Killer Romance Fic: In the Beginning 1/1
Aug. 7th, 2011 08:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
saoneTitle: In the Beginning
Series: Killer Romance aka The Adventures of crimeboss!Jared and ex-assassin!Jensen
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
saone77
Summary: AU. All love stories have to start somewhere.
Characters: J2 and a cast of thousands... or dozens
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Not betad, grammarians beware.
Word Count: 4232
Disclaimer: This is indulgent, cracktastic fiction.
Notes: A little over a year ago I responded to this prompt over on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
spnkink_meme. Somehow, that first little fic blossomed into this whole universe thing with so many characters to play with, and so many stories to tell, I can't help but think I've just scratched the surface. Anyway, this particular story is one that's been asked about a lot, so here it is, finally. This is dedicated to everyone who's hopped on-board this crazy train in the past year. Thanks so much, and there's more to come.
Jared was bored. Really, truly, horribly bored. The kind of bored that, when he was younger, used to lead to destructive activities like making his little sister eat worms or teaching the family dog to dig in his mom's flower gardens. And, when he was slightly older, boredom led to knocking over convenience stores, which led to Jared's first stint in juvie where he made all sorts of interesting connections that promised he'd never be bored again.
They lied. But Jared can't really blame them, low-level thugs that they were, because he had had his own glamorous idea of what being a feared and respected crime boss would be like.
This definitely wasn't it.
Jared somehow resisted rolling his eyes or stabbing anyone - including himself - with a fork as talk of mutual funds drifted over to him.
Individually, Jared and the other people in this room - with it's lavishly appointed decorations and ergonomic seating - were some of the baddest asses on the planet. Like Bond-villain-type mofos. But together they were no more exciting than any other gathering of high-powered executives. And there was one irrefutable fact in life, regardless of your occupation or moral code - conferences sucked.
Hard.
At least the catering was good. After managing to stay awake during the first round of meetings and during the requisite small talk and mingling, Jared took up residence by the food table. If his mind had to suffer, at least his stomach could be happy.
"You seem bored, Jared-san." Madam Liu, head of the Yakuza and host of this year's conference, appeared at his elbow. Her smile was serene, but there was a wicked look in her eyes. Jared was reminded that her preferred method of execution was taking her ever-present sword and lopping people's heads off.
"Who, me?" Jared plastered on his best 'aw shucks' expression. "No, ma'am."
"Hmmm." Her eyes flickered to the shrimp platter he had just decimated. "Please tell me you're not still pouting because we voted down your idea to call ourselves the Legion of Doom?"
"No." Yes. That would have been awesome.
"Uh huh." The look Liu gave him was disturbingly maternal. She took his arm and began to lead him towards the floor to ceilings windows that comprised the far wall of the room. "You're one of the younger guests here, aren't you?"
"Um, well..." Twenty-five was kind of young. Most people in his position didn't get to head their own empire until their forties or fifties. But Jared had always been bright, and charming, and a bit psychotic, and had risen through the ranks and broken off on his own almost effortlessly. Still, he certainly wasn't the baby of the group. "Those kids with the wizard-shtick are younger than me," he said, almost defensively, "Oh, and the Mouse's representatives, of course."
"Yes." Liu frowned. "Them."
Jared followed her gaze to where a ridiculously attractive - in a non-threatening way - guy barely out of his teens was chatting with an equally attractive - and wholesome - young lady. As if they could feel gazes upon them, both perfectly coiffed heads turned as one towards Jared and Liu. They smiled in unison too. Creepy.
Jared barely contained a shudder. He had definitely dodged a bullet there.
With a gentle press on his elbow, Liu turned him towards the glass. Beyond the reflection of the room Jared blinked out at the lights and neon of Tokyo. He had never really felt comfortable in cities - give him open spaces any day - but he would freely admit it was beautiful.
"You have allies in this room, Jared-san," Liu said softly. "But, you also have enemies."
Using the glass as a mirror, Jared quickly found that rat-bastard Pasdar's image. Milo's defection was a year old, but it still stung. "I'm aware, Madam Liu," Jared said, "believe me." His eyes found her reflection. "Was there anything specific you brought me over here to share?"
She laughed softly. "Oh, no. I brought you over here to get you away from the h'ordeuvres. I'd neglected to warn my chef about your appetite."
Jared flushed. "Sorry. I tend to gorge when I'm bored." Or breathing. "Not that this is boring," he said quickly. "I just-"
Lui leaned in towards him. "Can I tell you a secret?" she asked, voice pitched low. "I only get through these things by picturing how everyone in the room would deal with getting some limb chopped off."
"Oh, thats..." Jared shifts uncomfortably.
"For example," Lui says, "I think you would do rather well if you ever lost a hand or an arm."
"Uh, could we not test that theory? Please?"
Lui chucked and patted his arm. "Oh, I do like you, Jared." She glanced around them and then said in a conspiratorial voice, "I sincerely doubt anything earth-shattering is going to happen for the rest of the evening. You don't have to stick around. Enjoy the rest of your night; maybe find a nice all-you-can-eat restaurant."
Jared's stomach jumped wholeheartedly on-board with that idea. Unfortunately, Jeff, his new head of security, had made him promise not to do certain things that might draw attention to his relatively new standing in the crime community, like ducking out early. Jeff also didn't want him picking fights with Pasdar and his crew, waxing lyrical about his love for Boba Fett, or making bets involving large sums of money, territory, or employees even if Jared knew for sure he would win. Jeff was kind of a stick in the mud.
"I don't know," Jared said, "I should probably stick around."
Lui stared at him for a few scary moments, then said, "I would consider it a personal favor if you left before the wait staff brought out the next course."
Oh. "What kind of course?" Jared tried not to quake as Lui's eyes narrowed. "Right. Sure. I can do that." Jared thought for a moment. "So, when you say a personal favor..."
"I'll owe you one. And trust me, the list of people I owe things to is very exclusive indeed."
The decision was kind of a no-brainer. Besides, Jeff was stuck on the first floor with all the security personnel for the other guests; he'd never know.
"Deal," Jared said, "and do you happen to know of any place around here that delivers?" Because the best way to keep Jeff in the dark was to not get him to escort Jared's disobeying ass out of the building.
That serene smile was back, along with an actual twinkle in her eyes. "I'm sure something can be arranged," Lui said. "And, perhaps, as an added show of gratitude, I could send something special up with the food? A not-so-nice young lady, or man, if you prefer."
Jared licked his lips at the offer to have not one, but two, of his appetites sated. "Make no mistake, Madam Lui, your offer is very tempting, but..." Jared generally preferred to cavort with people already already vetted and on the payroll of one of his clubs. He smiled demurely. "It's been a long, trying day. I'm thinking food, a shower, then sleep might be my best course of action."
Lui inclines her head. "Say no more. Trust me, my young friend, I'll see that you are well taken care of." She straightens her shoulders and bows slightly. Jared follows suit, and then he's striding purposefully through the room towards the door. He tries to give off the air of being on an important mission, even though his inner self is doing cartwheels at the idea of being free.
___________
After chowing down on enough food to feed a small army - or an average sized Padalecki - Jared decided to take his time in the shower. The stall was surprisingly roomy with multiple heads placed at exactly where Jared needed good water pressure to pound away at aching muscles. After using far too much hot water, and finding that his fingers were beyond pruney, Jared thought he was feeling as good as could be expected with the specter of two more days of mind-numbing meetings stretching before him.
Stepping out of the shower, he patted himself dry with an ultra plush towel which he then secured around his waist. Jared took another towel and scrubbed it through his hair, then wrapped around his head, turban-style. He took a moment to strike a few silly poses in the mirror before he exited the bathroom and promptly lost about five years off his life thanks to the guy calmly sitting in the armchair on the other side of the bed.
Jared clutched at his chest. "Holy shit, man!" Oddly enough, Jared's first instinct upon finding a strange, unexpected man in his room wasn't fear or rage, because this man, strange and unexpected though he may be, was also gorgeous. Jared had been privy to a lot of pretty as he'd risen through the ranks of the underworld, but this guy blew everyone else he'd ever had out of the water.
"Mr. Padalecki?" the man asked in a rich voice, his green eyes focusing a few inches above Jared's face.
Jared's own eyes widened, and quick as a flash he reached up and tore the towel off his head. He shook his hair out and smiled deprecatingly. "Wasn't expecting company," he said grinning, "but after seeing you I'm glad Madam Liu didn't listen."
The man's eyebrows rose. He seemed almost amused. "I... see. Mr. Pad-"
"Jared." Jared didn't want to stand on formalities, even if this was kind of a business transaction.
Yes. The stunning stranger was definitely amused. "All right," he said. "Jared. I think-"
"And you are?" As Jared sat on the edge of his bed closest to his beguiling visitor, he purposefully let his towel ride up his thighs. The guy may have been a sure thing, but Jared didn't mind throwing in a little seduction.
"You... you can call me Alec."
"Well, Alec," Jared grinned and patted the comforter beside him, "now that introductions are out of the way, why don't you get your fine ass over here so we can get to the good stuff."
Alec laughed, and not a demure little chuckle like someone in his position might offer a client. No, this was a full out guffaw. "Really?" he said, choking. "Tell me that's not your A game."
Jared blinked. Granted, he did like his bed partners to be spirited, but his ego drew the line at being insulted, especially by someone who had been sent to him as a gift. "I'm not sure the kind of treatment you're used to, darlin', but I don't recall telling you to play hard to get." He scowled as his drawl slipped out in his annoyance.
Alec leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He stared intently into Jared's eyes and said, "there appears to be a misunderstanding regarding my presence in your room. I wasn't sent here to provide... entertainment."
Warning bells started to clang in the back of Jared's mind. "Then why-"
"My original assignment was to kill you, but-"
Jared was moving before his mind had fully processed Alec's sentence. He rolled across the bed, landed on his feet, and reached behind the headboard for the blade that he had taped there earlier. His searching fingers came up empty.
"I swept the room while you were in the shower," Alec said, standing up. His voice was calm, but there was a slight tension running through his frame. "Behind the headboard, under the mattress, in your clean underwear, in your dirty underwear, behind the television, and in your left shoe, in case you were wondering. But listen-"
"Guess it looks like I'm pretty well fucked," Jared said, interrupting. He stood up to his full height and rolled his shoulders, purposefully relaxing whipcord tight muscles. "You'll excuse me if I put up a bit of a fight anyway?" Jared was taller, and he had more muscle mass than his would-be assassin. He was also a pretty good fighter, and even if he went down he was going to take a pound of Alec's flesh with him. Jared did wish that he was wearing something a little more substantial than a fucking towel that was just barely clinging to his hips. He eased around the bed and asked, "You mind if I put on some pants before we get going?"
Alec's gaze flickered to Jared's crotch, and he actually licked his lips. Jared felt a pang of regret at what he was going to do to that pretty, pretty face.
"You look okay to me," Alec said. "Seriously, though, I-"
Jared lunged. Alec dodged. Jared hit. Alec parried. Jared swept out an arm, trying to smash the side of his hand into Alec's trachea. Alec grabbed his wrist and leveraged him to the floor.
In less than a minute after going on the attack Jared had his face pushed into the carpet and a knee in the small of his back. "Son of a bitch." Well, at least he wouldn't have to live long with his embarrassment.
"That was fun." Alec wasn't even breathing hard, the bastard. He settled himself more firmly along Jared's backside. "You lost your towel."
Jared thought he'd felt a draft.
Alec leaned over, pressing his chest to Jared's bare back. His breath puffed along the shell of Jared's ear when he said, "if you're done, do you think you feel like listening to me now?"
Jared nodded, and in an instant the pressure of Alec's body was gone. Jared cautiously got his knees under him and looked over his shoulder just in time to catch a pair of his jeans before they landed on his head.
Alec shrugged and said, "you're kind of distracting."
Jared knew he shouldn't feel proud that the stupid, ninja-assassin-guy thought he was hot, but he really couldn't help it. Just like he couldn't help puffing out his chest a bit as he stood up and pulled his pants on, carefully tucking himself in before zipping.
"Like I said, I was sent here to kill you." Alec nonchalantly leaned against the dresser, his legs crossed at the ankles, and his hand in his pockets. His gaze was cool and assessing, but some of that earlier amusement was evident again in the set of his mouth and the light crinkling around his eyes.
"But?" Jared prompted after a moment of silence.
Alec took a deep breath. "But, certain… information has come to my attention."
“What kind of information?”
“The kind that has caused me to reevaluate your contract, Jared.”
“It’s Mr. Padalecki,” Jared said snidely.
If anything, that just amuses Alec further. “Of course.”
“Okay, great, you’re not going to kill me. Now, not to be rude or anything-“
“Perish the thought.”
Jared scowled. He didn’t know assassins were allowed to be smartasses. “Why are you even here? You could have just let me go on my merry way without ever announcing yourself.” Or showing his face which Jared had always thought was kind of a no-no in hired-killer land. It certainly wasn’t a face Jared was going to forget anytime soon. Maybe he would just have to hire his own kick-ass, ninja assassin to go after this kick-ass, ninja assassin. It could be like Spy vs. Spy. That would be cool.
"I'm offering my services." Alec rolled his eyes as Jared's gaze involuntarily flitted to the bed. "Not those services,” Alec said. “I want you to put me on retainer.”
“Oh, you do, do you?” Jared crossed his arms over his chest and hoped that he was schooling his expression into something other than the surprise he was feeling. “And why the everlovin’ hell should I do that?”
"So I can go after the people who want you dead, and still get paid for my troubles."
Ah. "That makes sense," Jared admits grudgingly. "In kind of a cutthroat way."
"Cutting throats is one of my specialties," Alec said. "We have a deal?"
Jared thought about it for a moment. He wouldn't need to find another kick-ass, ninja assassin if he just put this one on his payroll. And Alec being complete eye candy was a plus. Jeff would definitely not be happy with this development, but Jared could solve that little dilemma by never telling him. "Fine. But you report directly to me. No one in my organization is to know who or what you are. If we have to meet then-"
Alec's grin was positively filthy. "I think I know a part I could play. But first I should probably..." He made a little gesture with his right hand, then before Jared realized it, Alec was right in front of him.
Jared had a split second to wonder how he should react to such closeness before Alec's warm, plush lips were pressed against his. Not knowing if touching Alec would get him thrown to the floor - and not in the good way - again, Jared kind of let his arms flail a bit. Just when he was about to say fuck the consequences and clutch that tight body to him, Alec pulled back.
The green-eyed man gave Jared a speculative look and licked his lips. "Huh."
Jared shook his head slightly, trying to get all his marbles back into place. "Huh? Good huh, or bad huh?"
Alec smiled coyly. "Just... huh." He walked over to the window closest to the chair he had been occupying just a few minutes ago and, with a quick flick of his wrist, the sounds of downtown Tokyo spilled into the room. Jared didn't even know you could open those windows. "I'll be in touch," Alec said before he climbed outside.
Jared managed to get control of his senses just as the bottom of Alec's left boot disappeared. "Hey, wait a minute!" By the time he crossed the room and leaned out the window, Alec was gone.
They were on the fortieth floor.
Jared couldn't help but be a little impressed. "I've hired a fucking badass," he said with a smile.
_____________
Jared leans back in his chair, a very similar smile playing across his lips at the memory.
“Wait,” Chris says, sharing a puzzled look with the other members of the audience perched on various things around Jared's office, “that’s it?”
“Pretty much.”
Jeff’s scowling. “So, how many other times have you completely disregarded advice I’ve given you?”
Columbus ignores Jeff's grousing and asks, “don’t leave us in suspense, man; who put the contract out on you?”
Jared shrugs. “I have no idea.”
“Jensen never told you?” Columbus and Chris share another look.
“Nope," Jared says, "he never did."
“Oh, good," Chris says, "because that’s the kind of information that could never come back to bite us all on the ass.”
"You know, I didn't just say all that stuff for my health," Jeff says to Idris. "I had a lot of wisdom to share."
"Of course you did," Idris says. He waits until Jeff's attention is back on Jared, then he rolls his eyes.
“Well," Columbus says, "why did Jensen decide to not follow through with the hit?”
“Don’t know that either."
Idris sighs. "I know you're in some deep, all-consuming, soul-bonding type thing with the guy," he says distastefully, "but your nonchalance over this whole episode disturbs me."
Jared shrugs again. "Jensen said he'd take care of things, and he did. About four weeks after Tokyo, he came up to me while I was having dinner in one of my clubs-"
"I remember that," Chad says, butting in. "He came right over, to the VIP section no less, and sat himself down in your lap. Presumptuous little fucker. I almost called security on his ass."
"That would have ended well," Columbus says wryly, probably remembering the time Chad did call security to take care of Jensen and the injuries that resulted. Chris seems to be on the same page; a pained look comes over his face, and one of his hands reaches up to gingerly rub at the bridge of his nose. Oscar reaches over and pats both of them on their shoulders.
"Anyway," Jared continues, "he said everything was fine and I owed him six hundred thousand dollars. Then he told me his real name, and he asked me if I wanted to get my steak to-go and come back to his hotel room and watch a Cowboys' game." Jared grins and spreads his hands out. "How could I say no to an offer like that?"
"By thinking what it might do to the blood pressure of your poor, beleaguered head of security," Jeff growls.
"Oh, come on, Jeff," Jensen says from the doorway, "your blood pressure was fine. The only damage you thought I might do was to the petty cash reserves, and you know it." He fully enters the room and flicks a still grumbling Jeff's ear.
"Okay, maybe you'll spill," Chris says, "who did you have to take care of?"
Jensen glances at Jared for a moment, then he shakes his head. "Nuh uh. That's still classified."
Chris grumps for a moment, then he asks, "can you at least tell us why you changed your mind about following through with the contract?"
Jensen and Jared share another little glance, then Jared's pulling away from his desk just far enough for Jensen to be able to settle comfortably in the bigger man's lap.
Jensen lets his left arm wind it's way around Jared's neck, while his right carefully rested over Jared's heart. "What can I say; I was mighty impressed by what he was hiding under that towel." They laugh as Jensen's statement is met with groans and scoffs.
For some reason, this seems to signal the end of the meeting. Jared's glad because the warm weight of Jensen's body, is giving him ideas again. He does have the decency to wait until the last man leaves and shuts the door behind him, before starting to work at the fastenings on Jensen's clothes.
"Liked it better when you wore less around the house," Jared says against the soft skin of Jensen's throat.
Jensen laughs. "Playing up the whole 'kept boy' angle was fun," he admits, "but I do like being able to be me, especially in our home."
Something inside of Jared seizes for a moment. "Yeah," he says roughly. "Our home."
Jensen's got his 'I fell in love with a sap' look on. "Hey," he says, sounding puzzled, "why didn't you tell them the truth?"
"Hmm?"
"About that night, in the hotel? About what I said?"
"Oh." Jared thinks for a moment. "For one thing, no one, especially Jeff, needs to know that I once worked for the Mouse and that some of the new blood wanted to prove themselves by eliminating me. The poor guy's already got enough gray in his beard. As for the why..." He squeezes Jensen. "I don't know, I guess I just think that some things don't need to be shared."
"I fell in love with a sap," Jensen says and Jared pats himself on the back. He knew he knew that look.
"Damn right, you did," Jared says proudly. He bagged himself a gorgeous, kick-ass, ninja assassin; he thinks he's earned the right to be a little smug.
_____________
four years ago...
Jared managed to get control of his senses just as the bottom of Alec's left boot disappeared. "Hey, wait a minute!" By the time he crossed the room and leaned out the window, Alec was gone.
They were on the fortieth floor.
Jared couldn't help but be a little impressed. "I've hired a fucking badass," he said with a smile.
"Very true," said a voice above him.
Jared did absolutely not let out a high-pitched, soprano-ish, I-just-got-kicked-in-the-nutsac scream, no matter what someone named Jensen might say four odd years later.
Alec winced and used the hand not hanging onto the rig on his microfilament line to rub at his ear. "Dude."
"Sorry."
"Ow."
"I said I was sorry," Jared said irately. "What are you doing up there, anyway?"
"Uh, making my exit." Alec frowned. "It's usually pretty clean; most people don't tend to look up."
"But how are you gonna get-"
"I've got a 'chute stashed on the roof. I'm gonna basejump."
Jared felt his eyes glaze over. "That's so fucking cool."
"Right?"
"But, before you go, just..." Jared stopped and thought for a minute.
"Could you maybe hurry it up so I can get moving and there's less of a chance of me getting tired and accidentally plunging to my death?"
"Why did you decide not to go through with it?" Jared asked. "Why me?"
"I do research for every hit, and what I found... I don't like the people who hired me." Alec paused for a moment while his eyes searched Jared's face. "But I think I could like you."
Jared blinked. "Oh."
"Yeah. Besides, I'm from Texas too, and us Mavericks fans have to stick together." Alec winked and pushed a button on his rig. With a soft whirring sound, he's propelled up the line at a speed faster than Jared thought possible.
Jared's left half hanging out his window, gaping at the rapidly disappearing man. It's a good thirty seconds before he's able to shout, "fuck you, I like the Spurs! Goddammit, I am so going to regret this."
____________
end
Series: Killer Romance aka The Adventures of crimeboss!Jared and ex-assassin!Jensen
Author:
saone77Summary: AU. All love stories have to start somewhere.
Characters: J2 and a cast of thousands... or dozens
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Not betad, grammarians beware.
Word Count: 4232
Disclaimer: This is indulgent, cracktastic fiction.
Notes: A little over a year ago I responded to this prompt over on
spnkink_meme. Somehow, that first little fic blossomed into this whole universe thing with so many characters to play with, and so many stories to tell, I can't help but think I've just scratched the surface. Anyway, this particular story is one that's been asked about a lot, so here it is, finally. This is dedicated to everyone who's hopped on-board this crazy train in the past year. Thanks so much, and there's more to come.Jared was bored. Really, truly, horribly bored. The kind of bored that, when he was younger, used to lead to destructive activities like making his little sister eat worms or teaching the family dog to dig in his mom's flower gardens. And, when he was slightly older, boredom led to knocking over convenience stores, which led to Jared's first stint in juvie where he made all sorts of interesting connections that promised he'd never be bored again.
They lied. But Jared can't really blame them, low-level thugs that they were, because he had had his own glamorous idea of what being a feared and respected crime boss would be like.
This definitely wasn't it.
Jared somehow resisted rolling his eyes or stabbing anyone - including himself - with a fork as talk of mutual funds drifted over to him.
Individually, Jared and the other people in this room - with it's lavishly appointed decorations and ergonomic seating - were some of the baddest asses on the planet. Like Bond-villain-type mofos. But together they were no more exciting than any other gathering of high-powered executives. And there was one irrefutable fact in life, regardless of your occupation or moral code - conferences sucked.
Hard.
At least the catering was good. After managing to stay awake during the first round of meetings and during the requisite small talk and mingling, Jared took up residence by the food table. If his mind had to suffer, at least his stomach could be happy.
"You seem bored, Jared-san." Madam Liu, head of the Yakuza and host of this year's conference, appeared at his elbow. Her smile was serene, but there was a wicked look in her eyes. Jared was reminded that her preferred method of execution was taking her ever-present sword and lopping people's heads off.
"Who, me?" Jared plastered on his best 'aw shucks' expression. "No, ma'am."
"Hmmm." Her eyes flickered to the shrimp platter he had just decimated. "Please tell me you're not still pouting because we voted down your idea to call ourselves the Legion of Doom?"
"No." Yes. That would have been awesome.
"Uh huh." The look Liu gave him was disturbingly maternal. She took his arm and began to lead him towards the floor to ceilings windows that comprised the far wall of the room. "You're one of the younger guests here, aren't you?"
"Um, well..." Twenty-five was kind of young. Most people in his position didn't get to head their own empire until their forties or fifties. But Jared had always been bright, and charming, and a bit psychotic, and had risen through the ranks and broken off on his own almost effortlessly. Still, he certainly wasn't the baby of the group. "Those kids with the wizard-shtick are younger than me," he said, almost defensively, "Oh, and the Mouse's representatives, of course."
"Yes." Liu frowned. "Them."
Jared followed her gaze to where a ridiculously attractive - in a non-threatening way - guy barely out of his teens was chatting with an equally attractive - and wholesome - young lady. As if they could feel gazes upon them, both perfectly coiffed heads turned as one towards Jared and Liu. They smiled in unison too. Creepy.
Jared barely contained a shudder. He had definitely dodged a bullet there.
With a gentle press on his elbow, Liu turned him towards the glass. Beyond the reflection of the room Jared blinked out at the lights and neon of Tokyo. He had never really felt comfortable in cities - give him open spaces any day - but he would freely admit it was beautiful.
"You have allies in this room, Jared-san," Liu said softly. "But, you also have enemies."
Using the glass as a mirror, Jared quickly found that rat-bastard Pasdar's image. Milo's defection was a year old, but it still stung. "I'm aware, Madam Liu," Jared said, "believe me." His eyes found her reflection. "Was there anything specific you brought me over here to share?"
She laughed softly. "Oh, no. I brought you over here to get you away from the h'ordeuvres. I'd neglected to warn my chef about your appetite."
Jared flushed. "Sorry. I tend to gorge when I'm bored." Or breathing. "Not that this is boring," he said quickly. "I just-"
Lui leaned in towards him. "Can I tell you a secret?" she asked, voice pitched low. "I only get through these things by picturing how everyone in the room would deal with getting some limb chopped off."
"Oh, thats..." Jared shifts uncomfortably.
"For example," Lui says, "I think you would do rather well if you ever lost a hand or an arm."
"Uh, could we not test that theory? Please?"
Lui chucked and patted his arm. "Oh, I do like you, Jared." She glanced around them and then said in a conspiratorial voice, "I sincerely doubt anything earth-shattering is going to happen for the rest of the evening. You don't have to stick around. Enjoy the rest of your night; maybe find a nice all-you-can-eat restaurant."
Jared's stomach jumped wholeheartedly on-board with that idea. Unfortunately, Jeff, his new head of security, had made him promise not to do certain things that might draw attention to his relatively new standing in the crime community, like ducking out early. Jeff also didn't want him picking fights with Pasdar and his crew, waxing lyrical about his love for Boba Fett, or making bets involving large sums of money, territory, or employees even if Jared knew for sure he would win. Jeff was kind of a stick in the mud.
"I don't know," Jared said, "I should probably stick around."
Lui stared at him for a few scary moments, then said, "I would consider it a personal favor if you left before the wait staff brought out the next course."
Oh. "What kind of course?" Jared tried not to quake as Lui's eyes narrowed. "Right. Sure. I can do that." Jared thought for a moment. "So, when you say a personal favor..."
"I'll owe you one. And trust me, the list of people I owe things to is very exclusive indeed."
The decision was kind of a no-brainer. Besides, Jeff was stuck on the first floor with all the security personnel for the other guests; he'd never know.
"Deal," Jared said, "and do you happen to know of any place around here that delivers?" Because the best way to keep Jeff in the dark was to not get him to escort Jared's disobeying ass out of the building.
That serene smile was back, along with an actual twinkle in her eyes. "I'm sure something can be arranged," Lui said. "And, perhaps, as an added show of gratitude, I could send something special up with the food? A not-so-nice young lady, or man, if you prefer."
Jared licked his lips at the offer to have not one, but two, of his appetites sated. "Make no mistake, Madam Lui, your offer is very tempting, but..." Jared generally preferred to cavort with people already already vetted and on the payroll of one of his clubs. He smiled demurely. "It's been a long, trying day. I'm thinking food, a shower, then sleep might be my best course of action."
Lui inclines her head. "Say no more. Trust me, my young friend, I'll see that you are well taken care of." She straightens her shoulders and bows slightly. Jared follows suit, and then he's striding purposefully through the room towards the door. He tries to give off the air of being on an important mission, even though his inner self is doing cartwheels at the idea of being free.
___________
After chowing down on enough food to feed a small army - or an average sized Padalecki - Jared decided to take his time in the shower. The stall was surprisingly roomy with multiple heads placed at exactly where Jared needed good water pressure to pound away at aching muscles. After using far too much hot water, and finding that his fingers were beyond pruney, Jared thought he was feeling as good as could be expected with the specter of two more days of mind-numbing meetings stretching before him.
Stepping out of the shower, he patted himself dry with an ultra plush towel which he then secured around his waist. Jared took another towel and scrubbed it through his hair, then wrapped around his head, turban-style. He took a moment to strike a few silly poses in the mirror before he exited the bathroom and promptly lost about five years off his life thanks to the guy calmly sitting in the armchair on the other side of the bed.
Jared clutched at his chest. "Holy shit, man!" Oddly enough, Jared's first instinct upon finding a strange, unexpected man in his room wasn't fear or rage, because this man, strange and unexpected though he may be, was also gorgeous. Jared had been privy to a lot of pretty as he'd risen through the ranks of the underworld, but this guy blew everyone else he'd ever had out of the water.
"Mr. Padalecki?" the man asked in a rich voice, his green eyes focusing a few inches above Jared's face.
Jared's own eyes widened, and quick as a flash he reached up and tore the towel off his head. He shook his hair out and smiled deprecatingly. "Wasn't expecting company," he said grinning, "but after seeing you I'm glad Madam Liu didn't listen."
The man's eyebrows rose. He seemed almost amused. "I... see. Mr. Pad-"
"Jared." Jared didn't want to stand on formalities, even if this was kind of a business transaction.
Yes. The stunning stranger was definitely amused. "All right," he said. "Jared. I think-"
"And you are?" As Jared sat on the edge of his bed closest to his beguiling visitor, he purposefully let his towel ride up his thighs. The guy may have been a sure thing, but Jared didn't mind throwing in a little seduction.
"You... you can call me Alec."
"Well, Alec," Jared grinned and patted the comforter beside him, "now that introductions are out of the way, why don't you get your fine ass over here so we can get to the good stuff."
Alec laughed, and not a demure little chuckle like someone in his position might offer a client. No, this was a full out guffaw. "Really?" he said, choking. "Tell me that's not your A game."
Jared blinked. Granted, he did like his bed partners to be spirited, but his ego drew the line at being insulted, especially by someone who had been sent to him as a gift. "I'm not sure the kind of treatment you're used to, darlin', but I don't recall telling you to play hard to get." He scowled as his drawl slipped out in his annoyance.
Alec leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He stared intently into Jared's eyes and said, "there appears to be a misunderstanding regarding my presence in your room. I wasn't sent here to provide... entertainment."
Warning bells started to clang in the back of Jared's mind. "Then why-"
"My original assignment was to kill you, but-"
Jared was moving before his mind had fully processed Alec's sentence. He rolled across the bed, landed on his feet, and reached behind the headboard for the blade that he had taped there earlier. His searching fingers came up empty.
"I swept the room while you were in the shower," Alec said, standing up. His voice was calm, but there was a slight tension running through his frame. "Behind the headboard, under the mattress, in your clean underwear, in your dirty underwear, behind the television, and in your left shoe, in case you were wondering. But listen-"
"Guess it looks like I'm pretty well fucked," Jared said, interrupting. He stood up to his full height and rolled his shoulders, purposefully relaxing whipcord tight muscles. "You'll excuse me if I put up a bit of a fight anyway?" Jared was taller, and he had more muscle mass than his would-be assassin. He was also a pretty good fighter, and even if he went down he was going to take a pound of Alec's flesh with him. Jared did wish that he was wearing something a little more substantial than a fucking towel that was just barely clinging to his hips. He eased around the bed and asked, "You mind if I put on some pants before we get going?"
Alec's gaze flickered to Jared's crotch, and he actually licked his lips. Jared felt a pang of regret at what he was going to do to that pretty, pretty face.
"You look okay to me," Alec said. "Seriously, though, I-"
Jared lunged. Alec dodged. Jared hit. Alec parried. Jared swept out an arm, trying to smash the side of his hand into Alec's trachea. Alec grabbed his wrist and leveraged him to the floor.
In less than a minute after going on the attack Jared had his face pushed into the carpet and a knee in the small of his back. "Son of a bitch." Well, at least he wouldn't have to live long with his embarrassment.
"That was fun." Alec wasn't even breathing hard, the bastard. He settled himself more firmly along Jared's backside. "You lost your towel."
Jared thought he'd felt a draft.
Alec leaned over, pressing his chest to Jared's bare back. His breath puffed along the shell of Jared's ear when he said, "if you're done, do you think you feel like listening to me now?"
Jared nodded, and in an instant the pressure of Alec's body was gone. Jared cautiously got his knees under him and looked over his shoulder just in time to catch a pair of his jeans before they landed on his head.
Alec shrugged and said, "you're kind of distracting."
Jared knew he shouldn't feel proud that the stupid, ninja-assassin-guy thought he was hot, but he really couldn't help it. Just like he couldn't help puffing out his chest a bit as he stood up and pulled his pants on, carefully tucking himself in before zipping.
"Like I said, I was sent here to kill you." Alec nonchalantly leaned against the dresser, his legs crossed at the ankles, and his hand in his pockets. His gaze was cool and assessing, but some of that earlier amusement was evident again in the set of his mouth and the light crinkling around his eyes.
"But?" Jared prompted after a moment of silence.
Alec took a deep breath. "But, certain… information has come to my attention."
“What kind of information?”
“The kind that has caused me to reevaluate your contract, Jared.”
“It’s Mr. Padalecki,” Jared said snidely.
If anything, that just amuses Alec further. “Of course.”
“Okay, great, you’re not going to kill me. Now, not to be rude or anything-“
“Perish the thought.”
Jared scowled. He didn’t know assassins were allowed to be smartasses. “Why are you even here? You could have just let me go on my merry way without ever announcing yourself.” Or showing his face which Jared had always thought was kind of a no-no in hired-killer land. It certainly wasn’t a face Jared was going to forget anytime soon. Maybe he would just have to hire his own kick-ass, ninja assassin to go after this kick-ass, ninja assassin. It could be like Spy vs. Spy. That would be cool.
"I'm offering my services." Alec rolled his eyes as Jared's gaze involuntarily flitted to the bed. "Not those services,” Alec said. “I want you to put me on retainer.”
“Oh, you do, do you?” Jared crossed his arms over his chest and hoped that he was schooling his expression into something other than the surprise he was feeling. “And why the everlovin’ hell should I do that?”
"So I can go after the people who want you dead, and still get paid for my troubles."
Ah. "That makes sense," Jared admits grudgingly. "In kind of a cutthroat way."
"Cutting throats is one of my specialties," Alec said. "We have a deal?"
Jared thought about it for a moment. He wouldn't need to find another kick-ass, ninja assassin if he just put this one on his payroll. And Alec being complete eye candy was a plus. Jeff would definitely not be happy with this development, but Jared could solve that little dilemma by never telling him. "Fine. But you report directly to me. No one in my organization is to know who or what you are. If we have to meet then-"
Alec's grin was positively filthy. "I think I know a part I could play. But first I should probably..." He made a little gesture with his right hand, then before Jared realized it, Alec was right in front of him.
Jared had a split second to wonder how he should react to such closeness before Alec's warm, plush lips were pressed against his. Not knowing if touching Alec would get him thrown to the floor - and not in the good way - again, Jared kind of let his arms flail a bit. Just when he was about to say fuck the consequences and clutch that tight body to him, Alec pulled back.
The green-eyed man gave Jared a speculative look and licked his lips. "Huh."
Jared shook his head slightly, trying to get all his marbles back into place. "Huh? Good huh, or bad huh?"
Alec smiled coyly. "Just... huh." He walked over to the window closest to the chair he had been occupying just a few minutes ago and, with a quick flick of his wrist, the sounds of downtown Tokyo spilled into the room. Jared didn't even know you could open those windows. "I'll be in touch," Alec said before he climbed outside.
Jared managed to get control of his senses just as the bottom of Alec's left boot disappeared. "Hey, wait a minute!" By the time he crossed the room and leaned out the window, Alec was gone.
They were on the fortieth floor.
Jared couldn't help but be a little impressed. "I've hired a fucking badass," he said with a smile.
_____________
Jared leans back in his chair, a very similar smile playing across his lips at the memory.
“Wait,” Chris says, sharing a puzzled look with the other members of the audience perched on various things around Jared's office, “that’s it?”
“Pretty much.”
Jeff’s scowling. “So, how many other times have you completely disregarded advice I’ve given you?”
Columbus ignores Jeff's grousing and asks, “don’t leave us in suspense, man; who put the contract out on you?”
Jared shrugs. “I have no idea.”
“Jensen never told you?” Columbus and Chris share another look.
“Nope," Jared says, "he never did."
“Oh, good," Chris says, "because that’s the kind of information that could never come back to bite us all on the ass.”
"You know, I didn't just say all that stuff for my health," Jeff says to Idris. "I had a lot of wisdom to share."
"Of course you did," Idris says. He waits until Jeff's attention is back on Jared, then he rolls his eyes.
“Well," Columbus says, "why did Jensen decide to not follow through with the hit?”
“Don’t know that either."
Idris sighs. "I know you're in some deep, all-consuming, soul-bonding type thing with the guy," he says distastefully, "but your nonchalance over this whole episode disturbs me."
Jared shrugs again. "Jensen said he'd take care of things, and he did. About four weeks after Tokyo, he came up to me while I was having dinner in one of my clubs-"
"I remember that," Chad says, butting in. "He came right over, to the VIP section no less, and sat himself down in your lap. Presumptuous little fucker. I almost called security on his ass."
"That would have ended well," Columbus says wryly, probably remembering the time Chad did call security to take care of Jensen and the injuries that resulted. Chris seems to be on the same page; a pained look comes over his face, and one of his hands reaches up to gingerly rub at the bridge of his nose. Oscar reaches over and pats both of them on their shoulders.
"Anyway," Jared continues, "he said everything was fine and I owed him six hundred thousand dollars. Then he told me his real name, and he asked me if I wanted to get my steak to-go and come back to his hotel room and watch a Cowboys' game." Jared grins and spreads his hands out. "How could I say no to an offer like that?"
"By thinking what it might do to the blood pressure of your poor, beleaguered head of security," Jeff growls.
"Oh, come on, Jeff," Jensen says from the doorway, "your blood pressure was fine. The only damage you thought I might do was to the petty cash reserves, and you know it." He fully enters the room and flicks a still grumbling Jeff's ear.
"Okay, maybe you'll spill," Chris says, "who did you have to take care of?"
Jensen glances at Jared for a moment, then he shakes his head. "Nuh uh. That's still classified."
Chris grumps for a moment, then he asks, "can you at least tell us why you changed your mind about following through with the contract?"
Jensen and Jared share another little glance, then Jared's pulling away from his desk just far enough for Jensen to be able to settle comfortably in the bigger man's lap.
Jensen lets his left arm wind it's way around Jared's neck, while his right carefully rested over Jared's heart. "What can I say; I was mighty impressed by what he was hiding under that towel." They laugh as Jensen's statement is met with groans and scoffs.
For some reason, this seems to signal the end of the meeting. Jared's glad because the warm weight of Jensen's body, is giving him ideas again. He does have the decency to wait until the last man leaves and shuts the door behind him, before starting to work at the fastenings on Jensen's clothes.
"Liked it better when you wore less around the house," Jared says against the soft skin of Jensen's throat.
Jensen laughs. "Playing up the whole 'kept boy' angle was fun," he admits, "but I do like being able to be me, especially in our home."
Something inside of Jared seizes for a moment. "Yeah," he says roughly. "Our home."
Jensen's got his 'I fell in love with a sap' look on. "Hey," he says, sounding puzzled, "why didn't you tell them the truth?"
"Hmm?"
"About that night, in the hotel? About what I said?"
"Oh." Jared thinks for a moment. "For one thing, no one, especially Jeff, needs to know that I once worked for the Mouse and that some of the new blood wanted to prove themselves by eliminating me. The poor guy's already got enough gray in his beard. As for the why..." He squeezes Jensen. "I don't know, I guess I just think that some things don't need to be shared."
"I fell in love with a sap," Jensen says and Jared pats himself on the back. He knew he knew that look.
"Damn right, you did," Jared says proudly. He bagged himself a gorgeous, kick-ass, ninja assassin; he thinks he's earned the right to be a little smug.
_____________
four years ago...
Jared managed to get control of his senses just as the bottom of Alec's left boot disappeared. "Hey, wait a minute!" By the time he crossed the room and leaned out the window, Alec was gone.
They were on the fortieth floor.
Jared couldn't help but be a little impressed. "I've hired a fucking badass," he said with a smile.
"Very true," said a voice above him.
Jared did absolutely not let out a high-pitched, soprano-ish, I-just-got-kicked-in-the-nutsac scream, no matter what someone named Jensen might say four odd years later.
Alec winced and used the hand not hanging onto the rig on his microfilament line to rub at his ear. "Dude."
"Sorry."
"Ow."
"I said I was sorry," Jared said irately. "What are you doing up there, anyway?"
"Uh, making my exit." Alec frowned. "It's usually pretty clean; most people don't tend to look up."
"But how are you gonna get-"
"I've got a 'chute stashed on the roof. I'm gonna basejump."
Jared felt his eyes glaze over. "That's so fucking cool."
"Right?"
"But, before you go, just..." Jared stopped and thought for a minute.
"Could you maybe hurry it up so I can get moving and there's less of a chance of me getting tired and accidentally plunging to my death?"
"Why did you decide not to go through with it?" Jared asked. "Why me?"
"I do research for every hit, and what I found... I don't like the people who hired me." Alec paused for a moment while his eyes searched Jared's face. "But I think I could like you."
Jared blinked. "Oh."
"Yeah. Besides, I'm from Texas too, and us Mavericks fans have to stick together." Alec winked and pushed a button on his rig. With a soft whirring sound, he's propelled up the line at a speed faster than Jared thought possible.
Jared's left half hanging out his window, gaping at the rapidly disappearing man. It's a good thirty seconds before he's able to shout, "fuck you, I like the Spurs! Goddammit, I am so going to regret this."
____________
end