Fic: Blue Thunder--Chapter Four
By the time they got back to Jared’s place, Jared was sleepy. He took a couple of aspirins and went to bed, leaving Jensen out on the sofa with the remote control for the television.
Jensen took advantage of the peace and quiet to call Danneel.
“Hey, Jenny-bean,” she said. “I heard about that chopper that went down today. Anyone you know?”
“Yeah. It was me and Jared.”
There was a pause and then Danni exploded. What happened? Was he all right? Was Jared all right?
Jensen explained everything that had happened as succinctly as he could, ending with, “Heyerdahl popping up again, the surveillance capabilities of this chopper, the mood down there on the ground in some of the Black and Latino communities. I dunno Danni…maybe Heyerdahl is just making me paranoid, but I feel like something real fishy is going on.”
“Have you talked to Jim?” Danni asked.
Jensen snorted. “He’s already got me penciled in for another psych eval next week. I don’t think I need to go adding any more fuel to that fire.”
“That psych eval,” Danneel said carefully, “is that because of the thing with Danay? When you wigged out, mid-air?”
“Jesus, Danni,” Jensen rubbed at his temple. “Have you and my ex-partner been talking about me?”
“We talk sometimes. She worries about you, like I do.”
Jensen harrumphed. “Speaking of Danay, we were talking today about meeting up at Griffith Park Train Ride this Saturday; you, me and Timmy and her, Ernesto and their kids. You interested?”
“Sounds great. Want me to give her a call? Set it up?”
“Yeah. Oh. I’d better give you the number here. I’m staying at Jared’s.”
Jared’s phone number was carefully written on a piece of paper tucked under the plastic in the center of the phone’s rotary dial. Before Jensen could read it out though, he was interrupted by Danneel’s sharp intake of breath and high pitched squeal. “You’re sleeping over at Jared’s? Omigod! Tell me everything. Is his cock as big as you thought it would be?”
Jensen’s own cock stirred uncomfortably at her words. “Danni!” he hissed. “He has a concussion because I crashed the helicopter he was riding in. I’m sleeping on his sofa to make sure his brain doesn’t swell up overnight and kill him!”
“Sorry,” Danni said, sounding suitably subdued. “I’m sorry. Hey!” she brightened considerably. “Maybe you’ll need to help him shower?”
“You are incorrigible,” Jensen told her. “I’m hanging up now.”
“Wait!”
“What?”
“Don’t be mad,” Jensen could almost see his best friend’s pout over the phone line. “I just want you to be happy, is all.”
Jensen sighed. “I know,” he rattled off Jared’s telephone number, so that Danni could call him and let him know what she organized with Garcia. “Actually, I need a favor. Could you come with me tomorrow to pick up Jared’s car?”
“Will I get to meet Jared?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Okay. And you can take me out to lunch too, so that we can have a talk. You can take me to that Korean BBQ, Downtown that you like.”
Jensen sighed. “Okay, fine,” he gave her Jared’s address. “Meet me here at midday. We’ll eat first, then go get the car.”
--
When Jared came shuffling out of his bedroom, his vision clear, but his head still sore, Jensen was poking around in his refrigerator.
“You hungry?” Jared said and Jensen turned around and smiled at him.
“Jay! How’re you feeling?”
“I’m okay. Starving actually.”
Jensen opened the freezer and then turned to Jared. “Dude, I think you need to go to the grocery store.”
“Yeah,” Jared grimaced. “I’ve got a bunch of Take Out menus by the phone. Why don’t you order us up some pizza or something? I’m gonna take a shower.”
Jared washed quickly and jerked off slowly, trying really hard and mostly unsuccessfully not to picture Jensen in the shower with him, his chest flush against the tiny green tiles of the shower wall and one white-knuckled hand gripping the bright orange shower curtain for balance as Jared thrust into him from behind, slow and hard, while fisting Jensen’s cock with a soapy hand until he was begging Jared to let him come.
Jared came with a gasp and prayed fervently that he hadn’t been moaning Jensen’s name, because that would just be embarrassing. He dressed in grey sweatpants and an oversized navy blue hoodie and made his way back out to the living room, where Jensen was sitting on the sofa with a beer in one hand, watching the news.
“Sorry,” Jensen said. “I guess I should’ve asked if you minded,” he gestured at Jared with the beer bottle.
Jared told him it was fine and he should feel free to help himself to whatever he wanted while he was staying at Jared’s. He sat down at the far end of the sofa and tried not to blush.
“A memorial service will be held this Saturday,” said the reporter on the television, “for murdered Councilor Loretta Devine who was stabbed last Monday night in the driveway of her own home during an attempted rape.”
Jensen tensed noticeably and Jared glanced at him briefly before turning his attention back to the television, where news reporter Megalyn Echikunwoke was talking about Devine’s work for the Mayor on urban violence, her stance on the heavy-handed surveillance techniques often employed by the police, and the increased tension in the barrio following her death.
Beside Jared, Jensen was shaking his head. “This is such bullshit,” he said.
Jared licked at his lips. “You’re not buying the attempted rape line?”
Jensen looked at him, his expression hard. “Are you?”
Jared met his gaze. “It didn’t really look that way, no. You think there’s some kind of cover up going on?”
Jensen ran a hand across his mouth. “I know what I saw, but they got two bodies in the morgue, so they can cross out Devine’s name on their unsolved cases board in a very politically expedient time frame,” Jensen shook his head. “And you saw what happened when we crashed in Watts. It’s like a tinder box down there and the target of the anger? Police.”
“That’s hardly unusual. Lotta people got no love for the cops.”
“Right,” Jensen said. “And sometimes that’s justified, and sometimes it isn’t. But you heard what that guy today said?”
Jared frowned. “Uh, I hope you broke your neck?”
“No, the other guy. He accused us of spying on people. And Councilor Devine, she was against the use of invasive police and government surveillance.”
“Right?” Jared really wasn’t sure where Jensen was going with all this.
“Jared,” Jensen said slowly. “What special assignment have we just been given?”
The penny dropped. “A helicopter with state-of-the-art surveillance capabilities. Are you saying there’s a connection between the helicopter and Councilor Devine’s death?”
Jensen shrugged. “I’m just sayin’ my spider-sense is tingling.”
Jared looked at his partner thoughtfully. “Yeah. And next year is gonna be 1984. Maybe Orwell was right. Maybe the sky’s gonna be full of stealth choppers that can see and hear into anyone’s house. So much for privacy.”
Jensen nodded and took a long swig of his beer.
“Maybe we should give an off-the-record interview to Megalyn Echikunwoke,” Jared nodded at the television. “I kind of know her a little bit. I’m not saying we’re friends or anything, but we were at UCLA together and we had a class together. She was one hell of an impressive woman; smart, articulate and not afraid to stand up to anyone. What you’re suggesting, she’d be onto that like a shot. In fact, it already sounds like she’s suspicious about Councilor Devine’s death.”
Jensen shook his head. “I don’t have any hard evidence, just suspicions. What’s she gonna say? ‘Anonymous sources within the police department say it didn’t look like an attempted rape and they’re suspicious’? Yeah, that’s solid. And given what I said to Jim afterwards, it won’t be hard to trace the leak back to me, and you know how that’s gonna go: ‘Ackles is a Vietnam veteran with a prescription for Ativan and an upcoming Psychiatric evaluation.’ Real credible source, huh?”
Jared stared at his partner. “You have an upcoming psychiatric evaluation?”
Jensen sighed. “Yeah.”
Jared sat and looked at his partner. He didn’t want to outright ask, but he really hoped that Jensen would tell him why.
Jensen ran a hand across his lips. “You, uh, know how no-one wants to fly with me anymore?”
Jared nodded.
“I’ve had a few…episodes while I’ve been flying. Flashbacks, I guess you’d call ‘em. Scared the hell outta Garcia a couple weeks back, hence the evaluation.”
Jared looked at him steadily. “Should you be flying?” he asked.
Jensen shrugged and took another long drink, his lips wrapping obscenely around the mouth of the bottle in ways that went straight to Jared’s cock, and his throat rippling when he swallowed. Jared adjusted himself surreptitiously and Jensen caught the heat in his eyes and flushed, putting the bottle down on the coffee table and eyeing Jared uncertainly.
They were saved by the ringing of Jared’s doorbell and the arrival of the pizza.
--
Danneel was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet when Jensen opened the door to her at midday the next day. She was wearing a pair of peach-colored high-waisted Capri pants and a white, off-the shoulder, v-neck, knitted sweater. She had a gauzy white bow in her hair and an oversized blue straw purse with leather handles slung over one shoulder.
“Hiya, Jenny-bean!” she beamed, stepping over the threshold and pulling him in for a hug.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” Jensen growled.
Danni giggled. “You may as well just stop, because that’s your nickname and I’m sticking to it….Jenny-bean.”
She pulled away from the hug and grabbed him by the hand. “C’mon. I want to meet Jared.”
Jared was on the sofa and the closing credits of Blade Runner were on the television screen.
“Awesome movie,” Danni said. “Harrison Ford is so sexy. I mean, he’s way cuter as Han Solo, but I definitely wouldn’t kick Rick Deckard outta my bed either. You must be Jared,” she plopped down next to Jared on the couch and stuck a hand out. Jared shook it.
“Yeah. Danneel, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Danneel waved a hand. “It’s all lies,” she said loftily.
“Really? You’re not an amazing woman and Jensen’s best friend in the whole world?”
Danneel gasped and put her hands to her face in mock shock. “He was honest with you? He must really like you.”
“Okay,” Jensen said. “We’ve gotta get going now.”
“But, Jensen,” Danni pouted. “I just got here. I haven’t finished talking to Jared yet. How are you feeling, Jared?”
Jared told her that he was feeling a lot better and that in all honesty, Jensen could probably go home.
Danneel inclined her head and studied him intently. “You know, Jensen takes that whole ‘protect and serve’ thing pretty seriously. Doubly so when it comes to his friends. Quadrupley so when he thinks a friend of his got hurt on his watch. You should probably just let him take care of you.”
Jared nodded. “Oh, I have been. He went to the grocery store for me this morning. And then he cooked me bacon and eggs with pancakes and hash browns for breakfast,” Jared patted his stomach contentedly.
Danneel grinned. “Well he did grow up hearing his mama say that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach.”
“Okay,” Jensen said. “That’s enough, Yenta. We’ve got a car to pick up.”
Danni stood up. “It was nice to meet you, Jared. And don’t worry about me driving your car. I’m an excellent driver. Tell him, Jensen.”
Jensen nodded. “She is,” he fixed Danni with a stern look. “Just remember that these are the streets of LA, not the Daytona circuit.”
Danni rolled her eyes. “Like you can talk,” she turned back to Jared. “We both did a bit of rally driving back when we were young and stupid. Just for fun, you know.”
Rally driving? Seriously. Jared learned something new about Jensen every day. He just hoped Danneel wouldn’t get a speeding ticket while driving his car.
Jensen told Jared they’d be back in a couple of hours and instructed him to take it easy.
He expected Danni to start in on him as soon as they were in the Impala, but she didn’t. She just sat quietly and looked at him, which, in some ways, was even more unnerving.
“All right, come on,” he said finally. “Let’s hear it.”
“I like him,” she said simply. “He seems nice.”
Jensen side-eyed her. “But?”
Danni sighed. “Did you see the expression on his face when he was telling me what you made him for breakfast? He liked that.”
Jensen frowned. “What’s not to like about someone cooking you bacon and eggs?”
“No,” Danni turned in her seat and pinned him with a fierce expression. “He liked that you cooked for him. Don’t you see? That’s what he really wants.”
Jensen was completely and utterly lost. Danni thought that Jared wanted a cook?
Danni scowled at his confused expression and then smacked him on the arm. “You are so obtuse, sometimes. He wants a partner. A life-partner. Someone to share day-to-day life with. He doesn’t just want to have sex with someone; he wants to cook with someone, and clean with someone, and shop with someone and take out the trash with someone. He wants a white picket fence and Thanksgiving with the whole extended family,” Jensen went white and Danni sighed. “And you? You can’t even get your dick sucked without sedating yourself and doing shots first. Can you offer him more than being your dirty little secret, Jensen? Because if you can’t, it’s not going to work. Not matter how much you like each other.”
Jensen opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Danni smiled at him so sadly that for a moment he thought she was going to cry.
“Don’t lie to me and say you don’t like him,” she said. “More importantly, don’t lie to yourself. I know you, Jensen. Deep down you want the same thing he does. You’re just too chicken to go after it.”
“It’s not that simple, Danni.”
“Sure it is,” Danni said. “You’ve just got to decide what’s important to you.”
Sweet Dreams by the Eurhythmics came on the radio and Danni squealed and turned it up. “I love this song!”
“Some of them want to use you,” Danni sang along to the chorus, “some of them want to get used by you; some of them want to abuse you; some of them want to be abused.”
Jensen stared out the windshield at the car in front of them and reflected on the lyrics that his best friend was singing. It was a pretty accurate description of his sex life, truth-be-told, and in all honesty, he was sick of it. Did he have the courage to go after something more? Jensen wasn’t sure.
--
Kim’s Korean BBQ was quiet, like always, and Jensen could never figure out why, because the food was cheap, good and plentiful. Jared would love it.
“Hello Mr Jensen, Miss Danni,” Mr Kim himself came out to greet them.
“How are things, Mr Kim?” Jensen asked.
“Not good, my friend. Not good. Somebody painted ‘gooks go home’ on the side wall again,” he shook his head. “Business is slow. I’ve had people telling me they’re only ‘buying American’ these days; that they know Asians send all their money out of the country and they won’t fund that,” he shook his head again. “I’d sell up only in this market nobody would buy. Anyway, you didn’t come here to hear my problems. What can I get you?”
As always, Jensen asked for a selection of rice and grilled meat, whatever Mr Kim recommended, and kimchi.
“So,” Danni said, when Mr Kim left their table. “How have you been? Do not say fine.”
For a moment Jensen truly considered brushing her off, insisting that he was fine, that there was nothing to worry about. But this was Danneel. His best friend. What affected him, affected her and she deserved his honesty. “I’m not sleeping well,” he admitted. “Four hours tops. And I’ve been having nightmares. I’ve also been getting flashbacks again, like I did when I was first discharged.”
“Do you know what’s triggering the flashbacks?” Danni asked and Jensen winced.
He looked away and bit at his lip, before meeting her eyes again. “Mostly flying,” he confessed. “It’s crazy. When I’m up there in my bird, it’s the only time I feel safe and in control. But then something’ll happen, I’ll see something, and it’ll remind me of something that happened over there, and I’m gone,” he leaned forward. “Danni, I can’t lose flying. If they take that away from me, I don’t think I… I don’t know what I’d do.”
“You’d adapt and survive,” Danni said sharply. She reached across the table and took ahold of his hands. “I need you,” she said. “Timmy needs you. You promised, Jensen Ackles, and I’m gonna hold you to that promise,” Jensen forced himself to maintain eye contact; made himself look at the tears that were welling in her big brown eyes; tears that he’d caused. “You will keep fighting, soldier,” she said. “You don’t get to just lay down and die, you hear me? You promised.”
“And I’m gonna keep that promise,” Jensen vowed. He bit at his lip for a moment and then said, “I’m thinking about going back to counselling. I feel like I’ve been in a holding pattern since the war. Maybe it’s time to start really flying again; make some changes.”
The thought of trying to face up to his demons again was equal parts exhilarating and terrifying, but Jensen was really starting to feel that something had to give; and he didn’t want that something to be his sanity.
--
Danni didn’t stay long when they arrived back at Jared’s place with his car. In some ways Jensen was relieved about that; she couldn’t prod and poke and meddle if she wasn’t there. On the other hand, she couldn’t be a buffer between him and Jared if she wasn’t there either, and after their conversation in the car, and Jensen’s epiphany that maybe, deep down, he actually wanted a real relationship, Jensen could have done with a buffer.
Jensen side-eyed the man sprawled beside him on the sofa and ran a hand across the back of his neck. He liked Jared and he wanted them to be friends. He was also attracted to him and the feeling seemed to be mutual and Jensen didn’t know what to do with that. He’d managed to get to his mid-thirties by putting friendship and feelings in one basket and sex in an entirely different basket. He wasn’t sure he could merge those two baskets without having a complete nervous breakdown.
And it wasn’t helping; really wasn’t helping; that Jared was shooting him concerned looks. Jensen wasn’t used to thinking of himself as a coward, but he had to admit, Jared Padalecki, and everything he represented, terrified him.
Out in the grounds of Jared’s apartment block a little girl started squealing. It was happy squealing; a child at play; but Jensen was immediately hurled into a vivid memory of a desperate man holding his daughter above his head and trying to shove her into Jensen’s helicopter.
The chopper was full and the little girl was screaming and clinging to her father who was shouting in Vietnamese: Save my little girl. Please! Save my little girl.
Take off, Lieutenant Ackles, that’s an order.
“Jensen?”
But if I take off, she’ll fall!
“Jensen? Talk to me, man.”
Take off! Now! Go, go, go!
“Jensen!”
Jensen blinked and looked into worried hazel eyes. “I’m okay,” he said.
“Flashback?” Jared asked.
“Yeah. The girl squealing,” he shuddered. Jensen suddenly realized that Jared’s hand was on his thigh and he shuddered again for an entirely different reason.
“Did you bring your medication?” Jared asked.
Jensen stared at him for a moment, shame coursing within him, and then he nodded; a small, defeated gesture.
“You’ve been anxious all afternoon,” Jared said. “Do you maybe need to take something?”
Probably wasn’t a bad idea. Jensen nodded and got to his feet.
Alone in the bathroom he splashed cold water onto his face and then met his eyes in the mirror. The eyes that stared back at him were full of self-loathing and Jensen had to grip the basin hard to resist the temptation to punch his reflection in the face.
He took half an Ativan.
When he got back to the living room, the quilt and all of Jared’s pillows were laid out on the sofa.
“Sit,” Jared said patting the sofa cushion beside him.
Jensen couldn’t think of a good reason not to, so he went and sat beside Jared.
Jared handed him a glass of something purple. Jensen sniffed at it. It smelled like blackcurrant. “What’s this?” he asked.
“Juice.”
Jensen blinked. “Juice?”
“It’ll elevate your blood sugar levels which, well, I always appreciate having my blood sugar levels elevated when I’m feeling, you know, a little low.”
Something in Jensen’s stomach flipped in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Jared was trying to take care of him.
“Thanks,” he said. And Jared’s blinding smile was worth every sip of the God-awful sweet juice.
Jared put Star Wars on the VHS and then spent the first half of the movie inching slowly closer to Jensen in a way that he probably thought was really stealthy.
Jensen decided to allow it. Mostly because he didn’t want to draw attention to Jared’s obvious interest in him, because then he’d have to deal with it. And he wasn’t sure how he wanted that to go down.
By the time the movie was finished Jared’s thigh was a strong warm line against his own and the younger man’s arm was resting across the top of his shoulders. It was cozy and snug underneath the quilt and Jensen was sleepy and content and half-hard.
“Hey, Jensen,” Jared whispered.
Jensen cocked an eyebrow in query.
“I’d like to try something,” Jared’s breath was warm against Jensen’s ear and he reached up to cup Jensen’s face and turn it toward him. “Don’t freak out,” he said and leaned in slowly. “Is this okay?” he asked, when his lips were no more than an inch from Jensen’s.
Jensen’s heart was pounding, the beats loud in his ears. He licked at his lips and then nodded.
Jared closed the distance between them and Jensen was surprised by how soft his lips were, how gently he moved his lips against Jensen’s. Jensen had never kissed a guy before; kissing was too intimate; too loving. His only experience with kissing was with girls, a long time ago. Girls didn’t have stubble. Jensen decided that he liked stubble. He brought a hand up to hold Jared’s head steady and then parted his lips and let Jared lick his way inside. For a few glorious moments, Jensen forgot himself completely, lost in the pleasure of the way Jared’s tongue slid against his, the way Jared’s fingers gripped his hair. He wanted, oh God he wanted. But what then? Jared was his partner; he wasn’t some anonymous fuck that Jensen could just walk away from. Hot on the heels of that thought was the realization that he didn’t actually want to walk away from Jared. And that was truly terrifying. He couldn’t do this. He just…couldn’t.
Jensen put a hand to Jared’s chest and pushed him back, his breathing ragged.
“Jensen?” Jared’s eyes were questioning.
“I can’t,” Jensen said.
Jared huffed. “I beg to differ. You just did.”
Jensen nodded. “I know. But I shouldn’t have. We work together. We’re partners. And I don’t…I don’t date. I can’t have a one night stand with you and then just…work with you every day and pretend it never happened.”
“So don’t,” Jared said. “Try something different. Try dating.”
Jensen shook his head. “We work together. We can’t date.”
Jensen didn’t like the helpless expression on Jared’s face, the sadness in his eyes. “So I leave Air Support,” Jared shrugged. “It’s not like I’ve been there very long.”
Jensen shook his head again. “We’re both on our last chance here, Jared, both fighting for our careers. I won’t have you quitting. I don’t want that on my conscience.”
“So what are you saying?”
Jensen drew a hand across his mouth. “We should keep this platonic. Just…stay friends.”
Jared’s smile was thin and didn’t reach his eyes. “Friends. Okay.” He moved away and gave Jensen his space.
Jensen smiled; a shaky unconvincing smile. He ran a hand through his hair. “I should go.”
“Right,” Jared said.
“I’ve got this thing with Danneel tomorrow.”
“Of course.”
Jensen stood up. “So it’s probably better if I go home tonight.
“Sure.”
“Okay then. I’ll see you… at work.”
Jensen left in a hurry and drove home far too fast.
Stopping things before they got too far was the right thing to do; the most sensible option. He couldn’t risk his career; couldn’t risk Jared’s. And he could never offer Jared what he wanted anyway; his parents didn’t even know, for Christ’s sake. First he’d been focused on his studies; such a good boy. Then he’d gone into the army; such a patriot. And then he’d gone into the police force; such an honorable man, working to uphold law and order. His parents were so proud. They’d completely bought his line that it wouldn’t be fair to marry when he had such a high risk job. They’d been disappointed, sure, but they had Isobel to give them grandkids.
Isobel suspected, of course. It was virtually impossible to keep anything secret from a little sister. But if his parents ever found out the truth, they’d be devastated. No, he’d made the right call.
So why did it feel like he’d just been shot in the gut?
--
“Hey, Uncle Jensen,” said Timmy. Danni’s son was sitting in the back seat of the car, but he was leaning forward, his arms resting on the back of both Jensen’s and his mom’s seats.
Jensen glanced at Danni, who was driving, and rubbed a hand over his chin. “Timmy, could you sit back, please? And put your seat belt on.”
Timmy scowled. “Mom!” he complained. “Do I have to?”
Danni glanced at Jensen and then looked at her son via the rearview mirror. “Do as Uncle Jensen says, please Timmy. It’s for your own safety.”
“One thing I’ve learned being a policeman,” Jensen told his de facto nephew, “is that kids being unsecured in the back seat can cause accidents.”
“Yeah,” Danneel muttered. “And accidents in the back seat can cause kids; I’ve got proof of that.”
Jensen rolled his eyes at her. She’d married Timmy’s father. It hadn’t even lasted until the kid’s birth. “What were you gonna ask me, Timmy?”
“Can I see your watch?”
“Sure,” Jensen unstrapped his digital watch and handed it to the kid. “Do you know where this place is, Danni?”
“Are you losing weight, Jensen?” Danni asked, eyeing him critically.
Jensen frowned at her. “I think you have to make a turn up here somewhere.”
“Are you sleeping any better?”
Jensen raised an eyebrow. “Are we having two different conversations here, or am I going nuts?”
Danni giggled. “Guess you’ll find that out next week.”
Jensen rolled his eyes. “Don’t remind me. So do you know where you’re going or not?”
“More or less,” Danni replied. “It’s up here on the right somewhere. Don’t sweat it, Officer Ackles, I’ll find the place.”
Jensen looked at her gas gauge. The needle was sitting on empty.
“Yeah, if you don’t run out of gas first. You do know that you can’t actually sweet talk your car into running on empty, right?”
Danni grinned at him. “Shows what you know. Besides,” she tapped the gauge. “That thing’s broken. Don’t worry, I know when my baby needs gas.”
“Mommy, mommy! You missed the train ride!” Timmy shouted.
“Dammit!” Danni said. “Okay everyone, hang on tight!”
And she hauled the wheel around and executed a neat U-turn and then hit the gas, speeding back the way they’d just come.
“Fu-ar out, Danni!” Jensen yelled. “What the he-ck are you doing? This ain’t Daytona! Also? This is a one way street!”
Danni smirked. “I won’t tell if you won’t,” she said.
Jensen gripped his seat hard and winced as a truck blared its horn at them. “This is not good for my anxiety,” he muttered. “Not good at all.”
Half an hour later Danni, Timmy, and Danay’s husband and kids were riding the mini-train, and Danay and Jensen were walking slowly beside the track.
“It was pretty hard to read,” Danay said, pulling out the crumpled piece of paper that Jensen had given to her in the car park on Wednesday.
Jensen nodded. “Could you get anything from it?”
“Yeah. It’s part of a letter. It says something about strangers in the barrio. Making trouble. Something like that.”
“Huh,” Jensen said.
“And then there’s this word. All in caps. THOR. That’s not Spanish. That mean anything to you?”
Jensen shrugged. “Aside from being a Norse God and a Marvel comic character? No,” he sighed. “Strangers in the barrio, making trouble. I dunno, Danay, maybe I’ve just been in this job too long. Maybe I’m seeing things that aren’t there.”
They puzzled it out for a while and then let it go when the others finished their train ride, and dragged them to join in the fun.
--
Danneel hummed to herself as she made hot chocolate with marshmallows. Jensen was reading Timmy a bedtime story; Timmy’s favorite, Where the Wild Things Are, complete with monster voices and everything. She’d spied on them for a little while and it was adorable, Timmy all tucked up under his quilt, clutching his favorite teddy bear and Jensen sitting on the floor beside his bed, growling, “And when he came to the place where the wild things are, they roared their terrible roars, and gnashed their terrible teeth, and rolled their terrible eyes, and showed their terrible claws,” while pulling faces and making clawing gestures with his hands.
Danneel smiled to herself remembering. Jensen was a good actor. And he would be an incredible father. It broke her heart that he would probably never get the opportunity to be one. She took the two mugs of hot chocolate into the living room and then switched on TJ Hooker. The episode was half finished before Danneel realized that Jensen hadn’t yet joined her. She checked the bathroom and then Timmy’s room. Jensen was asleep on the floor beside Timmy’s bed. Folding her arms, Danni rested her head against the door frame and watched her boys sleep. Timmy had a mop of blond hair like his father and looked like a little cherub when he was sleeping. And Jensen? Jensen looked a lot more like the kid she’d first met in college when his eyes were closed; when you couldn’t look into those green orbs and see the depths of Hell.
Jensen frowned in his sleep and began to twitch. His lips parted and he groaned; a low, wounded sound. “No,” his hands balled into fists. “No!”
Timmy stirred in his sleep and Danneel hurried to Jensen’s side.
“Jensen! Wake up,” she put a hand to his arm and he sat bolt upright, eyes open.
“Jensen?”
He blinked and turned to look at her.
“Shit,” he looked back at Timmy who was still sleeping.
“Sorry,” he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep in here.”
“It’s okay,” she offered him a hand and he took it and stood up.
“Come one,” she led him out into the living room. “I made hot chocolate for you,” she frowned. “It’s probably cold now, but I can heat it up for you in the microwave.”
She picked up the cup of lukewarm chocolate and reheated it for forty seconds. She set it on the lamp table beside Jensen, who was hugging her oversized green-and-purple cushion to his chest.
“What were you dreaming about?” she asked.
Jensen’s face became pinched. “Just…stuff from the war,” he said. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
Danneel nodded. “Lately, you seem…worse. Not quite as bad as when you first got back, but not far off. Do you know why?”
Jensen shrugged. “It comes and goes. Sometimes, I can go years and I’m good, then I’ll wake up one morning and everything’s setting me off,” he shuffled and Danni thought that he was clinging a little harder to the cushion. “Heyerdahl reappearing on the scene really hasn’t helped. And neither has all the stuff with Jared.”
Jensen’s eyes widened, like he’d just said something he shouldn’t have.
Danni cocked her head. “What stuff with Jared? Just the fact that you like him, or did something happen that you should’ve told your best friend about?”
Jensen groaned and pressed his face into the cushion. “Oh God, it’s like we’re in Junior High.”
Danneel leaned forward and poked Jensen in the ribs. “What happened with Jared?” she demanded.
Jensen bit at his bottom lip. “We kissed.”
His eyes and mouth were downturned and he looked utterly miserable.
Danni frowned. “That’s a….bad thing?”
“Yes! I mean, not the actual kiss. That was…anyway, that’s not the point. I told him we can’t. You know, I stopped it before it started.”
“Okay,” Danni said.
Jensen looked cautiously relieved. “You think I did the right thing?”
Danni sighed. “Oh Jensen,” she moved to his side and put an arm around him. “You know what the right thing would be? If you could hold your date’s hand in public without having someone screaming obscenities at you; if you could take a boyfriend home to meet your parents without your mom sobbing that you’re going to Hell; if you could actually contemplate the idea of dating; of having a permanent partner; without having a panic attack. You refusing to even give things a try with a guy you like, because you’re scared that it would work-Jensen, that’s not even in the same ballpark as the right thing.”
Jensen smiled flatly. He picked up his hot chocolate and took a sip and turned to focus on the television in one of his classic avoidance techniques. Danni sighed.
TJ Hooker finished and a commercial for the late night news came on, promising details of Councilor Loretta Devine’s memorial service, held earlier that day, and showing footage of people throwing stones and starting fires out in the barrio.
Jensen’s shoulders tightened perceptibly and Danni pressed her lips together and held him tightly.
“I love you, Jenny-bean,” she said. “Don’t ever forget that.”
--
On Monday morning, Jensen received a page from Captain Beaver and was formally requested to come into the office.
“What’s up, Jim?” he asked when he got there.
“Take a seat,” Jim said, his face impassive and his shoulders tense.
His entire demeanor suggested that this was a an official meeting rather than a more casual defacto father/son get together, so Jensen perched on the edge of the chair, with his back ramrod straight.
Captain Beaver had a manila folder on the desk in front of him. “These are the results of the air crash investigation,” he said. “The flame out was caused by a mechanical failure, and there’s no suggestion that pilot error in any way contributed to the crash,” Jim opened the folder and flicked through it. “According to the report, they took out the governor lever and found that the small hole in it had become slightly elongated. During your flight the throttle linkage moved from one end of the elongated hole to the other, which closed off the throttle and caused the engine to stall.”
Jensen processed the fact that the accident hadn’t been his fault and then sat back in his chair, legs sprawled casually. “So did the report say how that hole might’ve gotten like that?”
“The report said ‘wear and tear’ and suggested that our preventative maintenance program might be deficient. Bob, of course, denies that categorically, insists that he runs a tight ship and that something must’ve happened to speed up the damage to the governor lever.”
“Huh,” Jensen said. “Okay. Was that all, Sir?”
Jim pressed his lips together. “No. It’s not all. I’ve had a complaint from Colonel Heyerdahl. Apparently you threatened him.”
Jensen sat up straighter. “What?”
“In the parking garage. After the crash. He says you were, and I quote, ‘hostile’. Is that true?”
“I just told him to back off, that’s all.”
“That’s all?”
Jensen nodded; his eyes wide and imploring. “Yeah. He was being an ass about the crash.”
Jim sighed. “You gotta understand, Jensen, they’ve got 5 million bucks invested in that machine. They don’t wanna see it totaled.”
Jensen leaned forward in his chair. “You just told me that the crash wasn’t my fault!”
“And it wasn’t,” Jim soothed. “But last week, Heyerdahl didn’t know that.”
“Right,” Jensen stood up, his hands clenched at his side. “He just assumed I’d fucked up and had a go at me. He didn’t know….” Jensen trailed off and then frowned. “Unless he did.”
Jim stared at him. “I really hope you’re not suggesting that Colonel Heyerdahl sabotaged your bird. Because that would be an extremely serious allegation. And with no proof, it’d just be your word against his.”
“My word against his,” Jensen snorted. “Story of my life when it comes to that bastard. No, I’m not suggesting that. Not officially, anyway.”
Jim threw his hands up in the air. “Goddamn it, Jensen. Do you know how paranoid you sound?”
“Yessir,” Jensen nodded. “But just because I’m paranoid, it doesn’t mean Heyerdahl isn’t out to get me.”
Jensen really didn’t care for the slack-faced, open-mouthed way Jim was staring at him.
“Jensen,” his tone was hesitant and uncomfortable, “If you want my opinion, I do think the Feds are after your ass. They’re not happy that Mayor Williams insisted on my personnel conducting the test flight over the city, and Heyerdahl seems to like you as much as you like him. But to suggest that he might have deliberately made you crash…Jensen…son…”
Jensen scrubbed a hand over his face. “Forget about it, Jim,” he said. “It’s been a rough few days. I just need to get some sleep.”
Jim nodded. “Don’t forget that you’ve got your Psych Eval tomorrow afternoon.”
Jensen’s answering smile was devoid of warmth or humor. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I won’t.”
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