Memoirs of a Texan Abroad (9/14)

[texankate]

Title:  How Jensen Ackles Hated Mr. Right, Shagged Mr. Wrong, and Finally Got a Clue
Author:  texankate 
Pairings/Characters:  J-squared, Jensen/ Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Jared/Sandy, Chris/Steve, Usual Suspects  OFCs, OMCs.  S1 'The Tudors', S1 'Primeval'.
Rating:  Up to NC17 in places

Disclaimer: If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumber'd here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream,. In other words: complete and utter fiction. I own nothing but my twisted and sordid little brain. I even had to borrow my disclaimer.

Summary:  When Jensen left everything behind for his big shot overseas assignment, he only wanted a life of adventure.  Will he choose passion with a sexy foreigner?  Or will he realize that true love was in his back yard the whole time?

Chapter 9
The week passed by in a haze. Jared left messages and Jensen deleted them. He wasn't getting the hint. Jensen finally wrote a long, bitter email in which he told Jared that he don't know what possessed him to give Jared a second chance, and that he would happily live his life without seeing, hearing, or even thinking of him ever again. He stopped sending emails after that.

Johnny, however, was persistence itself. He brought cups of tea, and smiled whenever they passed in the halls. Douglas noticed, but he didn't say anything, though it must have pained him to remain quiet.

That Friday, Johnny asked Jensen to go to dinner with him. Ready to not think about Jared, Jensen agreed. Johnny took him to a Thai place in Horley, where they ordered a couple of different dishes to share.

"Have you thought about what I said the other day?" he asked, as the waiter brought out their dishes. Jensen waited until he'd dished out a generous helping of Pad Thai before he answered.

"Yes. A little," he said. Okay, maybe a lot.

"And what do you think?"

"I think that if, and I do mean if, we decide to try this again, there have got to be more ground rules. I'm generally not a rules person, but desperate times, desperate measures," Jensen said.

"Such as?" Johnny asked, obviously bolstered by the fact that Jensen hadn't actually said 'no' just yet.

"First of all, we take things a hell of a lot slower," Jensen said. "We kind of fell into this, and I think that's where the problem started: too much sex and not enough communication. I'm not saying that I want to spend every minute discussing my feelings. I may be gay, but I'm not actually a girl. But I'd like to at least think that you're not about to pass out from boredom if the conversation strays that way."

"That's reasonable," Johnny said. He reached across the table and took Jensen's hand in his. He traced circular patterns on the palm. Jensen resisted the urge to shiver.

"And I understand that we have different interests. I can respect the idea that you don't want to visit castles and churches, but can you respect the idea that I do?" he asked.

"I don't understand it," Johnny said, honestly. "And I do think you're short-changing yourself. But I'll try to be supportive. Like I said, I love that you're curious, and that you want to learn everything about the world around you. I just want you to trust that I have things to teach you, too. Things that you won't find in a guidebook."

"I know," Jensen said.

They ate dinner, keeping the talk to a minimum-things were a little too fresh to risk idle chatter. After dinner, Johnny invited him to go for a drink, but Jensen thought it better to go home. Take it slow meant just that. Johnny was disappointed, but good natured about it.

They went on for the next couple of weeks. A drink here, a dinner there. Johnny was attentive and charming, and Jensen started to relax in the relationship. He only thought about Jared every other day, or when the bag from Kew caught his eye. He finally buried it in the back of the wardrobe, where he wouldn't accidentally see it.

On a Tuesday in late August, Johnny joined Ally and Jensen at lunch. Things were still a little tense; Ally made no effort to hide the fact that she didn't trust Johnny. For his part, he regarded her as a bad influence on Jensen. It was a wacky world where a girl who talked Jensen into going to a museum was considered a bad influence.

"My parents are coming to visit," Johnny announced.

"Cool! When will they be here?" Jensen asked.

"They fly in tomorrow," he said.

"That's a little short notice, isn't it?" Ally asked.

"They called me before they got on the plane, at least," Johnny said. "They're pretty spontaneous. They show up when they show up."

"How long are they staying?" Jensen asked.

"They'll be here until they get tired," he shrugged. "Anyway, what I wanted to say is that they wanted to go up to Scotland this weekend and do the whiskey tour and they want me to ask you if you'd like to join us?"

"What's a whiskey tour?" Jensen asked.

"It's where you visit all of the distilleries, and sample the different whiskeys. It's a blast. Kris, Henry, Callum and I did it a couple of summers ago. We were absolutely smashed for three days," he said, grinning.

"It sounds like fun," Jensen said, hesitantly. He had more to say, but with Ally sitting there, he wasn't likely to. She must have understood, because she stood up and grabbed her tray.

"I have to prepare for a client meeting," she said. "I'll leave you to it." Jensen smiled gratefully.

"I know it sounds like I'm rushing things," Johnny said. "But I promise, no pressure. We can get separate rooms, if you like. Of course, if you're rather share a room, I'm up for that, too." He grinned wickedly. They hadn't gotten back to that part of their relationship yet. Jensen had let good sex mask problems between them the last time, and he wasn't about to do it again.

"Okay, it sounds like fun," he said. "As for separate rooms, why don't we see how things go?"

"Works for me," Johnny said.

Jensen emailed Ally after lunch. She didn't actually warn him, but he could tell from her tone that she didn't think it was a good idea. She asked if he realized that they were supposed to go into London for a happy hour with the Aggies that weekend. He had forgotten, but it didn't sway him away from the trip. He had been silently dreading the possibility of running into Jared. He told her that he was sorry to miss it, but Johnny's parents didn't fly in every day. He felt he should at least make an effort.

Patrick and Geraldine were friendly and boisterous. They went out to dinner the day before their trip to Scotland, so Jensen could meet them.

"Johnny has told us so much about you," his father said. He was obviously the source of Johnny's coloring, as well as the smile.

"He rarely talks about his special friends, so we knew you had to be extra-special," Geraldine said, patting Jensen's hand. Johnny blushed, adorably.

"I hope he's been saying good things," Jensen said.

"Oh yes," Patrick said. "It's half the reason we came for a visit."

"I'm honored," Jensen said. "And a little nervous."

"Don't be," Geraldine said. "We just wanted to make sure he was good enough for you."

"I like that," Johnny said, feigning hurt. "See if I'm good enough for you. To hear it, you'd think you were their child, not me."

"I may be your mother, but you're a man, darling. I know how you fellows are," Geraldine chuckled. "Tricky and slippery."

They dropped Johnny's parents off at his place after dinner, and then he took Jensen home. He walked him to his front door, clearly hoping to be asked inside.

"I think they like you," he said, leaning close to Jensen.

"They're lovely," Jensen said. He leaned in and kissed Johnny on the cheek. "Now get home. We have an early day tomorrow." He rolled his eyes, and dropped a kiss on Jensen's forehead. Jensen closed the door, and went to bed.

The flight up to Aberdeen was uneventful, and relatively short. Patrick rented a car, and they took the A96 up through Huntly to Keith, where they found their first distillery, Strathisla. It claimed to be the oldest distillery in Scotland, and its claim was certainly aided by the scenery. They paid their admittance, and took the tour. An older man explained the whiskey making process, while they looked around the large tanks and the racks of oak barrels.

"When do we get to the tasting?" Geraldine asked, as their guide explained the importance of aging. "I can never abide lectures." Jensen could see where Johnny got his impatience with tourism. Soon enough, they were in the tasting room, where Jensen's companions all accepted glasses of the dark amber colored liquid. Patrick took a small sip, and sighed.

"I guess the driver ought to control himself," he said, resignedly.

"I tell you what, why don't I volunteer to be the designated driver?" Jensen asked. He wasn't overly excited by whiskey, and he didn't mind just collecting the miniature bottles that they gave out to the drivers.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Johnny asked.

"As long as you're willing to risk my driving," Jensen said, chuckling. "Remember, I've only done this 'other side of the road' thing once before."

"Aren't you just a darling," Geraldine said, throwing an arm around Jensen's shoulders and squeezing.

"It's a little fruity," Johnny said, finishing his glass. "I've never had anything quite like it."

"It's fairly rare to find it as a single malt," the guide explained. "Normally, it's used in blends. In fact, it is the central malt used in the Chivas Regal blend." He gave them vouchers towards buying a bottle in the shop, and they each bought one. If things kept going like this, Jensen thought, his father was going to have a very merry Christmas.

They stopped for lunch, which he hoped would tone down the merriment in the back seat. Johnny's parents were a little tipsy, and they needed to get something on their stomachs besides single malt. They forwent the pints with lunch, saying they didn't them to interfere with the whiskey.

After lunch, they visited the Glenfiddich distillery. It was famous enough that even Jensen had heard of it. This facility was much slicker and full of tourists, much to Johnny's disgust. But the tour was really interesting, and they actually got to see the whiskey being bottled; most distilleries didn't bottle the whiskey on the premises. After the tasting, Jensen tucked his miniature bottle away in his backpack, and bought two bottles in the shop-one for his father, and another for himself, as a souvenir.

They made for one more distillery that evening, but it was closed by the time they got there. They made for the nearest town, Ballindalloch, and found a B&B, grabbing rooms before they went out for dinner at a local pub. The others got royally tanked, but Jensen limited himself to a pint of cider with his meal, choosing to switch to soda afterwards. He had to drive the next day, and he hated driving while hung over.

The next morning, they woke up earlier than Jensen had expected.  They drove down and took the tour at the Glenlivet distillery, and then managed Cardhu and Macallan. The Macallan tour was smaller, and it normally required reservations, but they were lucky to arrive at a slow time. Jensen now had half a dozen full sized bottles of whiskey, and almost as many miniatures. He hoped James and Douglas liked something stronger than beer.

They stopped that night in Craigellaiche. Jensen was interested in visiting the Speyside Cooperage, where they made the barrels. He asked Johnny if he would be interested in visiting it, but his parents overheard, and put a stop to that talk.

"But it's a museum," Geraldine said, with a little bit of a whine in her voice. Johnny nodded his agreement. Patrick tried to take Jensen's side.

"It could be interesting," he said. "And Jensen has been a good sport, doing the driving and such."

"It's alright, sir," Jensen said. So much for Johnny respecting our differences, he thought, bitterly. They ended up visiting one more local distillery, and by then it was time to head back into Aberdeen, for the flight home. Jensen was quiet, and Johnny noticed. He rolled his eyes, as if he knew the train of thought Jensen was following.

"I'm sorry we didn't go to the damn museum," he said, not sounding sorry at all.

"I'm not angry that I didn't get to see barrels, Johnny. I'm a little miffed that after all of your talk about trying to be more supportive, you backed out on me. Your dad was at least understanding about it," Jensen said.

"My parents don't get up here that often," he hissed. "I don't want to drag them off to do things they won't like."

"And I'm only here for a couple more months," Jensen said, trying to keep his voice down. "Ever think of that? Then I'm back to Texas, and I don’t know when I'll get the chance to do this kind of thing again."

"Then stay here. Why would you want to go back to America, anyway?" he said. "It's full of people who don't bother to learn anything about the world outside of their own borders. I can't see you being happy there."

"It's home," Jensen said. "No matter what else, it's home."

"Home is overrated," Johnny said. "I mean, you have your family, yes, but you don't really need to live near them to be close. I mean, my parents live in another country, but we're still close."

"Really? I get the distinct impression you didn't tell them we broke up in Paris," Jensen said. "You'd think, after telling them about me, that you'd have mentioned that."

"Well, I didn't really mention you until after we'd broken up," he said, looking uncomfortable. "Mom got on one of her kicks, and I thought it would make her happy that I'd met someone I could see raising kids with. I didn't tell them you weren't speaking to me at that precise moment."

"Is that why you started making nice?" Jensen asked. He stood up, and walked back to where Patrick and Geraldine were sitting. Johnny lunged after me.

"When did you two tell Johnny you were coming for a visit?" Jensen asked.

"A month or so ago," Geraldine said. "Why?"

"It's a remarkable coincidence," Jensen said, rounding on Johnny. "We don't speak at all after Paris, and then suddenly out of the blue, you want to make things right. You just wanted me to trot out in front of your parents. You miserable bastard."

"Now wait one minute, you little prick," his mother said, standing up.

"Excuse me, ma'am. Sirs. You need to return to your seats," the air host said, looking decidedly nervous. They went back to their seats, and Jensen squeezed himself into the corner, as far away from Johnny as possible.

The plane landed on schedule, and they scrambled to get off. Jensen grabbed his overnight bag and his whiskey bottles from the overhead compartment, while Johnny went to check on his parents. Jensen hurried off the plane before he came back. Since they didn't have to go through customs, he nearly ran out to the arrivals area, and then to the tram back to the South terminal.

He thought about buying a train ticket, but grabbed a cab, instead. The sooner he was far away from Johnny, the better. The entire way home, he berated himself for giving Johnny a second chance. He felt a little bad about dumping him in front of his parents, but really, his mother was no better. Jensen almost wished Johnny's father thought better of him, but if he couldn't see that his wife and his son were being unreasonable, he deserved them.

Back home, Jensen dropped his case, his backpack, and the whiskey in the hallway, too exhausted to carry them to the back of the flat. He noticed that there were several messages on his machine, but he didn't really feel like listening to anyone else at the moment. He showered and changed, and curled up in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Happily, he felt no regret, or sadness. The fact that all he felt was anger lifted his spirits immeasurably.

He made a sandwich for dinner, and finally listened to his messages. The first was from his mother, reminding him to call his father on his birthday. The next was from Natalie, asking if he'd like to go to a movie Saturday night. The third one was the one that made Jensen pause.

"Hey, it's Ally. You missed a great time with the Aggies. Then again, you might not have enjoyed it. Jared was there. Once he figured out who I was, he asked after you, wanted to make sure you were okay. I told him you were away with Johnny; I hope that's okay. He wants to talk to you, Jensen. To explain what went on. I think he's on the level, sweetie. You should talk to him. Anyway, he flies out on Monday, and he asked me to ask you to meet him for coffee at nine o'clock Monday morning. I really think you should go. I'll talk to you soon. Hope you had a good time in Scotland."

Jared. Jesus, he couldn't deal with him at the moment. Although a spiteful part of him wanted to see Jared's face when Jensen told him he was back together with Johnny. Except, he wasn't. Not anymore. It didn't matter. He wasn't going to see Jared anyway. Not at all. Nope.

And that remained his position until nine o'clock the next morning, when Jensen found himself on the 'up' escalator in the South Terminal, on his way up to Starbucks. Jared was already sitting at a table in the corner. He had already bought Jensen coffee and a muffin. Jensen warily sat down opposite him.

"Hey," he said, playing with the cardboard sleeve on his coffee.

"Hello, Jensen," Jared said. Neither of them said anything more for several moments.

"How was, Scotland," Jared asked, finally breaking the silence.

"It was lovely," Jensen said. "We toured the whiskey distilleries up near Aberdeen."

"Sounds nice," Jared said. Silence again.

Jensen sighed in irritation. "What did you want to say?" he asked.

"You got the wrong idea, when you saw me," Jared said.

"You mean when I saw you and your 'friend'?" Jensen snorted.

"She's not my girlfriend, not anymore," Jared said.

"Anymore? When did you break up, last week?" Jensen said, pushing back from the table.

"About six months ago," Jared said.

"Funny, I'm sure I saw you two looking very much together just a few weeks ago," Jensen said.

"We work together," Jared explained. "Our boss sent her along on that trip to help out on part of our project."

"You work together." There was no way Jared could miss the disbelief in Jensen's voice.

"I promise, that's all there is," he said. He reached out for Jensen's hand, but Jensen pulled away.

"We were together for, what, three years? We were going to get married. But I couldn't do it," Jared said. "I called off the wedding."

"Just like that?" Jensen asked.

"No, there were a hundred little things. Even though my mother liked her, and her family were resigned to me, I just couldn't marry her. She was just too…" He searched for words.

"Too what?"

"Too focused."

"Focused? What do you mean, too focused?" Jensen snapped.

"Okay, I'll give you an example," Jared said. "We went to visit her parents for Thanksgiving last year. We went out for a hike, by the shore, like we'd done a dozen times. It was one of those days that painters dream about, you know? The sky was so incredibly blue. The water was beautiful. We sat down on a piece of drift wood just to take it all in, but all she could do was go on about the wedding. How her mother wanted this and that. I tried to get her to just relax and enjoy the moment, but she wouldn't. She just couldn't stop and enjoy it."

"Why are you telling me this?" Jensen asked.

"I realized I couldn't be with someone who couldn't take the time and enjoy life. Someone who was so focused on some perfectly planned out future that she never stopped to enjoy the thousand imperfectly perfect moments on the way," he said.

"Jared, girls obsess over their weddings. That's pretty normal," Jensen said.

"It wasn't just the wedding. She'd already picked out preschools for our kids, what neighborhood we'd live in. That's not what I want," Jared said.

"You, you, you. All about you. So you called it off."

"Yes. She didn't take it well," Jared said. "She kept thinking I'd change my mind."

"But you didn't."

"No, but Sandy wouldn't admit it was over. It's one of the reasons I was so happy to get this project, it has kept me out of the office," he said.

"You didn't look very upset to have her along," Jensen spat. "For God's sake, Jared, she was hanging all over you."

"What was I supposed to do? Tell her off in the middle of the airport?" he hissed. "If it's any comfort, I think she gets the message now. She got it the minute I pushed her away and ran after you."

"What did you tell her about me?" Jensen asked, honestly curious.

"That I'd met a guy that I really liked. That I wanted to spend time with. She didn't like hearing it, but I think it finally sunk in," he said. Earnest. He did that look really well.

"What do I have to do to earn a second chance, Jensen?" he asked. "I know I should have told you about it all up front. It was just so new, I didn't want to risk it. Please. Tell me what I have to do make it up to you?"

"You've already had your second chance, Jared," Jensen said.

"And you're back with Johnny," Jared said, grimacing.

"Not really," Jensen admitted. "He fucked up again. I don't know why I believed he'd changed."

"You were mad at me, maybe?" Jared said. "We do stupid stuff when we're hurt."

"Did you?" Jensen asked. "Try to drown your sorrows in your ex, that is." Jensen knew he had no right to be so mean, but he couldn't help himself.

"No," Jared said. "But as for other stupid stuff? Let's see. I left three dozen messages on your machine. I emailed you four or five times a day for at least two weeks. And then I buttered up one of your best friends to lure you here for coffee, so I could beg you for a second chance. Or, I suppose a third chance."

"I don't think it's a good idea, Jared," Jensen said.

"Please, even if it's just friends," Jared begged.

"Could we ever be just friends?" Jensen asked. "I don't think I could, Jared."

"Jen, please, give me a chance," Jared said. "I promise you, nothing happened. You're the one I want to be with."

Jensen stood, leaving the coffee and the muffin untouched. "Goodbye, Jared."

Things have a way of working themselves out. After a few, tense weeks in the office, Johnny was transferred to Oslo, much to Jensen's relief. He started to get the feeling that Douglas had something to do with it; he and Everett were often seen conspiring at the pub, and Everett had been the one to put the transfer through. Jensen didn't dwell on it too much; Johnny would find warm, willing bodies and lots of beer wherever he went. Jensen was just glad he didn't have to look at Johnny's face across the lunchroom anymore.

Ally talked him into a road trip-a weekend away from all of the drama. She would be heading back home for good soon, and she still hadn't done as much traveling as she wanted. They both put in for a couple of days off, and started planning a trip to Wales.

They left early Thursday morning, from Jensen's flat. Ally had stayed over the night before, and they'd run by Tesco's for road trip snacks. She turned out to be a crack navigator-not only could she read the map, she was absolutely perfect when it came to helping out the driver with sodas and food. As soon as Jensen got thirsty, she unscrewed the top of his soda and passed it to him, allowing him to keep both hands on the wheel.

They made good time, and made it into Wales by lunchtime. They stayed away from Cardiff, being more interested in the ruins and smaller villages. They visited Carleon first, to see the Roman ruins. After a quick tour of the bathhouse, they walked just outside of town to visit the old amphitheater.

"Do you think they had gladiators here?" Jensen asked.

"I doubt they had anybody as hot as Russell Crowe, but maybe," she said.

Jensen pulled out an imaginary sword and pointed it at her. "The general who became a slave," he growled, in his best Maximus imitation.

Ally grabbed her own weapon and saluted. "The slave who became a gladiator," she replied.

"The gladiator that challenged an emperor," they said in unison, and then dissolved into laughter. The other tourists looked at them as if they were lunatics, but they just laughed harder. They walked back into town, for a little shopping. Wales was the source of all the original King Arthur myths, and nearly every little village had some claim to fame. And everywhere there were myths, there were little shops with very cool items for sale. And probably a couple of little New Age shops, as well.

They found one particularly nice little shop that had a wonderful selection of jewelry. Jensen bought his sister a purple fluorite bracelet that wrapped around the wrist like a snake. Ally found several pairs of earrings, and a gift for her sister-in-law. They stopped for lunch at a little restaurant, and had a wonderful time sitting out on a leafy patio. After they'd stuffed themselves on bread and butter pudding, they figured it was time to get back on the road.

The roads in Wales were confusing. It seemed just as they would leave one town, they would see a sign for it, pointing in a totally different direction. After an hour, Jensen was so turned around that he had to stop to get their bearings.

"Well, it might not be as picturesque, but we could always go back into England and go north. Then we could cross back into Wales closer to Snowdonia," Ally said. That was their objective, to visit Mt. Snowdon and the surrounding area, including Carnarfon. In the end, Ally found a route that was both scenic and direct, and they made much better time.

By the time they started looking for someplace to stay, they were on the border again. The sky was an ominous gray, and it looked like the bottom was about to fall out of the sky. It didn't disappoint. They drove through village after village, looking for someplace to stay, but everywhere was fully booked. Finally, they crossed back into Wales, and the sky cleared, miraculously.

"It's a sign," Ally said, grinning. "We were meant to be in Wales, not England."

"As long as there is a place to sleep in Wales, I'm fine," Jensen said. He was doing all of the driving, and it was starting to take its toll-his knee felt like it was on fire.

After several disappointing stops, they found a house with a vacancy sign posted outside. The elderly lady had one room with two twin beds to let, and they eagerly snatched it up.

There wasn't really any place around to eat dinner, so they made do with the snacks they'd brought. Luckily, they'd gotten peanut butter and bread, so they had a meal of peanut butter sandwiches and garlic flavored macadamia nuts, which wasn't nearly as disgusting as one might think. They washed it down with bottled water, and called it a night.

Their hostess was a phenomenal cook, luckily, and she sent them off with full stomachs and good directions. They plotted out her route on the atlas, and realized they could be in Betwys y Coed before lunch. Refreshed, and with a big dose of Aleve, they were on their way.

The scenery was stunning. They were driving through mountains by about nine, and although they weren't the deep green of the Scottish highlands, they were beautiful.

They made it into Betwys y Coed a little before lunch. They decided to look for lodging first, and the hotel spirits were with them. They found a reasonable room at the first place they looked, The Royal Oak Hotel. They took their bags up to the room, and checked out their surroundings first. The room overlooked the river that ran through town-by far the best view Jensen had had in the whole of the UK. After they dumped luggage, they decided to go do some exploring. We got back into the car, and headed for the coast. If we hurried, we could see Carnarfon Castle before it closed.

Hours later, after a lovely trip to Carnarfon followed by a tedious trek around Anglesey to look for a four thousand year old henge, they made it back to the hotel just in time to eat dinner and collapse.

They had breakfast at the hotel the next morning. Apparently, the full Welsh came with black pudding. They both poked at it, and tried to ascertain just what it was.

"I don't know, but it looks disgusting," Ally said.

"I imagine it's a lot like haggis," Jensen said, frowning at the little round slab.

"I don't eat haggis," Ally said. "Like I don't eat boudain."

"And you call yourself adventurous," Jensen said, shaking his head sadly.

"You're the adventurer," she said. "You try it."

He broke off a little morsel, about the size of a tic-tac, and balanced it on the end of his fork. Wincing, he brought it up to his lips. He darted his tongue out and tasted the morsel. Yeuchh!

"I can tell from the expression on your face that this isn't the best thing you've ever tasted," Ally said, stifling a giggle.

"I think I'll stick to the baked beans," Jensen said, shivering with disgust.

That day brought a trip to Snowdon and an afternoon bumming around the town. That night, they went down to the bar and managed to hook up with a group of mountain climbers who were amazed to see two Texans in Wales. Rounds of beer were bought and lots of tall tales were told. Jensen and Ally toddled off to bed relaxed and happy.

Ally had been right. This was exactly what Jensen had needed.

They got an early start the next morning. After breakfast, with no repeat of the black pudding taste test, they got on the road home.  As long as the drive was, they unfortunately couldn't stop and see everything they would have liked. It also put them in the car for hours on end, with their list of conversation topics running low. Next on the dwindling list? Jensen's love life.

"I think I've figured it out," Ally said.

"Really? Care to let me in on the big secret?" Jensen asked. "Because I'm lost."

"Well, Johnny represented adventure to you. Everything you wanted to experience on your trip. The problem is, you really didn't like him," she said.

"Oh, really?"

"Uh huh. You said it yourself, you two didn't talk much. You didn't know much of anything about him, or his family until he had to tell you," she said. "He was the idealized man, but there was no substance."

"Well, I don't know if I agree completely, but it sounds reasonable enough," Jensen said.

"Yep. Now take Jared," she started.

"Can we please not talk about Jared?" he begged.

"Have to," she said. "Let's assume, for argument's sake that Jared was on the level about his ex and is not, in fact, a smarmy bastard. When you think of Jared, he's is just the opposite of Johnny. You think of him like the safe guy. The guy your mom would love. The one who would give you the house in the 'burbs and the minivan. But the thing is, you like Jared. You two talk, and have fun together, even without the sex. That's pretty rare, Jen. But you're afraid that if you fall for Jared, you're dooming yourself to a boring life. But I think you're wrong."

"What makes you so sure," Jensen asked.

"You said he broke if off with his fiancé because she wanted the boring life, and he didn't," she said. "So, you have a guy who wants adventure, who you really like. I don't see the problem."

"How do I know that's really why he broke it off with Sandy? Maybe he's just anti-commitment, like every other guy," Jensen said.

"Not every guy is afraid of commitment," Ally said. "Aaron wasn't. Chris and Steve weren't. Douglas? What about your friends Mike and Tom? They sounded pretty happy."

Jensen didn't have a ready answer. They didn't say much for a while, just questions and answers about navigation. He thought about what she'd said.

"Do you think he'd be willing to wait until I got back to the States to figure this out?" Jensen asked.

"If he's worth it, he will," she said. "Does this mean you're willing to rethink everything?"

"For a guy that kisses like that?" he joked, weakly. "Yeah. I've never been that comfortable around a guy. It would be a shame to give up without a fight."

The rest of the ride was much more comfortable. They pulled into Horley around three o'clock that afternoon. He dropped Ally off at her house, and ran to the market while he had the car. He unloaded everything at home, and then returned the car to the rental place.

The next morning, he sent Jared an email, asking him to let Jensen know when he was getting back into town. Five minutes later, his phone rang.

"What's up?" Jared asked.

"I didn't realize you were in town," Jensen said.

"I'm not. I'm in Houston," Jared said.

Jensen checked his watch. "What are you doing up at this hour?" he asked.

"Couldn't sleep," Jared said. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, not really. I just wanted to ask when you'd be in town again," Jensen said.

"I'll be in on Thursday," Jared said.

"Would you maybe have time to get together for coffee or something?" Jensen asked.

"Of course," Jared said, eagerly. "I didn't think you'd ever want to talk to me again, honestly."

"Well, I would," Jensen said. "Last time we talked, I didn't do much listening, and I think you deserve that, at least."

"Thanks, Jen," Jared said. "Why don't we get together for dinner on Friday?"

"That should be fine," Jensen said. "I have plans on Saturday, though, so I can't stay out late. I might turn into a pumpkin at midnight."

"That's okay. I like pumpkins," Jared said. Jensen could picture the dorky grin on his face.

"Dork. So let's say Friday evening. Where?" Jensen asked.

"Why don’t I come out to you, this time?" he said.

"Cool. I'll meet you at the station in Crawley around seven or so?" Jensen said.

"See you then," he said. "And Jen?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

"See you Friday," Jensen said. "Now get some sleep."

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