Whitey” proved the need for actual names. Jared had the realization that the kittens were likely stay around when he got back one morning from talking the dogs, to have Jensen heft up the black kitten, and then the white, saying “Meet Alamo, and Crockett.”
Jared leaned against the door frame, raising a brow. “Alamo and Crockett, huh?”
Jensen just shrugged, setting the kittens back on the floor and watching them try to stand on the carpeting, tiny legs all wobbly. “Beats Blackie and Whitey. We were starting to get some really weird looks for those.”
Jared shook his head, making his way to the kitchen for his coffee. “Still think Bonnie and Clyde was a better choice!”
Obviously, Jensen’s momma never told him about naming things. But Jared has to admit, that after already, the two cats have wriggled their way into their home. This too, is Jensen’s fault.
*************
And it was Jensen that taught Alamo to fetch. Granted, it was unexpected. He’d been trying to finish the last chapter of his book, and everything seemed out to stop him from his goal. When the wad of paper dropped over his shoulder, into the crease of the book, he lost his temper for a moment, chucking the paper across the room. And realized his mistake when Alamo launched off the back of the chair, skittering in his frantic scramble for the paper. A minute later, he came trotting back, little wiry tail held up so proudly as he spat it out for his Daddy again.
So a little less than a year later, when the two have garnered a reputation as trouble-makers and mischievous devils, Jensen feels fully justified in ignoring the first wad of paper Alamo drops on him. It’s giftwrap, and a part of him thinks that maybe he should investigate, because if the kitten is into the wrapping paper already, they’re going to have issues. He’s already determined that his lover is insane, by the fact that Jared still insisted on fully decorating, despite the two whirlwinds that even wear out the dogs. And considering that the tree wasn’t even fully upright yet before Crockett zoomed up the trunk, staring out with eerie green eyes and chittered, he knows he’s right.
But Alamo does his little chirping noise, and then trots back into the kitchen. Jensen shrugs, returning to his crossword, but Alamo is back a few moments later, another wad of paper. He drops it on Jensen, chirps, and takes off again.
The sixth wad of paper, he can’t restrain his curiosity, so he hefts it. It’s been neatly crumpled, oxymoron that it is, not the result of actual shredding. He wonders if maybe Jared is wrapping gifts already, so he leans back in the chair soas not to deafen Crockett, who’s dozing on the armrest. “Yo, Jared!” Silence answers him, and he frowns. “Jared?”
Alamo head-butts his leg, dropping another wad of paper, and Jensen un-crumples it.
It’s Jared’s handwriting, and Jensen tries to ignore the fluttering in his belly as he smooths out the other papers.
They all say the same thing. Including the newest that Alamo brought from the kitchen. Jensen stands up, ignoring the glare from Crockett, and licks his bottom lip, feeling a bit surreal. Surely he’s mistaking the whole thing, because really, it’s silly.
Until he turns the corner, and Jared is on one knee, forearm resting on his upright knee, and an open black velvet box in his hands. The hazel eyes are impish and barely covering a faint look of unease. The silver band glitters in the light from the string of lights in the hallway, and Jensen knows that this moment, every last detail, will be forever imprinted on his brain. He doesn’t even realize he’s not breathing until Jared quirks a grin and holds up the box.
“So what do you say?”
Really, there’s only one answer he can give to that.