Tha Banker and the Hooligan, Part One

[silverraven]

Jensen couldn’t control a grin as he walked into the bank and saw the plaque on his office door. Even after eight months, something about seeing ‘Jensen Ackles, Manager’ still shot a small spark of delight through him.

At twenty-seven, he was the youngest branch manager in Edlund Bank history. Okay, so maybe the Lancaster branch was the smallest and Lancaster itself was just a small suburb of Dallas with a population of less than 40,000 people, but this was a step in the right direction.

Much bigger and brighter things were ahead of him, Jensen had no doubt.

He looked down, making sure his dark blue business suit, white dress shirt, and striped tie all still looked pristine. They did, of course. He was a bit overdressed, especially for a Friday, but Jensen had always been taught to dress for success.

Besides, he was meeting with the other branch managers and the marketing team this afternoon to discuss a new ad campaign about increasing their customer incentive programs. It would be a perfect opportunity for networking and Jensen would be damned if he went in looking anything but his best.

There was also his staff to consider. The younger ones, especially the tellers, seemed to like him just fine, but the others… well, Jensen knew a few of them had applied for his position and weren’t happy with Jensen being chosen over them, thinking him too young and inexperienced.

It made Jensen work twice as hard, take extra care to arrive on time and leave late, to always maintain a cool and professional manner, and perhaps to manage more sternly than he would have liked, but he couldn’t afford to let them see even a moment’s weakness.

His leather loafers clicked on the marble floor as he made his way to his office door, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses up his nose and glancing at the two people sitting in the waiting area for him. First in line was a guy that looked so wildly out of place that Jensen did a double take.

Shaggy brown hair, an eyebrow piercing, a white muscle shirt that could use a washing, a tattoo on his left bicep, worn blue jeans with holes in both knees, and flip-flops.

The man looked like a hooligan.

Next to him was Mrs. Garlington, one of the bank’s more vocal clients, looking down at her watch and muttering, foot tapping on the floor.

Jensen’s gaze traveled back to the man, their eyes locking on each other.

After a long moment, Mrs. Garlington cleared her throat, loudly. “If you’re done staring, some of us have actual business to do this morning,” she said snidely.

“Of course, sorry, ma’am,” Jensen apologized. “I can see you as soon as I’m finished with this gentleman.”

“Nah, it’s alright,” the guy replied, smiling kindly at Mrs. Garlington. Jensen thought he saw a hint of dimples. “The lady can go first.”

Jensen smiled. “In that case, please come in, Mrs. Garlington.” He opened the door, gesturing for her to walk in first and steeled his resolve before shutting the door. He wasn’t looking forward to this.

He was right. Twenty minutes later, Mrs. Garlington was enraged, threatening to complain about him to the bank’s head office when Jensen refused to open another account for her to run into the ground.

“Go right ahead,” he muttered before he could stop himself, she was one of the rudest customers the bank had. “Here is their number and address, if you wish to write a formal letter instead.” Jensen quickly scribbled the information down but his phone rang before he could finish. It was Alona, the receptionist/bookkeeper.

“Hey, boss, just wanted to let you know that Mrs. White is here to see you.”

“Thank you. Please have her take a seat outside,” he said with an internal eyeroll, not surprised at all that she was here again.

He put down the receiver and handed the note over to Mrs. Garlington. “Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

“This is plenty,” she bit out, eyes shooting daggers at Jensen.

“Alright. Have a good day, Mrs. Garlington.” He escorted her to his door.

She huffed out a breath and left without a backwards glance.

"Oh, Mrs. White, you're too funny," the scruffy man was saying. Jensen gaped at the pair of them.

As soon as she saw Jensen, she shot up and grasped his arm. “There you are, dear. You won’t believe-”

“This man was here first,” Jensen said quickly, earning a dismayed look. “I’m sorry but you’ll have to wait your turn.” He gave her his best apologetic smile.

“It’s cool,” the guy was quick to reply. “I don’t mind waiting.”

“Thank you, young man, that’s very kind of you,” she said before grabbing Jensen’s arm tighter, pulling his attention back to her. “I didn’t mean to overdraw, the check went through so fast, and now the charges… you know I can’t afford - please-” She was nearly in tears now.

“You know about our checking policies very well,” he started gently, but was never any good against tears. He sighed. “Yet, given that you have been with Edlund Bank since we opened, I think we can make an exception. I’ll waive the overdraft fee on your account.”

“Oh, thank you! You are a darling, much better than that sour-puss before you… miserable old coot…” she mumbled, winking at the hooligan and Jensen could only shake his head, mouth half tilted up.

The guy was watching him with a small smile and something Jensen couldn’t place in his eyes. Amusement, maybe.

Jensen resisted the urge to duck his head. Instead he gave his most courteous smile, trying to mask the fact that he was dying to know the reason this man was here. “I can see you now.”

The guy nodded. “It’s been a pleasure, Mrs. White,” he said and Jensen didn’t find his Texas twang at all endearing.

“Oh you, such a sweet boy. Call me Betty.”

The man smiled, big and full, and it damn near lit up the whole room. Dimples large enough for Jensen to stick a finger in.

Not that he wanted to or anything.

The guy stood up, waving good-bye and turning his attention to Jensen, coming closer and damn near towering over Jensen - no small feat as Jensen was over six feet tall himself. He couldn’t help noticing the guy’s board shoulders and slim hips, tight ass as he walked through Jensen’s door.

Jensen reminded himself that ogling potential customers - or any customer, really - was a big no-no and went to sit behind his desk.

“I’m Jay,” the guy said, sitting across from Jensen and stretching out his long legs.

“Jensen. But you can call me Mr. Ackles,” he said with a frown, unnerved with Jay’s casualness.

Jay smirked. “It’s going to be like that, is it?”

Jensen narrowed his eyes. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

“I’d like three thousand dollars, please.”

“Wouldn’t we all,” he replied with a snort, not sure what game Jay was playing. “Now tell me the real reason.”

“That is the real reason. Come on, I can’t be the first person to come here asking for a loan.”

“Of course not, but-” Jensen clicked his mouth shut. He usually had more decorum than this, especially while at work. Something about the man was already getting under his skin.

“But most come in their Sunday best?” Jay guessed, looking down at his clothes.

“They don’t come dressed quite like you, no.”

“And if I came in a suit like yours, would I get a loan?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Not necessarily, getting a loan depends on a lot of things.”

“And style of clothing is one of them.”

Jensen bit his lip, silently cursing that the bank was small enough that he had to serve as both manager and loan officer. Apparently Jay had never heard that clothes make the man. “Look, it’s not my decision, it’s the bank’s and we have to fill out a loan application. There is no choice of dress question, so it doesn’t matter.”

He saw Jay open his mouth, clearly another retort, and Jensen blocked it, swiveling in his chair so he faced the computer and started clicking. “Just let me open up the form and we can begin. May I have your full name?”

“Jay Tristan Winchester.”

“Is Jay short for anything?”

Jay shifted in his chair. “Nope.”

“Date of birth?”

Jay gave it, born only six months after Jensen.

Jensen’s phone rang then, the caller ID showing Welling & Associates.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Jay asked at the fourth ring.

Against his better judgment, Jensen picked up. He had told Tom not to call in the mornings when he was likely to be with a customer, but he knew not picking up would only have Tom calling again until he did.

He answered it, making sure it was Tom before saying he would call him back later.

“I just wanted to know if we were still on for seven tonight.”

“Yes, seven. See you then, Tommy,” he agreed before hanging up, not even realizing he had used the nickname. Tom hated it, but every once and awhile it just slipped out.

“Tommy? Pretty informal for a business colleague,” Jay said, studying Jensen for a long moment before one side of his mouth lifted in a grin. “Why, Mr. Ackles, were you talking with your boyfriend?”

Jensen felt his neck flush, hoping that his collar would cover it up. “That is none of your business, Mr. Winchester.”

“You were!” Jay laughed, a glint in his eyes. “Oh man, this is awesome. Okay, so tell me about the kind of man you like.”

“I don’t see how that is any of your concern,” Jensen said, but Jay barreled on as if he hadn’t heard.

“I bet he wears a suit just like you, pocket square and all. On the serious side, probably uptight and too busy climbing the corporate ladder to see what’s right in front of him,” Jay said with a suggestive look at Jensen.

He glared back. “Mr. Welling is a defense lawyer if you must know, and insulting me will not help you get a loan, Mr. Winchester.”

“It’s Jay, and I wasn’t insulting you.”

“You called me serious and uptight.” Jensen had to look away, clenching his jaw in aggravation. “Look, it doesn’t matter. Let’s get back to the loan. Can I get your Social Security Number?”

“I wasn’t insulting you,” Jay repeated softly, causing Jensen to dart his eyes to Jay’s face and all Jensen could think was how pretty Jay’s eyes were.

“Yes, well… Address!” Jensen blurted out. Seriously, what was the matter with him? “I mean, can I get your address, please?”

“I, uh.” Jay rubbed the back of his neck. “I live in a Winnebago.”

“A Winne…” Jensen sighed, rubbing one side of his forehead in a circle. Why was he even surprised? “The bank can’t give you loan with no fixed residency, I’m sorry.”

“But you haven’t filled out the application yet.”

“It doesn’t matter, I already know what the computer will say. You’re too much of a risk.”

“Too much of a risk?” Jay straightened, eyes narrowing. “You haven’t asked anything about my business yet, what I need the money for. I’m a photographer, I need to buy two lenses-”

“Like I already said, Mr. Winchester, the bank will not give a loan to a man with no permanent address. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other people I need to see today.” Jensen stood up, checking his cufflinks and ignoring the part of him that was a little sad at sending Jay away.

“You can’t just…!”

“I can,” Jensen said, opening his door and trying not to notice the hurt on Jay’s face. “I am sorry I couldn’t help you today.”

“Yeah,” Jay mumbled quietly and left Jensen’s office with his shoulders down.

Jensen felt like a heel, but the rules were there for a reason. And banking was a business, not a charity.



At seven o’clock on the dot, Jensen heard a knock on the front door and smiled. One of his favorite traits about Tom was his punctuality; Jensen hated to be kept waiting.

Tom looked smart in a heather-grey blazer and black pants, but the only thing that caught Jensen’s attention tonight was that he was shorter than Jay.

Dinner was perfectly organized. Tom handed the keys to his Lexus GX to the valet, secured a table in the far corner, and their customary drinks (beer for Jensen, fine red wine for Tom) were at their table before they’d decided what they wanted for dinner.

The food was delicious; the steak seasoned and cooked to perfection, tender enough a butter knife could cut through it.

Tom controlled the majority of the conversation, as he usually did, but Jensen had always been a better listener than talker. Besides, he couldn’t imagine anyone really wanting to know about a bank manager’s day - it wasn't nearly as interesting as being a lawyer. So, Jensen simply listened attentively as Tom discussed a couple cases he was working on.

He did remember to remind Tom about Danneel’s upcoming wedding but Tom apologetically said he was going to be out of town for business that weekend and couldn’t get out of it.

“You know,” Jensen said as they were nearly finished with the meal. “I don’t think I tell you enough how much I appreciate you, Tom. Because I do. I really do.”

Tom laughed. “I’m glad for it. I’ll have to remind you of that when I next need a loan.”

Even though Jensen knew Tom was only teasing, his good mood vanished. “Let’s not talk about work anymore tonight, okay?”

That had its desired affect; the humor in Tom’s blues eyes faded, replaced with heat. “You’re right. I’m sitting here with the most gorgeous man in Texas, talking about work. Let’s say we get out of here. Back to my place?”

This wasn’t the first time Tom commented on his looks, and Jensen certainly wanted sex, but… it would have been nice if Tom had asked about Jensen’s day or how his grandmother was doing first.

Jensen shrugged it off. “Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

It had been a trying day, first with Mrs. Garlington and Ja-Mr. Winchester and then later, his afternoon meeting where the VP said they had two big account accepting bids for their Dallas branches, and gave Jensen one of the proposals to write up.

There was nothing more he wanted right now than to fuck Tom into the mattress, or Tom him, anything to make Jensen forget all about a certain hazel-eyed deviant.



Monday morning, coffee cup in one hand and briefcase in the other, Jensen nearly stumbled when he saw Mr. Winchester waiting outside his office again. He looked heavenward, wondering what he had done to deserve this.

He noticed the smirk Alona gave him as he marched past her and began to suspect she might have had something to do with this.

Jay smiled when he saw Jensen, standing up and tucking a portfolio under one arm. “Good morning, Jensen!”

Jensen nodded in greeting, wondering how anyone could be so happy on a Monday morning… or any morning. It was unnatural.

“Please give me a moment to get settled and I’ll be right with you.” He didn’t comment on being addressed by his first name, knowing that insisting he be called Mr. Ackles would be pointless.

“Of course.”

He took his time getting ready but after ten minutes had passed, he knew he couldn’t keep Ja-Mr. Winchester waiting any longer. And besides, if he was here asking about the loan again, it wouldn’t take Jensen long to deny him. Rules were rules.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Winchester?” he asked, opening the door and gesturing for Jay to come in.

“Jay, please. I insist. And I’m here to ask you to reconsider the loan.”

“Mr. Winchester,” Jensen said, as he sat down, watching Jay do the same. “Have you secured an actual residence since last Friday?”

“Well, no, but-”

“The bank’s rules haven’t changed. Now if that is all-”

“No, that isn’t all. I want you to hear me out. Alona told me you don’t have anything until your conference call at ten, which gives me a full hour. And I brought my portfolio to show you.” He held it out.

Not given much of a choice, and silently swearing he would have words with Alona later, Jensen took the binder. He didn’t open it though, setting it on his desk and crossing his arms. “You said you’re a photographer.”

Jay looked a little stunned, whether by the change of topic or Jensen allowing him his say, Jensen didn’t know.

“Yes, uh, yes. I’ve mainly been doing private parties but I want to be a nature photographer. The Dallas Gazette has already used a couple of my pictures but I’m hoping with a better telephoto and wide angle lens, I can get published in National Geographic or Nature’s Best. That’s what I need the loan for. The lenses I want are about fifteen hundred each.”

“So, you want to take pictures of dirt?” Jensen asked, looking at Jay over the rims of his glasses.

Jay shook his head. “No, I want to take pictures of the world. Of what mother nature created. Come on, man, haven’t you ever gone camping?”

“No.” Why would he? Sleeping in tents, surrounded by mosquitoes with no running water or indoor plumbing didn’t sound like some great vacation. It sounded like hell.

“Hiking?” At Jensen’s blank look, he continued, “Fishing? My dad used to take me fishing at least twice every summer. Oh, how about a picnic? Your parents must have taken you on a picnic in the mountains?”

“My dad is a stockbroker, my mom is an economics professor. We vacationed in cities. New York, London, Rome… my parents are quite fond of spending a few weeks during summer vacation in Europe, actually.” So he was a city kid, what was the big deal? Chances were he’d already seen more of the world then Jay ever would.

“So, you’re never seen a forest?” Jay asked, looking at Jensen with pity.

Oh, hell no. He most certainly didn’t need pity, especially from someone like Jay Winchester.

“Of course I’ve seen forests. I may have never stopped for a picnic in one but I’ve driven through plenty. My parents own a beach home in Galveston, we went there every summer, and they took us skiing in Colorado almost every winter. I can assure you I am familiar with nature.” Jensen could still remember the endless hours in the car, driving through big, dark forests that seemed to stretch on forever.

“That’s not what I meant.” Jay bent forward, hands reaching for his portfolio and opening it to the first page. “This is what I meant, have you ever seen anything like this?”

Jensen looked down at the two pictures on the page and gasped. They showed an absolutely stunning nature pool, half underground. The water was a striking jade green, the high ceiling was covered with ferns, rings of moss, and large stalactites. The pool itself was surrounded by large limestones.

The water dripping in from the opening, seeming to fall from the heavens, was more pronounced in the bottom photo. Must be a waterfall, Jensen thought. It could be an alien world if not for the people enjoying a swim in the top picture.

“That’s Hamilton Pool Preserve, right here in Texas,” Jay said, as if he was reading Jensen’s mind. “Not too far from Austin.”

“It’s beautiful, Jay,” he whispered, looking up and was gifted with a smile that lit up his office.

“Go on, look through some more.”

The next couple of pages were pictures that Jensen was more used to seeing: mountains, rivers, waterfalls. Then came flowers, dozens of roses in bloom, rows of sunflowers that looked taller than him, a field of purple-blues and reds.

“That’s Dallas,” Jensen said when he turned the page. He could recognize that skyline anywhere, but it was unlike any image of Dallas he had ever seen before. It was nighttime but the sky was lit up with large rays of lightning, making the buildings look small and insignificant in comparison.

“Sure is,” Jay drawled. “That’s one of my more recent ones, took it a couple weeks back.”

Jensen remembered then, he’d been with Tom enjoying dinner at a downtown restaurant when the storm had started. Jensen had been annoyed with the constant thunder interrupting their meal. Now he wished he had taken the time to look out the window. It must have been one hell of a show.

He reluctantly turned the page. Forests were next. There was one picture in particular his eyes zoned in on. “Where’s that?” he asked, pointing.

Jay pushed his chair closer, peering over the desk so their heads were only inches apart.

“That’s Cibolo Creek, it’s one of my favorite places.”

“Cibolo Creek? That’s by San Antonio, isn’t it?” Jensen asked.

Jay nodded, appearing pleased at Jensen’s question. “Yeah, there’s a nature center about thirty miles from San Antone. I used to go there every chance I could. That’s where I took this picture actually.”

“So, you’re from San Antonio?” he guessed, looking back down at the photograph.

“Born and raised,” Jay said, a hint of proud in his voice that Jensen could appreciate, being a Texas native himself.

The creek in the photo was narrow, the water appearing to move at a leisurely pace as it flowed between several tall trees with countless twisted roots. Jensen couldn’t even begin to guess how old the trees must be. Patches of sun spots filtered through the canopy; touching the land and making the water look orangey-yellow. Moss grew between the trees and looked soft to the touch. The image was as tranquil as it was vibrant and Jensen wanted to see it with his own eyes.

He reluctantly turned the page. There was only one sheet left, consisting of two photos, one vertical and the other horizontal, both of sunsets.

The vertical picture had an oil ring in shadows, the land dark, but over the horizon the endless Texas sky seemed to come alive in radiant shades of yellows and blues that would put any painting to shame.

The sun wasn’t visible in the last photo. Instead there was a large burst of pure white light coming from between the clouds, painting them and everything else: land, lake, and sky in rich shades of purple. It was the color of royalty, Jensen had once been told, and he could certainly see why. Yet, whatever treasures a king might have, it didn’t compare to the sense of awe Jensen felt at the striking image.

“Amazing what mother nature can do, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Jensen replied and looked up, Jay was close enough that Jensen could see the speckles of brown and green in his eyes. “You’re a talented photographer.”

He tried not to be charmed by the slight flush that overcame Jay’s cheeks, reminding himself that Jay was a client. He turned to the computer and opened up the application file again, typing in Jay Tristan Winchester as he talked. “I’ll speak to the Vice President about waiving the residency restriction; I just need to complete the application first.”

“Thank you, Jensen.” Jensen could hear the smile in Jay’s voice.

“How long have you been a photographer?”

“All my life.”

Jensen grinned at that, glancing over to Jay. “I mean how long have you been doing it professionally?”

“Oh, about three months, I guess,” he said with a cheeky smile.

“And what did you do before that?”

Jay looked uneasy. “Why is that necessary? Shouldn’t it be my ability at my present job that will decide how well I’ll use your loan?”

“I’m trying, Jay, but you have to give me something to work with.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, shrugging. “I already told you I’m from San Antonio, born and raised. Worked a couple of old jobs here and there before I decided to pursue photography full time. Then I came out here.”

“So, you don’t have any real references then…” Jensen muttered more to himself than Jay. He turned away from the computer, folding his hands together on his desk. “What about accounts?”

Jay made a sour face. “I show you nature’s glory and you ask for accounts.”

“Every loan I approve or disapprove needs to be justified to the VP, and I can’t represent the ‘glory of nature’ in my report or feed that into a computer,” Jensen explained, taking a deep, calming breath. It didn’t work.

“Reports! Computers!” Jay mimicked bitterly and pointed to the clouds in the last sunset picture. “Look that that sunset? Have you ever seen clouds that color or even that shade of purple anywhere before? Most people haven’t, they go through their lives without truly seeing the world around them. They never look up from the ground their entire lives.”

Jay rubbed a hand across his face, turning his head and staring at the wall, taking in Jensen’s diplomas and awards.

“Did you look up at the sky even once this morning?” Jay asked, returning his gaze to Jensen. Apparently Jensen’s silence was answer enough. “Or, hey, did you know you have a handful of real pretty dandelions growing in the corner of your parking lot?

Jensen shook his head, shocked. Dandelions, how unprofessional. He made an internal note to have them taken care of, nearly missing what Jay said next.

“I’m not surprised, I’m pretty sure the majority of people don’t even know they’re there. But you should take a look when you leave today, they really are beautiful.”

Beautiful or not, he wouldn't have weeds growing in his parking lot. Closing the portfolio, he said, “None of that has anything to do with getting a loan. Let’s get back to that, okay? Do you have someone that’s willing to be a guarantor, or perhaps, a co-borrower?”

“No,” Jay sighed, sprawling back in his chair. “I want to do this on my own.”

“That’s admirable,” Jensen answered, pinning his eyes to Jay and taking a deep breath, “but you’re making this very difficult for me. As I mentioned before, I have to feed all this into a computer and right now the only thing the computer is going to do is die laughing.”

“Computers don’t laugh,” Jay said, forlorn, as if the thought made him sad. “People laugh, and they sing and cry and-”

“That’s all well and good, but I’m afraid I still can’t give you a loan. Now, if that is all…”

Jay shot up in his chair. “No, that’s not all, I’m not-”

“We are finished here,” Jensen said, standing and straightening out his jacket and tie. He had wasted enough of his time on this. He had a long day ahead of him and it was past time he got some real work done.

Jensen opened his door. “Goodbye, Mr. Winchester.”

“You know, I liked you better when you called me Jay.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jensen saw Alona scowl, narrowing her eyes in Jensen’s direction.

Jensen shut his door, looking around his office and noticing for the first time what a drab beige it was. Suddenly, he wished he had a window so the four walls felt less… prisonish.

He closed his eyes, taking a minute to regroup. His office was a place of pride and success, not a prison cell.

So what he if ignored Alona the rest of the day, and so what if he couldn’t help scanning the nearly deserted parking lot on his way out until he found a spot of yellow. It’s not like he actually went to stare at the stupid weeds.



Jensen wasn’t at all surprised to see Jay waiting for him Tuesday morning.

“Mr. Winchester,” he greeted, opening his door.

“Hi, Jensen!” Jay said, dimples and all, as if Jensen hadn’t refused his loan twice before. He took his usual chair and waited for Jensen to come around and sit down before sliding a small notebook across the desk.

“What this?” Jensen asked, taking the notebook.

“It’s my financials. Only a few months’ worth but I have events booked for the next seven weeks.”

Jensen studied the sheets. There were only a couple of pages but the handwriting was neat and precise, and to his surprise the figures were sound and very thorough. It really was a shame there was only three months’ worth.

“You said you had events booked,” Jensen said, looking at Jay shrewdly. “What does that mean, exactly?”

“Mainly birthday parties and corporate shindigs, a couple weddings. They’re all over Texas - that’s partly why I have the Winnebago. I go where the work takes me. And I’m hoping to use the time between bookings to hit up some of the smaller state parks.”

“You want to make a series,” Jensen guessed. “Get that published in a national magazine for the world to see-”

“The lesser known parts of Texas, yeah,” Jay finished. “So, what do you think?”

“Your numbers are promising, but I’m wondering why take out a loan and owe all that interest? Why not give it some time and buy the lenses yourself?”

Jay ducked his head. “Why wait for tomorrow when I can do it today, you know?”

Jensen shrugged one shoulder, handing the notebook back. “Do you have any collateral? Stock, maybe?”

“No stock, just what you saw in my report.”

“What about your motorhome?”

Jared was shaking his head before Jensen finished speaking. “I got it cheap off Craig’s List. It’s old and breaks down every few weeks.”

“So you have car repairs in addition to your other expenses.”

“No, no. I fix it myself. Learned all about cars when I was a teenager from, umm, my uncle.”

And just like that an image popped into Jensen’s mind - Jay in the dirty white wife-beater he wore last week, bending over the hood of a car, body glistening with sweat and oil stains on his hands. Jensen gulped, trying not to think about how a man knowing his way around both a car and an account book hit buttons he didn’t know he had.

It seemed like Jay was just full of surprises today, and for one fleeting moment, Jensen was actually looking forward to tomorrow morning and what Jay would do - because today’s answer was still the same.

“I’m afraid I still can’t approve your loan, Mr. Winchester. No address, no references, no guarantor, and no collateral.”

“I think we know each other well enough by now for you to call me Jay, don’t you think?”

Jensen wanted to smile but held a straight face. It was just like Jay to completely miss his point. “Today’s answer is no, Jay. That hasn’t-why are you smiling?”

“You said ‘today’s answer,’” Jay said, a mischievous grin taking over his face. “So maybe tomorrow’s answer will be different?”

Jensen pushed up his glasses, feeling one side of his mouth tugging up ever so slightly. “Well that depends on you, now doesn’t it?”



There absolutely wasn’t a spring in Jensen’s step on Wednesday morning when he walked in and saw Jay waiting.

“Here you go,” Jay said, fishing something out of his wallet after they had entered Jensen’s office.

“What’s this?” he asked as Jay handed him a folded cashier’s check.

“It’s a check.”

“Yes, I know but…” Jensen unfolded the note, eyes shooting up after looking at it. “Three hundred dollars?”

“From the two bookings I had this past week. I figure ten percent of the loan should cover collateral, right?”

“It could. Do you usually average about two events a week?”

“Yeah, about,” Jay said, nodding.

“And how much of this do you need for supplies? To develop the film?”

Jay sighed. “I already took materials out. That’s all profit.”

Jensen eyes widened. Three hundred a week, that’s all Jay lived off of? “I can’t accept this,” he said, offering back the check but Jay wouldn’t take it.

“What? Why?”

“This is your livelihood-”

“I live in a car, Jensen, I don’t exactly need much money. No rent or utilities.”

“But you must have a cell phone or internet access?”

“Nope. Usually stop at a Starbucks or something if I need internet and no cell either.”

“No cell phone?” Jensen was bewildered. How was that even possible? “What if someone needs to reach you?”

“I have a message service that I check regularly, it works just fine.”

“Then gas and water or… or food! I mean, look at you, you’re the size of an elephant!”

Jay guffawed, his eyes lightening up. “Noticed my size, did you?”

Jensen frowned. “A half-blind bat would notice your size. Now, please, take back the check. I can’t accept it.”

“Then give me the loan.”

“I can’t do that either, Mr. Winchester.”

Jay stared at Jensen for a long time, with each passing second his eyes dimmed until he reluctantly took the check from Jensen’s outstretched hand, shoulders slumping.

It was like stealing from a kid, and Jensen had no idea how Jay could make him feel so enraged one second and then contrite the next.

He’d never been one to touch a customer outside of a handshake, but he couldn’t help lightly touching Jay’s arm. “Look, this is a pretty small bank, but we're still a bank. You'd probably have better luck at one of the local credit unions. Why don't you try them?"

If anything that made Jay’s shoulder droop even more and he nodded slightly, leaving Jensen’s office with his head down and tail between his legs.

He sagged down into his chair, running a hand throw his hair, wishing there was something he could do.

A minute later, there was a knock on his door.

“You know, boss,” Alona said, arms crossed, “I’m getting tired of watching Jay leaving here looking like someone kicked his puppy.”

“I’m not doing it on purpose. I can’t give him a loan, rules are rules.”

“And sometimes rules are meant to be broken. Come on, Jensen, live a little.”

“I’m not going against bank policy. I could lose my job,” he reminded her.

Alona leaned against his door frame. “They aren’t going to fire you over three thousand dollars, and I’m sure Jay is good for it.” Jensen opened his mouth to reply but she beat him to it, “And by now, I think you know it too. He’s a good person, Jensen, he’s-”

“A hooligan,” he growled, voice gruff and mouth turned down.

She barked out a laugh. “Hooligan? Oh my god, who even uses that word anymore?”

“He has no job or address, dresses ridiculously-”

“What’s wrong with the way he dresses? I think it makes him look hot.”

Alona thought Jay was hot? Jensen furrowed his brows, not liking how upset that made him feel. “He’s wearing cut-off jeans, flip-flops, and a t-shirt with pink flamingos, how is that hot?”

“What’s wrong with the flamingos? It’s cute and matches your pink tie,” she said, completely side-stepping Jensen’s question.

Jensen unconsciously brought a hand to his collar, tugging at his tie. “It’s magenta.”

“Magenta… how do you even know…?” Alona uncrossed her arms, shaking her head fondly at Jensen.

“Maybe-” he stopped, looking down for a moment, making up his mind before starting again. “Maybe you shouldn’t book anymore appointments for Jay-”

“Oh, heck no. I meant what I said the other day, he’s good for you. He’s like… the yin to your yang, the Mulder to your Scully, the peanut butter to your jelly, the-”

“I don’t like PB and J sandwiches.”

“That’s beside the point,” she said, frowning. “He’s good for you. He makes you happy.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“He does,” she insisted, “and as long as he calls, I’m going to keep making him appointments.” She turned around, one foot out his door before Jensen caught up to what she had said earlier.

“Hey, what a minute, why I am Scully?”

“Because you know words like ‘magenta,’” she threw over her shoulder, laughing all the way back to her desk.



Thursday morning and no Jay. Not that it bothered Jensen or anything.

He had four customers to see, a meeting with the account managers, and several reports to run. It was a busy day, plenty to keep him busy.

He lost track of the number of times he stopped himself from asking Alona if Jay had called. He never did, because that would be admitting that he wanted to see Jay, and he didn’t.

It was fine. Jay probably just took his advice from yesterday and went to a credit union. Who would want to come back after being refused four times already? Jensen sure as hell wouldn’t.

Yup, it was fine. Better than fine, actually, because now Jensen’s life could return back to normal. He’d been spending too much time thinking about Jay anyway, especially late at night, when his resolve was at its weakest.

Jensen shifted in his desk chair, decided it was close enough to noon and stood up, going to heat up some leftovers he had from lunch yesterday.

Thursday afternoons were generally quiet, so Jensen had taken to going to the Subway or Chipotle a couple blocks away. He ate in his office today, not wanting to-well, just because. Because he had to work on the proposal for the big potential client. That's why.

A couple hours later, he was leaving the kitchen after refilling his water bottle when he stopped mid-step. Jay was leaning over the tall counter in front of Alona’s desk, laughing. He said something that made her giggle, the two of them looking thick as thieves and maybe… flirting?

Jensen frowned, biting his lip. Jay looked almost respectable today, khaki pants and toes covered in converse shoes. His shirt was still god-awful though, some floral print button-down monstrosity.

There was no way of getting to his office without walking past and… oh, just screw it. It was after three o’clock and all damn day he had been waiting for Jay. Only now Jay was here and Jensen wasn’t happy or relieved, instead he was half seething at Jay because clearly he was in no rush to see Jensen and half annoyed at himself because how ridiculous was he being?

If Jay wanted to flirt with Alona, he could damn well flirt.

It was fine. Everything was fine. Hell, maybe the reason Jay kept coming back when he had no chance of getting a loan was to see Alona.

Jensen’s eyes widened. That was… that was actually pretty slick.

He had to give Jay props, even if it made his heart turn over. Which made no sense either. Jensen already had a boyfriend, a great one. He needed to stop letting Jay affect him so much.

Nothing more to do but walk past, holding his head high and hoping they wouldn’t notice him.

Jensen should have known it wouldn’t work. He’d only taken a few steps before Alona looked his way and stopped talking mid-sentence. Jay quickly looked over, saw Jensen and beamed.

Jensen tried not to feel smug at the smile directed at him and not Alona.

“Hey, Jensen! Just the man I was waiting to see.”

“I don’t see customers in the afternoon,” Jensen said automatically, kicking himself at how fast Jay’s grin vanished. That wasn’t what he wanted to say, Jensen wasn’t even sure why he had said it. “I mean, I usually see customers in the morning, but I don’t have any other meetings the rest of the day and could see you now, if you like.”

Jay's grin came back, even bigger than before. He followed Jensen to his office, and Jensen shuffled the papers spread out all over his desk into the manila folder and set it aside to look at Jay. Jay was frowning at him, staring down at the neatly labeled folder, and Jensen grabbed it and stuck it in the first drawer of his desk.

"How can I help you today?" Jensen asked, to get the ball rolling.

Jay jumped out of his seat and started to pace the tiny office, explaining that he'd spent the morning getting a job with the funfair, running the photo kiosk and the Wild West photo booth.

“I mean, it’s only temporary, just as long as they’re here in Dallas - about a week - their usual guy had to leave, family emergency or something, but should be back soon. I’m just filling in. Still, it’s a job and I should have more than enough for collateral to get my loan. So, what do you think?” Jay finished in a rush, smiling again, bouncing back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels, eager as you please.

And damn if Jensen was helpless to do anything else but grin back, stamping down the voice in his head that said if Jay got a loan, Jensen would never see him again, and not liking that idea one bit. “That’s great, Jay, I really hope we can help you.”

Jay stilled. “Hope? That won’t be enough? You told me collateral-”

“Would help. There’s a lot more you need to qualify, and I would still need to ask about the residency restriction,” he said, watching as Jay deflated until he couldn’t any longer, eyes glancing down as he pulled a pen out of his holder and started to twirl it.

“You could save the money, I meant what I said yesterday about not taking your livelihood and that money could come in handy, gas and food prices are always going up and-”

“Jesus Christ, Jensen, it’s like pulling teeth with you.” Jay looked exasperated, hands fisting. “Don’t you ever stop being so practical?”

“Stop being…” Jensen sputtered, feeling his hackles rise. “There is nothing wrong with being practical! And besides, I’m a bank manager, it's kind of part of the job description. Didn’t I tell you before that insulting me isn’t going to help?”

“I’m not insulting you. I wouldn’t-” Jay huffed out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “God damn it, you drive me crazy.”

The feeling couldn’t be more mutual, Jensen thought. “Then why do you keep coming back?”

“Because this,” Jay gestured all around Jensen’s office, “isn’t you. There’s more to you then just some stuffy suit, I saw it the first day. And this place, it’ll eat you alive. It’s nothing but four walls and a functional desk.”

Jensen narrowed his eyes, enraged that this goon would mock an office he had worked so hard to get. “It is efficient, it helps me get my job done.”

“And is that all there is to you, your life? Just your job?”

Jensen know he should end this argument right now, before it escalated, but there was something about Jay - a pull that drew Jensen in as sure as gravity, no matter how much he struggled against it. “My life isn’t any of your business, Mr. Winchester.”

“And I see we’re back to last names. Awesome.”

Jensen could read the irritation in Jay’s eyes clearly but wasn't going to back down. “If you must know, my life is built around strong values and following the rules. Things you seem to know nothing about.”

Jay let out a laugh that wasn’t a laugh at all. “You couldn’t be more wrong, I know all about them, but they’re not the only things that matter. There’s a whole world out there, if you would just stop caring about money so much.”

Jensen saw red. “Need I remind you, it was money that brought you here. That keeps you coming back.”

“You just don’t get it,” Jay said, shaking his head and then setting his shoulders, as if he had come to a decision. “My shift ends at six tomorrow. You should come by - let me show you there’s more to life than just work.”

Jensen furrowed his eyebrows. “Why in the world would I go to a fair?”

“Because fairs are fun. They’re-”

“For children whose parents refuse to spend the money for an actual amusement park ticket.”

Jay came closer, leaning his hips against the desk. “When was the last time you went to a fair?”

Jensen blinked. He thought back. “I… why do you- I don’t think I’ve ever been.”

“Then all the more reason to go. All kinds of people go to a fair, young and old and everyone in-between. There’s a reason why fairs are only in town for a couple weeks, there’s something… magical about them.”

Jensen leaned back in his chair, staring at Jay and raising an eyebrow. “Magical? Are you for real?”

“Not the hocus pocus stuff, Harry Potter stuff,” Jay said, sitting on Jensen’s desk. “I’m talking about the everyday wonders of life: snowflakes falling from the heavens, the first cry of a newborn baby, watching the sky burst into color during a sunrise. The magic of a first kiss.”

Jay leaned closer, one giant paw reaching for the arm of Jensen’s chair, wheeling him in, eyes piercing Jensen’s. “Doesn’t your boyfriend show you any magic, Jensen?”

“I-no.” He swallowed.

“Then let me show it to you.” Jay’s hazel eyes were a stormy blue now, almost pleading with Jensen. “Let me show you the world like you’ve never seen it before. Come to the fair tomorrow night.”

“I-” he choked out. Shit, what was the matter with him? He’s tongue felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, throat parched as if he hadn’t just finished his afternoon cup of coffee. “I work late.”

“I’ll wait.”

“I have a wedding I’m going to this weekend.”

“Are you leaving tomorrow night?”

“… no.” It wasn’t until Sunday.

“Then come.”

Jensen shook his head, needed to do something to try and clear his mind from the spell that Jay had seemingly put him under. He took a deep breath, a mistake he realized after the fact, as now Jay’s scent was permeating his consciousness - a combination of something woodsy and something sweet, like candy.

He rolled his chair away, focusing on his computer screen. “I need to get back to work.”

Jay nodded, standing up. “All right. Have a good day, Jensen.”

“You too, Mr. Winchester.” He didn’t look up from the monitor, side-glancing at Jay’s retreating figure.

“I meant what I said about waiting,” Jay said, stopping just inside Jensen’s door. “Just come tomorrow night,” he said, voice so quiet that Jensen almost didn’t hear him. He left, the sound of his footfalls growing fainter and fainter.



All week, Jensen had been avoiding thinking about how he was parking further away from the banks’ entrance and more towards the corner end. He told himself the extra walking was healthy but by Friday, he could no longer pretend not to see the spots of yellow only two car spaces away.
Jensen bit his lip, fidgeting for a long minute. He glanced at the bank but turned away, walking over to the flowers.

Jay hadn’t lied; four bright yellow dandelions were in full blossom, several blades of grass growing around the stems. They looked so out of place growing in the cracked dark gray asphalt.

The bank was a newer building - bright red brick and a stoned archway over the glass door - only eight years old, but the parking lot was a different story. When Jensen had first gotten the promotion to branch manager, he had asked the VP to have the lot repaved but there was no money for it. Edlund Bank was still just a fledgling in the banking world, twelve years old and only three branches.

He’s glad now that the parking lot wasn’t repaved, and that he never made the call to have the flowers removed, the dandelions stirring something inside of him. He had no idea how they were even growing here, where their nutrients were coming from, why they hadn’t died off from baking in the Texas heat with no shade. Yet, here they were anyway, alive and thriving.

Jensen smiled, lifting his head and feeling the sun on his face. It wasn’t all that hot this morning; a slight breeze ruffled through his hair and tickled his nose. There was barely a cloud in the sky; all he could see was an endless expanse of pale blue.

He stood there for a minute or two and when he came back to himself, looking back toward the earth, he realized how refreshed he felt. Ready to take on the day - kind of like after his first cup of morning coffee only calm instead of buzzed.

Jay wasn’t in the waiting area but that was okay. He would come, Jensen was sure of it. There were four other clients waiting though, so Jensen got to work.

It was two hours later, Jensen alone in his office, just finishing up a call with the credit clerk, when he looked up at the shadow at his door and held up one finger, signaling Alona that he would be done in a moment.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, when he put down the receiver, wondering if she had news on Jay.

Alona looked around the hallway before stepping inside. "The whole bank is buzzing this morning, you’ve been practically beaming since you came in."

"What’s wrong with that?"

"Nothing," she said, grinning impishly. "But compared to the ogre you were yesterday, it’s like night and day." She closed his door and took a seat across from him. "Everyone is curious. Did you and Jay finally hook up last night?"

"What? No!" he shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "Of course not-why would…? Where would you get that idea?"

"You two have been eyeing each other like two tomcats." She smirked, leaning closer as if she had some juicy secret to share. "There’s a bet going."

"On me and Jay?" He caught himself almost immediately. "I mean, Mr. Winchester?"

Alona nodded. "Cliff’s been a smartass for hours, gloating how we’re all out twenty bucks but I just know you’re too classy to put out on the first date, boss. You didn’t, did you?"

"What in the world are you talking about?"

She tilted her head a little, glancing at Jensen as if he was slow. "Your date last night. Jay told me yesterday he wanted you to go to the fair with him. And when he never called to make an appointment today and you looking so chipper…"

"Wait, Jay never called? He’s not coming today?" Jensen ignored the wave of disappointment. It made sense, Jay was probably working. He only took the job for the money, it stood to reason he’d be back sometime the next week when he had the extra cash.

"No," Alona answered, her good humor starting to falter. "You didn’t go out with Jay last night?"

He shook his head. "He invited me to go tonight but…"

"Jensen?"

"I don’t-" he stopped, this was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous. "I have a boyfriend, I’m not dating Jay. This whole office is a bunch of nosy gossips."

"Jen-"

"Enough," he growled, raising a hand in a stop signal. This type of discussion was so far from appropriate office chatter and he wouldn’t have it in his bank. "I want you to go back out there and remind Cliff he’s here to provide security, not idle prattle, and tell everyone else this bet stops now - actually, no, I’ll do it. Schedule a full staff meeting today at closing."

Alona gaped. "But it’s Friday, everyone’s already put in a long week and it’s only a harmless bet, not-"

"Do it now, Alona," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Then get back to work. You’re the worst offender and I have half a mind to report this in your employee file."

When she didn’t immediately reply or move, Jensen mentally prepared himself for battle, but it never happened.

"Fine," she said with a cold look in her eyes. "Staff meeting today at six. Got it, boss."

PART TWO