saone | Killer Romance Fic: Volatile 1/1

Title: Volatile
Series: Killer Romance aka The Adventures of crimeboss!Jared and ex-assassin!Jensen
Author:

saone77
Summary: AU. When the team gets attacked, Jensen goes on the offensive, but he might just be surprised by what he finds.
Characters: J2, some Losers, and a few other folks.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Not betad, grammarians beware.
Word Count: 4188
Disclaimer: This is indulgent, cracktastic fiction.

"I'm gonna kill Collins!"

Jensen sighs but doesn't bother to look up from the latest issue of National Geographic. While normally Jared and Jensen prefer to relax in their private living area upstairs, tonight finds them both sacked out in their sleepwear on one of the couches in the communal living room. Their change of location has nothing to do with the fact that it's creeping up on two in the morning and Jeff and the others still haven't gotten back from their 'boys' night' yet. Nope. Nothing at all.

"We'd make awesome parents."

"Shut up, Jared."

"Jared," Jensen says as he turns a page, "this should go without saying, but you're not allowed to kill our FBI informant because he beat you at some word game."

Jared practically bristles with indignity, his iPhone clutched tightly in one hand. "It's not just a word game, Jensen, it's-"

"Something I care absolutely nothing about? You're right, that too."

Jared huffs, and pouts, and scrunches himself deeper into the cushions on his end of the couch.

Jensen turns another page and tries to ignore Jared's increasingly lengthy sighs. But, after a particularly impressive exhale, he gives up trying to make any sense out of what had been a very engaging article. Jensen would never admit it, but something just doesn't sit right inside of him when Jared is upset, even if said upset-ness is mostly put on and over something completely silly.

Jensen lowers his magazine enough so he can look over the top of it. He stretches out one leg and lets his sock-covered foot run up along the length of Jared's calf. "Aw, baby," he says, the teasing tone in his voice half amusement, half enticement, "don't be that way."

Jared snorts. Then, in the blink of an eye, his pout is replaced by something far more predatory. He pats his thigh and Jensen sees it for the invitation it clearly is.

Jensen throws his magazine over the back of the couch and twists around until he's on his knees. He starts to crawl up the length of Jared's body, and just when he gets to a very interesting location the front door bangs open.

Jensen pushes Jared down into the couch and peeks over the back. He relaxes as Chris' voice filters down the hallway, then tenses up again when he hears what that voice is saying.

"Ow! Shit, Oscar, be gentle!"

Jensen and Jared share a look.

"It's about time," Jared says quietly, "but I really wish they wouldn't get their freak on in the foyer."

Jensen thinks neither he nor Jared have a leg to stand on when it comes to hoping others avoid sex in public areas of the house, and he's about to state that opinion when another voice reaches them.

"Oh, shut up," Columbus says.

Jensen's and Jared's eyebrows shoot up.

"Whoa," Jared whispers. "Threesome?"

"Did not see that coming," Jensen says.

"God, you big baby," Columbus continues, "she barely clipped you. Jeff got his fucking ass kicked."

Jensen and Jared share another look, then both of them vault over the back of the couch and hurry out into the hall.

Chris spots them first. "Oh, hey, guys," he says weakly. He's leaning against the wall and using his right hand to clutch a rapidly reddening towel to his left arm. "You waited up; that's so sweet."

Jensen takes a second to check out the rest of the crew. Chris is the only one bleeding profusely, though Jeff looks beat to hell. Columbus, Oscar and Idris appear unharmed but extremely pissed off.

"What the hell happened?!" Jared demands, compete with arm-waving action.

"Jeff got his ass handed to him by some girl," Idris says, "who then proceeded to wing Chris as she was making her getaway."

"Okay, first of all," Jeff says, swaying on his feet, "she wasn't a girl. I'm not a hundred percent certain she was human. I think she might have been possessed. I'm pretty sure her eyes were completely black." He ends his serious and solemn statement by keeling sharply to the left. Jeff is only saved from faceplanting by Idris' quick reflexes and strong arms.

"Yeah," Jensen says, moving to help Idris, "let's see what you have to say when your pupils are back to being the same size, okay, Champ?"

"Uh, hi," Chris says, "I don't mean to be a whiner, but could we maybe do something about the hole in my arm?"

"Everybody to Sickbay," Jared says. He starts making shooing motions as he ushers the six grown men down the hall. Jensen would find it adorable if he wasn't having trouble keeping Jeff upright - fucker was heavier than he looked.

As they shuffle towards Sickbay - or the 'laundry room', as Jensen likes to call it - Jared peppers the non-concussed or bleeding with questions.

"I don't know who she was, man," Columbus says. "I've never seen her before." There are head shakes and grunts of agreement. "She was kinda cute, in a completely vicious and psychotic way." There are head nods and more grunts of agreement.

"She had black eyes," Jeff says again. "Dolls eyes."

"'Course she did, mate," Idris says patting Jeff on his chest.

They reach the laundry room and Jeff and Chris get propped up against the washer and dryer, respectively. The far wall holds shelves upon shelves of medical supplies - and the odd box of dryer sheets - and Oscar rifles through the various packs of gauze and disinfectants.

"Should I call Sam?" Jared asks, staring hard at Chris' arm. "I'm gonna call Sam."

"No!" Chris says sharply. "Uh, I mean, no, thank you, that won't be necessary. Jensen can stitch me up. Right Jensen?" He turns his big, baby blues Jensen's way.

Jensen sighs and rolls his eyes. "As long as it's not too serious." Truth be told, he has no desire to deal with a rudely awakened Doc Ferris either. Jensen gingerly moves Chris' hand, then the towel he has pressed against his wound. He peers into the red, creased flesh. "You know cleaning this out is gonna hurt like a bitch, right?"

"Dude, you can Vicodin me any time now."

"Not until I get the full story," Jared says, crossing his arms over his chest and looking deliciously intimidating, in Jensen's opinion.

"We were at a club - the one Sheppard runs," Idris says, "and, I don't know, one minute everything was fine. We were having drinks, chatting with a few ladies. Grace, over there," Idris inclines his head towards Chris, "was doing his 'Flailing Around Like a Drunken Monkey' dance routine," Chris extends the middle finger of his right hand, "then, all of a sudden, the girl Jeff was getting close to went nuts."

"No," Oscar says, "not nuts. It was deliberate. An attack. The way she moved in, got close, that was... calculated."

"You think she targeted Jeff?" Jensen asks before snapping on a pair of gloves and bending back over Chris' arm.

"I think she was targeting all of us," Columbus says. "She worked Jeff over in less than a minute and just when we realized what was going on, she had a gun out and was shooting up the place. She was trained, man. And fast."

"S'true," Idris says. He glances towards Jensen. "Might even be faster than you."

Jensen's not sure if Idris means that as a slight against Jensen's skills, his age, or as just as a simple observation, so he keeps his mouth shut and irrigates Chris' wound.

"Holy fuckballs!" Chris' entire body seizes up.

"Told you it would hurt,"

Chris pants. "Tell me we're gonna kill her."

"Yeah, man," Jensen says quietly, "we're gonna kill her."

_____________

After Chris and Jeff are patched up, drugged up, and sent to bed...

"See, told you we'd make awesome parents."

"Shut up, Jared."

Jared, Jensen, and what's left of the security team convene in Jared's office. More questions are asked and answered, and a more complete description is given before the exhausted men go off to get some rest of their own

The assailant doesn't sound familiar, but Jensen knows where to start looking. He briefly considers going out tonight, but Jared, reading his mind, gives him a quick kiss and tells him to wait until morning.

"Get a least a couple hours of sleep," he says. "Start fresh." Jared pauses, his brow furrowed in thought. "If Oscar's right - and I think he is - if they were specifically targeted, then I don't think you need to worry about having to track her out of the country."

Jensen makes a noncommittal noise. There's something off about the situation, but the answer he's looking for isn't coming to him.

Jensen knows there's no point in chasing after that errant thought tonight, so he lets Jared take his hand and lead him upstairs to their bedroom. Besides, Jared was right; Jensen needs his sleep. He's going hunting in the morning.

_____________

Jensen gets to Sheppard's club at around ten. He parks his bike in the back and takes a moment to study the area, noting several cameras mounted on the surrounding buildings. He sees a lot of grainy footage in his future.

The club doesn't officially open for hours but the door's unlocked when Jensen tries it. He hasn't been in Mark's pseudo English pub a lot over the years - Jared prefers to party at Mike's when they have a night out - but it's not hard to spot the damage their mystery assailant caused the previous night. Jensen feels glass crunch under his boot.

"Hey," he calls out to some random guy carrying a broom, "you missed a some."

The guy nods, and Jensen ventures over to the bar. He's not surprised to find Mark there, holding court by the taps. He's having an animated conversation of some sort with two pale, skinny guys and a pretty redhead.

Jensen clears his throat and raises an eyebrow when Mark's gaze swivels toward him.

"I was wondering when you'd get here," Mark says to Jensen. Then, to the trio, "scram. The grown-ups need to talk."

Jensen nods politely as the men and woman pass, and they all pretend not to size each other up. He takes one of their vacated seats at the bar, leans in, and asks in a low voice, "a bowtie? Really?"

Mark shrugs. "Eh. He thinks it's cool. And, before you ask, no, I don't know who she was." He rubs at a blemish on the wooden bartop. "The boys alright?"

"They will be." Jensen narrows his eyes. "You sure she wasn't familiar?" It's not that he doubts Mark's loyalty, it's just that the Brit has worked with a lot of people over the years. It's a standard assumption that Mark Sheppard knows everyone.

Mark snorts. "I don't know everyone, love." He gives Jensen a shark's grin. "Most everyone, but not everyone everyone." He licks his lips and somehow manages to look even shiftier than normal. "However," he says, "I do know someone who might be able to help you. Bloke showed up not too long before you did this morning; said he'd heard through the grapevine what had happened and offered his assistance."

"Who?"

"First, I want your solemn promise that you will not shoot, stab, or otherwise cause great bodily harm first, and ask questions later."

Jensen's eyes narrow again. "Who, Mark?"

Mark gives him a stern look. "Promise."

"Fine," Jensen huffs, "I solemnly swear I will not fly into a rage and immediately kill your informant. Happy?"

"Ecstatic. He's in my office," Mark says. "An office that contains extremely fragile and breakable things."

Jensen waves him off as he stands and leaves the bar area. "Yeah, yeah, got it."

Jensen slips through the doorway beside the bar, then walks down the darkly paneled hallway to Mark's office. Jensen pauses. He intends on keeping his word, but he's not sure if Mark wrangled a similar promise of out whoever's on the other side of the heavy, wooden door. Deciding that Mark made no mention of not defending himself, Jensen turns the doorknob and slowly eases inside. The reveal of Mark's mystery person is anticlimactic to say the least.

Jensen leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest. "Milo."

"Jensen." Milo looks the picture of relaxation sitting in one of the two overstuffed leather chairs that flank Mark's desk. "Sheppard did tell you not to kill me, right?"

"He did request that, yes," Jensen says. "You know who the girl is?"

"Possibly."

Jensen huffs. "Either you do, or you don't."

"Easy, Cowboy," Milo says. "I didn't lay eyes on her myself, but from the description I got, yeah, I'm pretty I know her. Well," Milo ameds, "I don't know her directly, but..." Milo shifts in the chair, crossing one leg over the other. "See, Adrian's kind of a control freak-"

"No! Really?"

"You're not as cute as Jared thinks you are," Milo says. "Anyway, Adrian likes to keep tabs on his people, even if they leave his organization. The chick ran with an old friend of ours for a while before said friend and his BF decided to move to Napa and take over a winery." Milo cocks his head and gives Jensen the strangest look. It's almost... amiable. "They do tastings every Saturday," Milo says, "and there are a couple B and Bs nearby. You and Jared should head up there for a weekend; it's really romantic."

"I... uh... 'kay." Jensen blinks a few times. "Yeah. The girl?"

"Right. Her name's Zoe Saldana," Milo says. "As far as I can tell, she's a free agent. I don't know why she went after your boys, or who might have sent her." He taps a finger against his knee. "We heard you had a bit of trouble not too long ago; might be the same people."

Jensen makes a noncommittal noise. "There anything else?"

Milo smirks and spreads both hands out in front of him. "That not enough?"

"More than I would have thought, actually," Jensen says. "So, I just have one more question."

"Shoot. Not literally, though."

Jensen rolls his eyes. "Why are you being helpful? It's weird."

"Hey, don't worry, we're not looking to hang out and sing Kumbayah around a camp fire," Milo says. "It's just, lately we've heard rumblings-"

"What kind of rumblings?" Jensen asks.

"The ones that accompany new players coming into town." Milo shrugs. "Jared's the devil we know, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. Why do you think you and Pasdar are still breathing?" Jensen asks. He and Milo share a smirk. Jensen knows their two organizations will never be anything resembling friendly, and, if pressed, he'd still have no trouble slitting the guy's throat, but he can certainly appreciate a cordial ceasefire when he sees one.

"So," Jensen says, "where exactly is this winery?"

_____________

"Since you don't have a self-satisfied look on your face I'm going to assume that my office is still intact," Mark says when Jensen emerges from the back.

"I didn't even give him a papercut," Jensen says. He holds up two fingers. "Scout's honor."

Mark snorts. "You were never a scout."

"No," Jensen pauses as he thinks back, "but I dressed up like one once."

Mark gives him a disturbingly appraising look. "Kinky."

"Unfortunately not," Jensen says. "It was part of a ruse to get close to a mark. Though, it was a good opportunity for me to brush up on my knot skills." He shakes his head. "I'm gonna need to look at your security-"

"Cued up and ready."

"Good. And the surrounding buildings' cameras-"

"I sent some people around this morning to collect their footage too. It's all waiting for you."

"Much obliged," Jensen says, smiling and tipping an imaginary hat. "One more thing. Our mutual acquaintance mentioned something about new players in town?"

"Oh, love, there are always new players coming into town."

"Mmmm. There anyone I should be overly concerned about?"

Mark purses his lips and is silent long enough for Jensen to start to get antsy.

"There's a possibility," Mark says, "just a possibility, mind, that there's someone in the area who might, might, be able to give you a run for your money." Mark holds up both hands. "Allegedly.

"An assassin?"

Mark makes a wavy motion with one of his hands. "More like a... fixer, I suppose. I haven't heard any outright threats, but he and his lot have been disproportionately interested in the Padalecki organization. There have been..."

"Rumblings?" Jensen offers.

Mark's smile has more than a hint of smarm to it. "I'm sure it's nothing you won't be able to handle, of course."

"Of course," Jensen says. "This fixer got a name?"

"Oh, lots," Mark says. "Probably as many as you do."

Jensen nods. He kinda figured. "Right. Email me a list?"

"'Course." Mark grins. "Happy hunting."

_____________

Saldana is surprisingly easy to find - too easy to find. Jensen placed a quick call to Misha who made some calls of his own. Jensen only had to wait about half an hour before Misha called back with the requested information and an admonishment to be careful. Saldana had used her own name to rent a warehouse just outside an industrial zone. She was practically screaming 'come find me', and Jensen spends a good twenty minutes sitting a block away from her base debating with himself about calling in some backup.

His instincts tell him to go it alone, though, and Jensen always listens to his instincts.

He scopes the place, then sends a quick text message to Jared before he turns his phone off. He knows he'll probably get hell for it later, but any distraction, especially Jared's ringtone, could prove deadly.

The sun has set by the time Jensen decides to go in. There's a fire escape on the South side of the building, and, after checking for booby traps, he quickly and quietly scales it. Jensen peers inside the first window he comes to, and what he sees gives him pause.

There, sitting on a stool in the middle of the main floor, is Saldana. She has her eyes trained on one of the doors, and her hands are resting, palm down, on her thighs. She looks like she's waiting for something, or someone, but she doesn't appear to be armed. The only way she could be more of a target would be if her shirt had a giant bull's-eye on it.

"Great," Jensen mutters. He watches her for a few minutes, then he uses his elbow to break the glass he was looking through. Saldana flinches, but other than that, she doesn't move.

Jensen rolls his eyes and climbs through the window. The staircase is close by, and Jensen takes his time making his way down to the first floor. He's pretty sure how this is going to play out, even if he has no idea how it's going to end.

"I'm glad he sent you and not the sniper," Saldana says. She almost sounds bored, but Jensen can hear tension in her voice.

"Really?" Jensen asks. "Most people would prefer a bullet to the head rather than something long and drawn out."

She moves her head, slowly, until she's looking at Jensen over her shoulder. "True. But if my skull got perforated then we wouldn't be having this conversation, would we?"

Jensen ambles around the room until he's standing in front of Saldana. She tracks his every movement.

Jensen stares at her. She's pretty - beautiful, even - but there's a wildness in her eyes. Jensen's seen that expression before - prior to finding Jared he occasionally glimpsed it reflected in mirrors.

"You attacked some friends of mine," Jensen says.

"No," Saldana says, "that wasn't an attack."

Jensen raises an eyebrow. "Really? You incapacitated one, shot another-"

"If it had been an attack, I wouldn't have incapacitated beard-guy; I would have broken his neck. And I would have hit blondie in the chest instead of just grazing his arm." She raises an eyebrow of her own. "And you know it."

For a few long moments Jensen simply looks at her. She meets his gaze head on, chin raised, jaw set and defiant.

Finally Jensen says, "was that the same kind of audition you used to get into your old crew?"

"Didn't have to audition," Saldana says, shaking her head, "we all just kind of... came together."

"Until you fell apart."

Saldana's eyes flash, and Jensen watches her rein herself in. "Yeah," she grits out. "So, you know my story-"

"The gist of it."

"-And I know yours."

Jensen smiles. "I highly doubt that."

"I know enough," Saldana says. "I've been studying you for a while. You're an artist, and not a novice either." She gives him a disturbing grin. "I'm glad you started killing again. Our kind isn't meant to be tamed."

"Our kind? Studying me?" Jensen grimaces. He knows his actions over the past year, ever since he started taking a more active role in Jared's business, had garnered some attention, but he thought had been discrete. At least, to people not in the 'know'. "And, for your information, I was never tamed; I was just kind of... domesticated." He sniffs.

Saldana looks dubious.

"I've never killed for kicks," Jensen says, "only for money. And, an occasional bout of vengeance. Nowadays I only get dirty to defend my home or my family." Jensen inclines his head and stares hard at Saldana. "The family you went after."

"I made a point."

"You made them bleed."

For the first time Saldana looks truly uncomfortable. "That too." She swallows hard then raises her chin. "You gonna kill me, or consider my offer?"

"I don't recall any offer," Jensen says. "Posturing, yes. An offer, no."

"I want in. In the organization, on the team. You know I'd be an asset."

"Uh huh," Jensen says. "Our bonkers quota is already filled, thanks."

"I'm not crazy!" Saldana blinks a few times. "Okay, maybe a little. Or a lot. No more so than anyone else in our line of work." She leans forward on her stool. "The guys you have now, they're good, but they're not like us. And you can't be everywhere at once."

Jensen studies her. She's young, eager, unhinged... He can feel himself waffling.

Saldana bites at her bottom lip then says, "please. I liked being part of something. And when Zach and Chris left the rest of us tried to keep it together, but, like you said, it fell apart." Her shoulders slump. "Jesus, Karl even went back to New Zealand. Who the hell voluntarily goes back to New Zealand?"

"I've heard it's a lovely country," Jensen says absently. He lets out a deep breath, then sticks his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. "Okay, I'll talk to Jared. If he agrees, I'll get back to you."

"And if he doesn't?"

Jensen shrugs. "You'll never know." He starts walking backwards, towards the door. "One more thing, if I find out that this is all just part of some scam, I'll make sure you're conscious when I start cutting things off."

Saldana looks far too perky. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

_____________

"Seriously?" Jared asks, staring up at Jensen who's perched on the edge of his desk. "I mean... Seriously?!" He runs both hands through his hair. "Does she know how many resume builders there are online? She couldn't have, I don't know, emailed us or something?"

Jensen grimaces. "That's not exactly how people like us..." Jensen clears his throat. "Anyway, she's kind of nuts, which would actually work well around here."

Jared stares at him. "You're not suggesting we bring her in?! Dude, she-"

"I know what she did, Jared," Jensen says. "I also know she could have done a lot worse, and, that she has a point." Jensen sighs. He moves off of Jared's desk and starts to pace. "It's possible that my more blatant actions have done more harm than good. If I've garnered the wrong kind of attention, then-" Jensen turns and nearly runs into Jared's chest.

"Then we'll deal with it," Jared says, taking Jensen into his arms.

"Part of dealing with it may be hiring some new people." Jensen balances on his toes and kisses away the scowl that comes over Jared's face. "I'm not saying we move her into the mansion. I'm just saying that we utilize her skills from time to time."

Jared looks heavenward as his hands settle somewhere decidedly lower. When he brings his eyes back to Jensen's he hums, and smiles, and squeezes. "Yes, dear."

Jensen wriggles enough to smack him on the shoulder. "Ass. I'm trying to be serious."

"So am I," Jared protests. "If you think we need her, then we'll get her. On a trial basis," Jared adds quickly. "If she doesn't mesh with everybody then she's gone. And, you're gonna be the one to tell the guys."

Jensen frowns. "That'll be fun."

"That's the price to pay for your protégée ." Jared grins. "Ooh, rhyming and alliteration. I'm awesome!"

"You're something, all right," Jensen murmurs.

Jared nods brightly. "Yep. So, what was that about a winery?"

_____________

end

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From:

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This has got to be one of my favorite universes to read about. Smart, funny and (no pun intended) a killer storyline. Can't wait for more.

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Killer Romance Fic: Volatile 1/1

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