Killer Romance Comment Meme

[saone]

Happy 2nd Birthday, Killer Romance 'verse!

Yes, one of the crackiest things to have ever come out of my brain turns two today. To celebrate, give me a prompt, or just ask a question you've always wondered about. It might take a while, but I'll respond to everything with at least a drabble.



Don't make Jensen mad; you wouldn't like him when he's mad.


Jensen's first kill
Jared's used as leverage to get Jensen to do a job
Jensen disappears, leaving behind just a short voice mail message
Jensen's like a big, African cat, and Jared's like a gazelle. Or maybe a giraffe.
Jared to the rescue!
One time, in Amsterdam... (slight Jensen/Chris)
Chris gets a boo boo
Jensen gets jealous
Jensen gets jealous Part 2
Jensen meets an old 'friend'
Jensen's dad thinks his boy might be a little... 'off'
Jared tries to be stealthy
Jensen and Jared have a talk
Jensen thinks Jared's going to break up with him
Misha does not mingle well
Jared's high school reunion
Chad likes to live life on the edge

Comments

[maria9631.livejournal.com]

HOW DID JENSEN BECOME AN ASSASSIN?

[saone77.livejournal.com]

Jensen became an assassin through a long and arduous process that spanned half the globe and involved a surprising number of sword fights. But, if you're looking for his first kill...

Jensen holds onto the knife in his hand as he watches the man he had just stabbed drop to the pavement. The lights out on the street don't do much to illuminate the little alley he's in, but the blood on his hand, and pants, and shoes still looks shockingly red.

There's a noise and Jensen turns to the other occupent of the alley, the one that's not currently bleeding out. The one that Jensen had ventured off the street trying to save.

He's shorter than Jensen, with longish brown hair and a face that's been beat all to hell. The man sneezes and immediately cups a hand around what Jensen's pretty sure is a broken nose.

"Goddammit! Motherfuckin' shit!" He kicks at the body on the ground before he slumps back and lets the building behind him prop him up.

Jensen looks down at the knife. He should probably call the cops. He should definitely call the cops. This would be self-defense, right? The guy he dropped was going to kill the other one, Jensen knows it.

"Bud," the guy says, "don't flake out on me now." His voice is rough and nasely, but his eyes are bright. Too bright. "I might need some help with this."

With the hand not still holding the knife, Jensen fumbles for his phone. "I can call-"

"Hey! You're not calling anyone."

Jensen doesn't know how the guy manages to look half dead and completely menacing at the same time, but he pulls it off.

"Look," the guy says, "I will conceed that, maybe, I shouldn't have taken this job when I have a bit of a cold. Or the flu. Whatever. What's done is done. Now, I have a proposition for you."

Jensen wonders if he should be freaking out. He wonders if he's in shock, even though he doesn't feel like he's in shock. He feels kind of... normal. Actually, he feels kind of... good? "What kind of propsition?"

"You saved my life, man. I owe you. So, how about you help me get rid of the body, and I'll cut you in fifty-fifty." The man sneezes, and once again it's followed by a round of cursing.

"You were hired to kill him?" Jensen asks.

The man nods, then groans a bit and clutches at his forehead.

Jensen looks down at the knife again. The blood's starting to get a little sticky. "Seventy-thirty," Jensen says.

The guy stares at him. "Pardon?"

"Seventy-thirty," Jensen says again. "I think I'm being generious. After all, I'm the one who's doing most of the work here."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Eighty-twenty."

"What the acutal fuck?" The man shakes his head. "Did we not just establish that I'm a killer?"

"We did," Jensen says. He holds up the knife. "But I'm pretty sure this is yours, since I picked it up just a few feet away from here. And I don't think you're armed with anything else or you would have used it on him, and me. You need my help to get away from this cleanly. And, while I'll certainly listen to your expertise on how to get rid of a body, the fact still stands that I'm the one who's going to be doing the work, ergo, I should be the one to get most of the money." Jensen shrugs. "It just seems fair."

"Did you just use the word 'ergo' in a sentence?"

"It means-"

"I know what it means!" The man stares at Jensen. "You take sixty, and I'll promise to not come back here in a few months, track you down, and pull your intestines out while you're still breathing. How's that for fair?"

Jensen weighs his options. "I'll accept those terms. With one more condition."

"Aw, Christ. What?"

Jensen thinks about his life. He thinks about his family, and his new classes at college, and how he doesn't really have any friends because no one ever wants to meet his eyes. He thinks about the itching he sometimes gets under his skin, and about how it felt to slide a blade between a man's ribs and up into his lung.

He thinks there's always been something wrong with him, and, evidently, there's a market for that.

"So," Jensen says, "how do you feel about work/study?"

[gemini8.livejournal.com]

Jared gets arrested. The person who's got him (frame or real) agrees to let him go if Jensen does a job for him.

[saone77.livejournal.com]

Jensen's fairly certain that if he wasn't almost twitching with the desire to peel the skin off of Agent Whitfield's face, he'd probably want to buy the man a drink.

"I'm sorry," Jensen says, leaning against one of the concrete walls of the parking garage, "run that by me again?"

"I want you to kill someone for me," Whitfield says. There's a file in his right hand.

"Yeah, that's what I thought you said." It's not often that Jensen gets thrown for a loop, but he has to admit that he's more than a little surprised by this turn of events. Whitfield arresting Jared was unfortunately kind of par for the course. But Whitfield calling Jensen to set up a meeting in a parking garage to discuss a hit is a little too Twilight Zone for Jensen's comfort.

Whitfield lets out a gusty sigh. "Look, I'll do the whole song and dance if you want me to, but I'd much rather cut to the chase. I've got your boyfriend in custody, and I am fully prepared to use as much taxpayer money as I can to keep him buried."

"Whatever you try and charge him with isn't going to stick," Jensen says. "It never sticks because you never have anything."

"Maybe not," Whitfield admits. "But I've got a buddy at DHS who owes me a favor. Somehow I think helping me disappear a crime boss won't affect his conscious much." Whitfield grins. "Ah, that's got your attention, hasn't it?"

Jensen's fingers are starting to itch. He can't kill Whitfield here, though. Not yet.

Whitfield nods. "Yeah, you are one scary motherfucker, aren't you? I gotta admit, man, you had me snowed. Damn. It took me a while, to find your pattern - and you do have a pattern. And then it took me a little longer to realize that Padalecki hadn't hired any new talent. That the person who was so quickly and so efficiently running through his enemies was you."

"If you don't mind my asking," Jensen says, "how'd you figure it out?"

"I'm a Special Agent," Whitfield says. "It's my job."

Jensen inclines his head slightly. "All right, Special Agent. Who do you want me to kill?"

For the first time, Whitfield looks uncomfortable.

"Come one, Special Agent," Jensen says, "you're halfway there; don't punk out now."

Whitfield scowls and shoves the folder he's carrying towards Jensen. "Fuck you. Just because you're not the sickest bastard in the city doesn't mean you aren't headed straight to hell with the rest of them."

Jensen frowns, and when he opens the folder he sees what has Whitfield so uncharacteristically upset. "Jesus. This was your case?"

"I'm organized crime," Whitfield says. "The lead was my old partner, though. He's had to take a leave of absence. He just couldn't..." Whitfield glares at Jensen. "Look, you're a murderer, but you're not a monster. That," Whitfield says, pointing at the folder, "is a monster. And if he isn't stopped, then-"

"Yeah," Jensen says. "I get it." He shuts the folder and tucks it under his arm. "Any preferences on how you want it done?"

"Jesus." Whitfield scrubs a hand over his face. "However you get your rocks off, man."

"Okay." Jensen turns to walk away. He pauses after a few steps, and looks back. "Oh, and Special Agent, if you ever try and use Jared's life as a bargaining chip against me again, regardless of the reason, you'll see how much of a monster I can be." This time when he walks away, Jensen doesn't look back.

[maryjo24.livejournal.com]

Jensen disappears suddenly, leaving nothing but a short voice mail, "back in a few days."

[saone77.livejournal.com]

"I'm not worrying," Jared says.

"Okay," Jeff says before exchanging a glance with Idris.

"I'm not."

"We totally believe you, boss," Columbus says.

"I am the opposite of worrying. I am... I am... What's the opposite of worrying?"

"Uh," Chris tentatively raises his hand. "not worrying?"

"Exactly!" Jared says. "And that's what I am. Not worrying."

"I'm confused," Zoe says, looking around Jared's office, "are we supposed to be placating him or..."

Oscar shrugs.

"I mean," Jared says, "just because I'm in love with a complete jackass who's been gone for four days now, and no one knows where he is, and he's not answering his cell, and the last communication I got from him was a back in a few days, Jay, that's no reason to worry. Right? Right?!"

"Right."

"Yeah."

"Sure."

"Absolutely."

Oscar shrugs again.

"So, you are worrying?" Zoe asks. "I'm not sure what's going on."

"I know," Idris says, "human emotions are just so hard to decipher, aren't they?"

Zoe nods vehemently.

"Okay, you know what?" Jared says, "You guys aren't helping. Get out. Out!" Jared waits until the security team has filed out of the room before he picks up his phone.

An idea's been percolating in the back of his mind for a while now. It's a bad idea. A horrible idea. An idea that, if Jensen ever finds out about it, would probably lead to Jared breathing through a tube for a little while.

Still, if there's ever a question, Jared will be able to honestly say that Jensen brought it on himself.

"Hey, Wil," Jared says into his phone, "I'm going to need a subcutaneous tracker and some tranquilizer darts."

[bugmcsnug.livejournal.com]

Exciting! :-D

If it tickles your fancy I'd love Jensen play stalking (or maybe he's seriously stalking?!) Jared through the house like a cat and of course it ends in sex :-D

And I can't believe it's two years old already! :-D

[saone77.livejournal.com]

It's not that Jensen's stalking Jared.

Except he kind of is. But not like a creeper.

No, Jensen's stalking Jared like a cat.

Like a big, Savannah cat.

And Jared's a gazelle.

Or maybe a giraffe.

And Jensen's been spending most of his day hiding in shadows or up in the rafters - and how great is it for someone like Jensen to live in a house with rafters - silently tracking Jared's every move. He's been spotted a few times by various members of the security team, but that's okay because Jensen's just playing. Each time, Jensen's lifted a finger to his lips and winked.

Idris had rolled his eyes. Jeff had shaken his head fondly. Chris had given him two enthusiastic thumbs up.

Over the course of the day, Jensen watches as Jared becomes slightly agitated and almost pensive about something. A line develops between Jared's brows, and Jensen wants to know what put it there.

When the shadows cast by the light coming through the windows start to lengthen, Jared takes his cell out of his pocket. Those long, elegant fingers dance across the touchscreen, then he places the device up to his ear.

He waits, and a worried look comes over his face.

"Hey, Jen," Jared says. "Just wanted to check in. I haven't seen you all day. I... I miss you, and-"

Jensen pounces.

[big-heart-june.livejournal.com]

Ooooooh! you're awesome! my favourite boys! :D take your pick, I suck at prompting though!

The first time they had sex!

JEALOUS!JENSEN

Jensen gets kidnapped this time and Jared gets to save his boy.

[saone77.livejournal.com]

Jensen's nose itches.

He's tied to a chair in a small, dark, dank room. Blood's dripping into his left eye from a cut on his forehead, and there's more blood leaking from his lower lip. He's bruised, battered, and bound, and his nose really fucking itches.

The things he does for love.

Jensen scrunches his face in a variety of different ways. He tries blowing air up towards the maddening bit of skin.

It still itches.

Jensen slumps in his restraints. He doesn't know what's taking so long, but if Jared doesn't get here soon, Jensen's going to have to get himself out of this mess. And while that would be ridiculously easy to accomplish, it would also render this whole exercise moot. Jensen would have gotten captured and beaten up for nothing and that, that would piss him off.

But Jensen's nose really, really itches.

Jensen doesn't think this is a normal itch. He thinks it might be a super itch.

He also thinks he might have a head injury.

Whatever. He'll give Jared ten more minutes, and if he hasn't shown up by then, then he's obviously decided Jensen's not worth the effort. Or the tracker beneath the skin of Jensen's right shoulder blade - which Jensen totally knows about, thank you very much - is malfunctioning.

Jensen starts to count.

"Mississippi-one. Mississippi-two. Mississippi-three..."

Jensen loses track somewhere in the Mississippi-three-hundreds.

"Fuck it."

Just as Jensen's about to start seriously testing his restraints, there's a distant rumble and the room he's in shudders ever so slightly. They're either having an earthquake, or something just went BOOM.

Jensen smirks and settles back in the chair. It's about time.

It doesn't take long now. Luckily Jensen remember to smooth his face into something a little less smug before Jared comes through the door like a human battering ram.

He looks like he should be on the cover of a romance novel - not that Jensen's ever looked at romance novels. Jared's hair is flowing; his eyes are wild. There's a bandolier across his wide chest, a gun in one hand, and a wicked looking blade in the other.

Hot damn.

Jensen swoons a bit. He blames it on the concussion.

And best of all, while Jared looks almost stricken at the sight of Jensen and the state he's in, there's none of that horrible, mopey depression that Jared's been wearing like a second skin since the last time he talked to his parents.

Jensen's an awesome boyfriend.

"Christ!" Jared says. He rushes to Jensen. "Jen? Baby? Oh, God."

Jensen allows Jared to gently paw at him, checking out his injuries. More than once, he feels Jared's fingers press against the pulse point in his neck.

"Hey," Jensen says, "get this crap off me."

Jared complies. As soon as Jensen's arms are free, he ignores his screaming muscles and finally, finally scratches his goddamned nose.

Talk about torture.

Jensen's only unrestrained for about half a second before Jared's arms wrap around him. "I've got you," he says into Jensen's hair. "I've got you."

As if there was any doubt. Well, as if there was much of any doubt. Jensen's blaming that slight lapse on the concussion too.

Jensen lets his head rest on Jared's shoulder and listens to the sounds of distant screams.

"I told Jeff and the others to make sure they left some alive," Jared says. "I thought you might like to play later.

Jensen grins. "My hero."

[ladydey.livejournal.com]

Opening my favorite 'verse to questions -- heee! First, Congrats on two years of crazy, who would have thought?!?

Questions/Prompts:

1. We know that Jensen didn't have a lot of friends before Jared and his crew, but I assume he had/has one or two . . . one maybe a slightly reformed Hitter currently working out of Portland, late of Boston, who comes for a visit.



2. So I was reading over the whole series - as I do - I came across the following from Still Better Than Chocolate (http://saone77.livejournal.com/156908.html#cutid1):

"What?" Chris chuckles. "Oh, no, I'm not his... Well, I am on his exception list, which I'm totally cool with now, by the way, Oh, and there was that one time in Amsterdam, but there were major extenuating circumstances in that case, and we kind of had to do some things that were... see, there was this guy who was trying to..." Chris clears his throat. "But his actual boyfriend was totally cool with it. I think. Hasn't killed me yet." He looks back and forth between the slightly shell-shocked expression on the woman's face, and the murderous one on Jensen's. "TMI?"

So tell me about that time in Amsterdam. . . .



3. So there are other organizations that Jensen has worked with - has one of them ever tried to blackmail Jared with Jensen's past?

One Time, in Amsterdam... 1/2

[saone77.livejournal.com]

Wow, this turned out a little darker and a lot longer than I thought it would.




"Mr. Evans, do you think me a fool?"

Chris can hear various curses coming through his earbud, but they pale compared to the words ricocheting around his skull. He knew, fucking knew this was going to go pear-shaped.

"Of course not, Mr. Weaving," Chris says. He keeps his voice as steady as he can. Not that that will probably make much difference. Chris has never been that good at subterfuge, and if Weaving's onto him, then the game's really already over.

Weaving leans back into the leather couch he's sitting on. He smiles, and Chris feels fear skitter up his spine. There are serious-faced, black suited men positioned on either side of the couch and on either side of the chair Chris is sitting in. Even if he could somehow make it past them - doubtful - Chris spotted other similarly attired people when he entered club.

He's never going to make it out.

Weaving picks up his drink and studies the liquid for a moment before he takes a drink. "When my employer first got wind of a possible mole in Padalecki's organization, do you think that I did not do my research?"

Chris can hear Jeff's voice telling him to stay cool. Help's coming. Stay cool. Well, help may be coming, but it's not going to get here in time. They had to set up their base too far away, and traffic at this time of evening is a nightmare.

"Research, Mr. Weaving?" Chris asks.

"Yes. Research. On all of Padalecki's little underlings."

Columbus has taken over the comms now. Chris wonders if he should at least try and take Weaving out while he has the chance. Really, listening to him monologue is just going to prolong the inevatble.

"I was, naturally, suspicious at such an opportunity simply falling into our lap," Weaving says. "So I decided to figure out which one of Padalecki's inner circle would be most likely to betray him."

The voices in Chris' ear are turning frantic, and he kind of wishes they'd just shut up. False hope isn't anybody's friend. Even if they reach the club. Even if they get it. It's still going to be a bloodbath.

"The first name on my list was Mr. Elba."

Chris wants to laugh. It was supposed to be Idris here tonight. But he had had a craving for sushi and had spent the previous night and a good part of the morning moaning wretchedly into the toilet. Columbus is worse at grifting than Chris is, and Oscar can lie to save his life - which is why in the nearly constant presence of thieves and murderers, he stays so taciturn - so Chris got the short straw.

"Your name, Mr. Evans, was quite low on my list." Weaving smiles again. It's creepy.

"And this list of yours is infalliable, is it?" Chris asks.

Weaving laughs. It's extra creepy. "Infallible? No. Accurate? Hmmm... I think so." Weaving straightens slightly and looks Chris straight in the eye. It's extra creepy with special sauce.

"You, Mr. Evans, are like a Golden Retriever. Loyal. Steadfast. Charming. And not all that bright." Weaving's eyes narrow. "I wonder, though, how you'll do on the end of my leash."

Oh, fuck that shit. Chris would rather lie down on a grenade before he let himself get taken someplace by these assholes.

"You seem pretty sure of yourself, Mr. Weaving," Chris says.

"Oh, I am," Weaving says. "But, for argument's sake, give me one good reason why you would betray, not just Padalecki, but the other members of your team." Weaving shake his head. "I've always scoffed at how Padalecki runs his organization, but you lot truly do think of yourself as a family, don't you? So, tell me, what exactly could cause you to turn on your brothers?"

Chris takes a deep breath and tries to center himself. He doesn't know if he's going to be able to kill Weaving before he's put down, but he'll do his damnedest to inflict as much damage as possible. But before Chris can start to tense his muscles, a voice comes from behind him.

"Me."

[kellifer-fic.livejournal.com]

More of the security crew? What does Jared and Jensen and the others do when someone like Chris gets hurt?

1/2

[saone77.livejournal.com]

It's an accident. Chris can't even blame the Serbian hit squad they were going after. Though, he hopes that if the rebar had pierced his stomach or chest rather than just his leg, the cause of his death would have been amended just a bit.

Dying in the heat of battle is fine. Dying because you accidentally step through a rotten board, fall ten feet, and get impaled on some random debris is kind of sad.

Chris has managed to prop himself up on his elbows. He's staring at his leg and its new metal accessory, and the steadily growing blood stain that's darkening his pants and the ground beneath him. He's a little worried that the pain hasn't set in yet, but he knows that once the pain does set in he's probably going to cry.

"Sound off," Jeff says into his ear. Chris hears the other members of the security team acknowledge Jeff's order in some way. He tries to talk, but for some reason nothing more than a croak comes out.

"Evans?" Jeff says. "Evans?! Fuck! Does anyone have visual on Evans?" Chris hears a lot of very worried negatives.

He clears his throat and tries to speak again. "Guys..." he says weakly. A flurry of voices assault his ear. "Guys, I think... I think I'm in trouble..."

The pain finally hits - holy fucking CHRIST - and Chris wants to pass out. He needs to pass out. But there's blood - a lot of blood - and something's telling Chris that he should stay awake. He should try and tell everyone where he is. He should keep his eyes open. He should... He should... He...

_____________


Chris wakes up and he knows he's on the good drugs. He feels floaty. It's nice.

He stares up at the simple tile ceiling and blinks a few times. His eyelids work. That's good. The eyeballs work too. He rolls them around, trying to scope out as much as he can without actually moving his head.

He thinks his head works, but he also thinks that if he tries to move it, he might throw up. Which would be bad. And messy.

He wants to know what's going on, though. And he's thirsty. He opens his mouth - another thing that still works - and, while he's pretty sure no real words come out, the sound he makes is enough to get someone's attention.

The attention of a lot of someones, as it turns out.

Chris closes his eyes against the bombardment of worried faces, and worried voices, and just worry that surrounds his bed.

He's in a bed.

That's nice.

It's a hospital bed.

That's not so nice.

"Give him space," Oscar says, his voice uncharacteristically stern.

Chris can feel everyone back off. He opens his eyes again. The only one in his immediate field of vision is Oscar. Blessed Oscar, he of the cup of ice chips.

Chris opens his mouth, and lets Oscar spoon feed him frozen water, and he immediately feels about a hundred times better. That must be some awesome ice.

And drugs. Awesome drugs.

"Don't ever, and I mean ever, do that again, you hear me?" Columbus says from somewhere down by Chris' feet.

"Okay," Chris agrees easily, though his voice is still rough. "Uh, what did I do?"

"Nearly gave us all fucking heart attacks," Idris says. "And, considering Jeff's age, I'm only half joking."

"Thank you, Idris," Jeff says.

Chris licks his lips. "What-"

"You fell," Zoe says. "Onto something sharp. That was stupid of you."

"I..." Chris grimaces as his nice, drug-induced floatiness clears some and things start coming back to him. "Ah, fuck me."

[cattraine.livejournal.com]

Jared's ex-girlfriend (and totally oblivious to his job) Genevieve shows up for a visit. Jensen is horribly jealous (and thinks he is being chill about it). The security crew's new priority job is to keep her alive until she leaves. Even if they have to drink the poisoned sangria or trip the booby traps on the stairs and in the pool themselves.

[saone77.livejournal.com]

"All right," Jeff says, rubbing a tired hand over his face, "Oscar has eyes on Jensen; everyone else, report."

"Trip wire on the stairs," Columbus says.

"Incendiary device under the toilet," Idris says.

"Brown recluse in the shower head," Zoe says.

"Where the hell did he find one of those?!" Chris asks before scratching at a sudden skittering sensation on the back of his neck.

"Who the hell knows," Jeff says. "They probably spring fully-formed from the back of his head or something."

"Can we revisit the option of sedating him?" Idris asks. "Just until she leaves?"

"Oh, sure, Idris," Jeff says. "You get right on that. And then, if you're still alive and functioning, you can explain all this to Jared."

"Maybe..." Columbus twists his face into a grimace. "Hell, maybe someone should explain this to Jared. I mean, I love the guy, don't get me wrong, but inviting your old high school girlfriend to spend a couple weeks at your house when the person currently sharing your bed used to kill people for a living, well, that's just stupid."

"But who knew Jensen is the jealous type?" Jeff asks.

"Especially of someone who Jared hadn't seen in over ten years," Chris says.

"It's..." Zoe sighs. "When you spend your time alone, like most assassins do, and then you're not alone, receiving attention and affection can be... heady. Good. Addictive." She clears her throat and smooths her already pulled back hair. "Jealously is based in fear."

Jeff's nodding slowly. "Jensen's used to coming first in Jared's life," he says.

"But Jared's been too busy playing catch-up with the prom queen to give Jensen the attention he's used to," Idris continues.

"So he started to perceive Cortese as a threat," Columbus finishes. "And we all know what he does to threats."

"Well, that's just great," Chris says. "How are we supposed to convince Jensen's that he's being an idiot?"

"We probably shouldn't actually use the term idiot," Jeff says.

"I nominate Chris," Idris says. "Jensen is less likely to permanently injure him."

"Hey." Chris says.

"I second that," Zoe says.

"Hey!"

"Third," Columbus says.

"Hey!"

"Motion carried," Jeff says. He shrugs. "Sorry, kid."

Chris folds his arms over his chest. "Oh, my God. You guys suck."

"Just give him the puppy eyes," Columbus says. "You'll be fine."

Chris is about to grouse some more when Jeff's cell rings.

"Hello? Oh, hey, Oscar," Jeff says. He listens for a moment. "Wait, what?" A look of alarm comes over Jeff's face. "Where the fuck did he get a crossbow?! Oh, hell. Yeah, yeah, we'll be there." Jeff ends the call. "Dammit." He runs his hand over his face again. "I am getting way too old for this shit."

Zoe pats him on the arm.

"When's Cortese leaving again?" Columbus asks.

"Five days," Idris says.

Jeff shakes his head. "God help us. God help us all."

[think4paperinkw.livejournal.com]

Ahem....jealous.jensen. Please? :)

[saone77.livejournal.com]

Jealous Jensen turned out to be really hard to write because he doesn't process emotions the way normal people do. So, I thought, what if he didn't even realize he was jealous...

This is a companion piece to the fill above.



Jensen doesn't know how long he stands there blinking at Chris like an idiot and trying to process the words he had just heard. Finally, he shakes himself, and sputters, and says, "I am not!"

Chris gives him a disturbingly sympathetic look. "Yeah, you are."

"I don't get jealous, Chris. I just don't. That's not how I'm wired."

"Uh huh. Then why are you trying to kill Jared's old girlfriend?"

"I'm not-"

"What are you going to do with the crossbow, Jensen?"

Jensen glances down at the weapon in his hands. "Uh... Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"That's right. Nothing."

Chris sighs. "Look, I get it. Really, I do. If the guy I was in love with invited his old flame to stay at our house for a couple of weeks, without asking me first... Good God, I would tear the place down. But Jared and Cortese dated back in high school, man. They haven't even seen each other for over a decade!"

"I know," Jensen snaps. "I'm aware of their history. And it's not like I think anything's going to happen. Jared's not gonna cheat on me or anything. His self-preservation instincts are way too high. Plus, I think she's happily married to a dentist or something. Or was it a dermatologist?" Jensen frowns. "It might have been a podiatrist. I wasn't paying that much attention."

"Okay," Chris says, "you don't think anything's going to happen between them?"

"That's what I just said, isn't it?"

"Then let me ask again, why are you trying to kill her?"

"I'm... Jensen has his lips ready to form a denial when it hits him. "Huh."

"What?"

"Well, that's..." Jensen frowns. "Oh." Jensen's frown deepens. "Oh."

Chris is trying to keep a hold on his panic, but Jensen's looking decidedly evil at the moment. "Oh, what?"

"First of all," Jensen says, "I haven't been trying to kill Genevieve. I've never tried to kill anyone in my life. If I wanted her dead, she would be dead."

"Ah," Chris says. "That's disturbing."

"Secondly, I think I may be acting out some feelings of rage concerning Jared."

"Oh," Chris says. "So, your target wasn't really Cortese?"

"I can't hurt Jared," Jensen says, "not really. I can hurt people adjacent to him, though."

"That's healthy."

"I think maybe Jay and I need to have a long talk," Jensen says.

"That's great," Chris says. "Well, that probably won't be so great for Jared, but, whatever. So, does this mean you're going to stop leaving booby traps all over the house now?"

"No more booby traps," Jensen says. "I promise."

Chris decides to ignore the hand Jensen's holding behind his back.

[xcziel.livejournal.com]

Jared and Jensen run into an old high school/college frenemy of Jensen's who's now very successful (for a certain value of success) and who thinks that Jensen is nothing more than Jared's idle trophy boyfriend. Hints are made that Jensen should have stuck with his original college major.

Or,

Jensen takes a hit to the head and gets temporary amnesia. He knows he and Jared are together, and thinks that the team are their bodyguards. Cue Jensen attempting to be a proper "hostess" to the guys (overseeing the house staff, checking on everyone's 'comfort', etc.) and a loving boyfriend to Jared. And not understanding why everyone is terrified when he's just trying to be pleasant.

[saone77.livejournal.com]

"Jen, I'd like you to meet-"

"Oh, my God! Jensen? Jensen Ackles?!"

Jensen feels his eyes widen just a fraction as he glances back and forth between Jared and a face he hadn't seen in about fifteen years. "Uh, yeah, it's me. Hey, Scott."

"You two know each other?" Jared asks. He's got one eyebrow quirked and a pleasant enough expression on his face. But Jensen's been reading Jared for years, and there's a hint of concern there as well.

"We went to high school together back in Texas," Scott says. He's got a wide grin on his face showing off ridiculously white and unnaturally even teeth. "And now, all these years later, we're at the same function in LA. That's crazy, right?"

"Yep," Jensen says. He snags a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. "Crazy."

Jared's looking like he can't decide if this is Christmas or somebody's funeral. "High school, huh?" His eyes dart back and forth between Jensen and Scott. Jensen can practically see the questions trying to bubble out of him.

"Oh, yeah," Scott says. "We lost touch afterwards, but I guess that's what happens, right?"

Jensen wants to say that they were never really friends to begin with, but he keeps his mouth shut and plasters on one of his most pleasant faux smiles. "Right."

"We should get together for lunch one day and talk shop," Scott says. "I mean, I assume that's why Jared was bringing me over here to meet you. What do you do in his organization?"

"Uh..." The face of Jared's company is all above board and acts as a nice little smokescreen hiding the myriad of illegal activities that actually fund it. Jensen doesn't know what Scott's involvement is, or how much the truth may need to be tweaked.

Jared puts a possessive arm around Jensen's shoulders. "He's my boyfriend," he says, proud as ever.

Jensen had long ago trained himself to not roll his eyes.

A strange look passes over Scott's face. "Boyfriend? I see. So, what is it that you do?"

"I just told you," Jared says, "he's my boyfriend."

The arm around Jensen's shoulders tightens ever so slightly. Jensen starts to feel the urge to hit someone.

"Oh," Scott says. "You don't work, then? Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course." The tone of his voice sets Jensen's teeth on edge.

"Jensen doesn't have to work," Jared says.

It's not like Jensen didn't know what kind of a role he would be playing at tonight's party. Those who know who and what he really is, know. Those who don't, don't. And normally Jensen doesn't mind playing the part of the vain and vapid kept boy.

Now, though, it grates. It grates hard.

"Oh," Scott says again, judgement written plain and clear on his overly tan face. "That's good, I suppose. I mean, being voted best-looking for the yearbook can only get you so far. And I heard that you dropped out of college, so I'm glad you managed to find something to keep you on your feet." Scott's smile is so horribly smarmy and knowing that the only thing keeping Jensen from tearing off his stupid face is the increasing pressure Jared's putting on his shoulders.

"I think you've misunderstood the situation," Jared says with a subtle tightness to his voice. "Jensen's retired."

"Retired from?" Scott asks.

"Headhunting," Jared says, straight-faced.

Jensen could kiss him. And he will, later. Lots.

"Well," Jared says, "I say retired, but he still does the occasional job for me, though. There's no one I trust more to handle a delicate situation. In fact, maybe you'll get to see how he works someday."

"I think I'll really enjoy that," Scott says with a wink.

Jensen feels his lips curl up into a real smile, his first one of the conversation. "Not as much as I will."

[tygrrlyli.livejournal.com]

The first time Jensen's dad realized his son might be Dexter.

OR

The first time Jensen's dad realized he was on a case and Jensen was the culprit.

[saone77.livejournal.com]

So, this turned out different than I thought it would... And now I will forever think of Jensen's dad as James Remar. ;)

Warnings for the death of an animal (not caused by Jensen).


Alan's always kept an eye out for missing pets. It's not something he conciously thinks about, but when he catches himself doing it there's only a moment of guilt and shame before he accepts the poisionous little doubt that's been hiding in his brain for years.

There's something wrong with Jensen.

Alan doesn't bring it up to anyone else. He doesn't dare. It's just a feeling, after all. It's not like he has anyhing he can point to and say, 'gee, my middle child's a psycho, does the mental hospital take our insurance?'

And it could all be in his head. He could be imagining the hard look Jensen sometimes gets in his eyes, or the calculating way he studies the people around him.

Jensen's charming and sweet. His ears and eyes are a little too big for his face and they, along with his hated freckles, lend him an air of innocence not often found in boys nearing their teen years. He's a perfectly lovely child.

Probably.

But Alan still checks for missing pets.

Then, one day Alan comes home from work to find Jensen crouched over somehing furry on he sidewalk. Alan feels his stomach drop when he realizes it's one of the neighbor's cats. He thinks he's going to be sick, but there's this odd sense of finally inside him. He was right; now he can get Jensen help, and they can move on.

He gets out of his car, but before he can say anything, Jensen lifts his face, and Alan thinks he may have been horribly wrong. Jensen looks crushed, his face wet with tears. The story comes out in bits and pieces between sobs. One of the neighbors down the street, Jenkins, had run the poor thing over. He hadn't even stopped.

Jensen had tried to help, but it was far too late. He moved the animal from the road so it wouldn't get hit again. He wanted to know how someone could do something like that to an innocent animal, and how they could just keep going.

Alan, in his good, work pants, gets down on the ground and wraps his child in the tightest hug he can manage.

Later that night, after the children are in bed, he and Donna sit in their kitchen and talk about what happened. They talk about how Jenkins is a menace and a drunk. How it could have been a child in the street instead of that cat. How they can't do a damn thing to stop him until the man actually hurts someone.

While he and Donna are talking, Alan thinks he sees a shadow move by the kitchen door. When he blinks and looks again, and it's gone. He doesn't think anything more of it.

The next night someone slashes all four of Jenkin's tires. When he discovers the act of vandalism, he flys into a rage. He attackes one of the other people who live on the block. The police are called. He attackes them too.

They take him down. Hard.

Alan's in his driveway, but he's not watching the excitement down the block. He's watching Jensen. Jensen, who's looking decidedly pleased about the whole situation. In fact, Alan would almost say that he's looking... smug.

Alan doesn't ask. He doesn't even consider asking.

But he does stop checking for missing pets.

[gemini8.livejournal.com]

So perfect!!!!! So perfect!!!!!!
Thank you, thank you, thank you!

[dugindeep.livejournal.com]

Just to turn the tables - Jared tries to prove to Jensen that he can be as stealthy as Jensen is, but obviously fails miserably.

[saone77.livejournal.com]

Jared may not be some ninja-like, ex-assassin badass, but he is the very deadly and dangerous head of an incredible successful crime organization. He has skills.

Just, you know, stealth isn't really one of them.

"Jay," Jensen calls out, his voice loud and clear even though he's on the other side of the door, "why are you in the closet?"

"Uh, I'm not." Jared winces and thinks about smothering himself in one of the jackets hanging by his head.

"Okay," Jensen says after a moment's pause. "Should I be concerned? I'm really not sure... Do you want me to get someone else, or-"

"No!" Jared yelps. "No. It's okay. It's fine. I'm fine."

"Are you going to come out?"

"In a little bit," Jared says. Maybe once he's sure his face isn't roughly the same color as a stop sign. And, really, what the hell was he thinking? "It's actually kind of nice in here. It's quiet." This time Jared does push his face into one of the jackets.

"Okay," Jensen says slowly. "Is it all right if I come in, then?"

"Mmmphhh," Jared says, his mouth full of some kind of cotton blend.

The closet door opens just enough for Jensen to slip inside. Jared closes his eyes against the light from the hallway, then keeps them closed even after Jensen shuts the door.

"So..." Jensen's standing close enough that Jared can feel his breath ghost past his cheek. "Part of me is worried," Jensen says, "and part of me wants to make inappropriate jokes, and all of me is very confused."

Jared sighs. "You love me, right?"

"I believe the correct response to that is 'duh'," Jensen says.

"Even when I'm being kind of an idiot."

"Again, duh."

Jared winces. "I was going to surprise you."

"With... what... exactly..."

"With me," Jared says. "I was going to sneak up on you, and grab you, and then, you know, sexy times."

"Oh," Jensen says. "Yeah, if you had done that, I would have been very surprised. And then, after I instinctively crushed your trachea, I'm sure I would have been mostly devastated."

"Admittedly, I did not fully think this through." Jared blinks. "Wait, what do you mean, mostly devastated?"

"Well, you would have had it coming," Jensen says, ever practical. "Who the hell tries to sneak up on an ex-assassin?"

Jared slumps miserably into what he thinks might be the parkas from the last time they went skiing. His misery abates somewhat as Jensen presses himself close. Jared feels fingers brush against his stomach. A few seconds later his belt buckle comes undone.

"You know," Jensen says, his lips hot against Jared's cheek, "it is kind of nice in here."

It's not exactly how Jared had envisioned spending the afternoon, but he's really not going to complain, even thought they end up having to get the parkas dry cleaned.

[cookiemom6067.livejournal.com]

I love Chris's thumbs up-this is adorable.

[proserpine-1982.livejournal.com]

Would Jared ever let Jensen top? I'm thinking - saying no to Jensen; kind of like playing with matches in a puddle of gasoline or...?

[saone77.livejournal.com]

So this turned into a relationship talk... I don't even know...


"It's not that I'm opposed to us trying new things in the bedroom, Jen."

"Uh huh."

"It's just that, you know, I just..."

"Go on."

"I'm just... If it ain't broke, why fix it, right?"

"If... it's not... broke..."

"Exactly! I mean, our sex life is awesome, right? I mean, it... it is, right?"

"It's okay."

"See, it's... Wait. What do you mean, 'okay'?"

"Well, we have been together for a while, Jay."

"Wha... Are you not happy, Jen? Oh, my God, are you bored with our sex life?"

"You mean us doing the exact same thing? Night after night? No, how could I possbily find that boring?"

"Yeah, sarcasm really adds to a conversation."

"He said sarcastically."

"Oh, whatever. Look, do you... Do you want to break up with me, or something?"

"For the love of... I am not even going to dignify that with a response. Or, no, wait, yes I am. Don't be stupid, Jay! Jesus!"

"Well, I don't know! You said we were boring!"

"Jared... Is our entire relationship built solely on sex?"

"Of course not! I love you."

"Yeah, and I love you too, dumbass. But just because we love each other doesn't mean that we haven't gotten stuck in a rut. It happens in long term relationships. There are all these articles about... Um.... Yeah."

"Jensen?"

"Hmmm?"

"What have you been reading?"

"What? Just... magazines."

"What kind of magazines?"

"You know, the... monthly kind."

"Cosmo?"

"Oh, Jesus."

"Ladies Home Journal?"

"Jared, I swear to God..."

"Martha Stewart Living?"

"First of all, that's just got recipies and deocrating tips... Not that I've ever looked through one."

"Oh, Jensen... Oh, baby, I'm so sorry. I've been neglecting you, haven't I? I promise, I will find someone for you to kill as soon as I can, okay?"

"That's not... Actually, yeah, I'd kind of apprecaite that, thanks. But that still doesn't change the fact that we're in a-"

"Don't say rut again."

"Rut."

"Dammit, Jen. Fine. If it would really make you feel better if we switched, then-"

"It's not about that, it's... Jay, we're in this for the long haul. I'm planning on spending the next five decades with you, at least. And, during those fifty plus years, there will be time when we will need to, you know, spice things up a little bit. That doesn't mean we're not amazing together; it just means we're human."

"Oh. I see. You're human?"

"What the... Shut up."

"Make me."

"You know, Jared, you-"

"No. Jen. Babe. Make me."

"Oh. Oh."

"Yeah."

"Awesome."

are we breaking up?

[proffesorx.livejournal.com]

I'd actually like to see a chapter where jensen thinks jared is either a) cheating on him and about to do something about that, or b) getting ready to break up with him.

1/2 Re: are we breaking up?

[saone77.livejournal.com]

This is set sometime during their first year together before Jared managed to successfully hammer the whole 'love' thing through Jensen's thick skull.


Jensen knows he's not exactly the easiest person to get along with. Even discounting the whole borderline (eh, maybe) sociopathic, 'hired killer' thing, he's still kind of...

Prickly.

And grumpy.

And overall not that pleasant to be around.

Sometimes.

Most times.

Which is why, if he's being honest with himself, he didn't mind playing the role of the trophy boyfriend when Jared asked him to keep his real identity hidden from everyone, especially his Chief of Security.

Jared worries about Jeff's blood pressure. Jensen thinks it's kind of stupid, or heartwarming, depending on his general level of annoyance at the time he thinks about it.

But Trophy Boyfriend Malibu Jensen (complete with pool-side accessories, speedo optional) is a joy to be around! He's funny, and polite, and sweet as his mamma's brown sugar pie, and just overall a lovely, lovely person.

Being Trophy Boyfriend Jensen is exhausting. All that preening, and posing, and smiling.

Ugh.

But still, he does it; he plays his part. Because regular Jensen has a horrible, sneaking suspicion that Jared really, really likes Trophy Boyfriend Jensen. And Jensen has come to really, really like Jared.

Jensen is starting to find himself getting jealous of one of his own personas.

That can't be healthy.

So it's really no surprise - to regular Jensen, anyway - when everything comes to a head one night.

They're in their private living room when Jared says something innocent and completely irrelevant to the story besides the little fact that said innocent statement does a little jig all over what turns out to be Jensen's last nerve.

Jensen had no idea he was down to his last nerve, but once that last nerve was nothing but a bloody, twisting stump everyone was aware of it.

When Jensen comes back to himself he's standing up, panting, and clenching his, thankfully, blood-free fists. He feels drained, like he's just undergone some grueling and horrific physical trial even though he's barely three feet from the couch.

And, unfortunately, judging from the way the security team burst through the door, weapons out and eyes wide, the real grueling and horrifically physical part of the evening might be about to begin.

Jensen looks over to Jared, who's still sitting on the couch and looking almost comically shell shocked.

When Jensen opens his mouth, he's not exactly sure what he's going to say, but he certainly doesn't expect a rather shrill "Are you breaking up with me?" to come out of it.

"What?!" Jared yelps.

Jeff holsters his gun and glares at his boss. "What the hell did you do?"

"What?! Nothing!" Jared quickly glances between Jeff and Jensen. "I didn't... What?!"

"'Cause if you want me gone, I'll go." Jensen also didn't mean to say that.

"I don't even know what's going on," Jared says plaintively.

Jeff snorts and ushers the rest of the team - all scowling at Jared now too - out of the room. "Fix it!" he hisses to Jared just before he closes the door.

Jared opens and closes his mouth a few times, then he slowly gets up from the couch. He holds his hands out, palms down, and takes a few steps towards Jensen.

"Jen," he says, "talk to me. Tell me what the hell is going on."

Jensen's still tired, but he's also feeling wild and slightly unhinged. It's not the best combination. "I know you like him more than you like me."

Jared blinks. "Him who?"

"The other me!"

Jared pulls back just a bit. "Uh, there's only one you, Jensen. Unless you have an evil twin. An eviler twin. Oh, God, do you have an eviler twin?"

"What?" Jensen scoffs. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Oh, yeah, 'cause I'm the one being ridiculous right now."

Jensen puts his hands on his hips and glares. Jared blanches and takes a couple of steps backwards.

Oh, yeah, he's still got it.

"I know you like the Jensen you get out there better than the Jensen you get in here," Jensen says.

Jared cocks his head to one side. Jensen can almost see the gears turning, and then the little light bulb that pops up when he's done.

[dracodion.livejournal.com]

I would love a fic with more interaction with Misha. I love that you added him to the series but I want more! Plz :)

Misha is a Special Agent, not a Special Mingler 1/2

[saone77.livejournal.com]

I'm so sorry this took so long! Getting Misha's tone right seemed to take forever. :/




As Misha stands on the terrace and looks out at the vast array of criminals milling around the back lawn of the Padalecki estate, he wonders just how many brownie points he could get if he flipped again and went to the DA with everything he knows.

Then he wonders if there are any hot dogs left.

Then he wonders if anyone else sees that cloud shaped like a goldfish.

"You know," Jensen says, coming to stand by Misha's right shoulder, "when you get that look on your face I can never tell if you're contemplating world domination or trying to remember what you had for dinner two nights ago."

Misha blinks at him. "You're assuming those two things are mutually exclusive."

Jensen grins and rests his hand on Misha's shoulder. Like Misha's his friend. Misha still sometimes has trouble computing that.

"Seriously, though," Jensen says, "you standing up here and staring down at everybody else is starting to freak some people out. And, as hilarious as that may be, if anyone leaves the party early Jared will pout, and I really hate it when Jared pouts."

The hand on Misha's shoulder tightens just a bit. Just enough.

Misha clears his throat. "For the record, I haven't been up here just staring at everyone else. I've also been looking at clouds."

Jensen looks up. "Huh. A goldfish."

"Thank you," Misha says solemnly.

Jensen grins and gives his shoulder another little squeeze. "Mingle. I mean it."

Mingle. Misha can mingle. Misha is a highly trained Special Agent of the United States Government; he can freakin' mingle.

_____________


Mingling is hard.

____________


"Maybe you should just try being yourself," Evans says to him some time later after Misha had tried making the rounds.

"I was being myself," Misha says.

"Oh. Then maybe you should try being someone else." Evans yelps theatrically as Short's hand cuffs the back of his head.

"Chris!"

"What?!"

Misha sighs. "No, it's a valid suggestion. But one of my instructors at Quantico once told me that I should never compromise who I am at my core just to make the people around me feel better."

"He sounds like a pretty cool dude," Morgan says.

"For a Fed," Elba adds.

"Yes," Misha says. "Of course, he also believed that aliens abducted his little sister and those same aliens will eventually end up enslaving or eradicating the human race." Misha takes note of the many blinking eyes around him. "Did I overshare?"

"Little bit," Short said. "Little, tiny bit."

___________________


"Misha?"

"Yes, Jensen?"

"Why are you hiding in the bushes?"

Misha looks around at what he thought was his impenetrable, foliage fortress. He sighs and stands up. "I was trying to avoid you," he says, brushing dirt off his pants.

Jensen looks lost. "Uh... Okay?"

Misha sighs again. This time he puts some oomph into it. "I tried mingling. It didn't turn out so well."

"Yeah," Jensen says, "I heard. Did you really tell Mike that you guys have his sister under surveillance?"

"We have some lovely long-distance footage of her wedding," Misha says. "I thought he might be interested in a copy."

"Uh huh." Jensen tugs at the sleeve of Misha's shirt until he's fully extracted from the bushes, then he puts an arm around Misha's shoulders and starts to steer him back towards the house.

"Do you know why I like you, Misha?" Jensen asks.

"Because I feed you information?"

"Besides that."

"No clue."

"I like you," Jensen says, "because you are even more socially awkward than I am."

[ferrous-wheeler.livejournal.com]

I was trying desperately to come up with a prompt but there are so many wonderful ones here that I can let my mushy brain cells rest ;p Love this 'verse and your ficlets!

[grrlgamer.livejournal.com]

How about Jared receives invite to his class reunion and really wants to go. Silly Jensen hijinks as he tries to "blend in" with Jared's former class mates.

[saone77.livejournal.com]

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Jared asks as they walk through the plush hotel lobby. He's holding a heavy, cream colored envelope in one hand and his other hand is pressed firmly against Jensen's lower back.

"Of course." Jensen says, automatically taking note of the exits and the various people around them.

"Uh huh." Jared gives him a sidelong glance. "You're wearing your 'I'm-about-to-horribly-murder-everyone-in-the-general vicinity' smile."

"No, I'm not," Jensen says. "I'm wearing my 'ask-me-how-normal-I-am-because-I'm-complete-normal' smile." Jensen reaches up to touch the skin around his mouth. "Aren't I?"

"Jen." Jared uses the hand against Jensen's back to direct him into a little alcove. "We don't have to do this."

Jensen rolls his eyes. "Oh, for... Of course we have to do this, Jared. We're here, aren't we? We got on a plane, we came back to Texas - God, do you know how long it's been since I've set foot in Texas?"

"Fourteen years," Jared says.

"Fourteen years," Jensen says. He rolls his shoulders and tugs at the bottom of his jacket. "We're not punking out now, Jay, not when we're only two hundred feet away from the damn thing."

"Okay," Jared says, "but just remember, I'd rather we duck out in the middle than have you go insane-er and start stabbing people with cocktail umbrellas."

"Like I could do any damage with... Well, yeah, I guess I could do some damage with a cocktail umbrella. I mean, if it was sharp enough, and I stuck it in the right place, and-"

"Jensen?"

"Yeah, Jared?"

"Please stop."

"Okay." Jensen made the corners of his mouth twist upward. "What about this smile," he says through bared teeth, "does this smile look normal?"

Jared grimaces. "Maybe if you're a serial killer."

"Close enough."

[think4paperinkw.livejournal.com]

I have another idea.

[saone77.livejournal.com]

Chad's not scared of Jensen.

He's not.

Really.

Just because he's some kickass, assassin-type guy with mad skills, and fast hands, and dead fucking eyes that are boring into Chad's skull and down to the very depths of his soul doesn't mean that Chad's scared of the guy.

Really.

"Murray."

"Ackles."

Jensen keeps staring at him, but Chad is not going to flinch, or fidget, or fling himself from his office window in terror. He's no punk ass, dammit. He's the motherfuckin' man, and Jensen had better recognize!

Jensen's dead, doll eyes roll towards the ceiling as he snorts. "I don't know what you're thinking right now, but I'm pretty sure it's stupid."

"Oh, yeah," Chad says, "well so's your face."

"Oh, God." Jensen rubs at his temples. "I just want you to know I'm in pain right now."

Chad perks up.

"Saying this is giving me physical pain," Jensen continues. "But I think we need to... Christ... We need to get along."

"Fuck no, we don't," Chad says. "I hate you. You hate me. I think our mutual animosity is working well for us."

"Oh, don't get me wrong," Jensen says, "if it were up to me, I'd have your skin suit drying over my shower curtain rod-"

"Dude, gross."

"But I can't kill you," Jensen says. "Or gouge out your eyes with a spoon. Or pull out your tongue with a pair of pliers. Or-"

"Put a lot of thought into this, have we?"

Jensen shrugs. "You're Jared's best friend. For some unknown, unholy, unbelievable reason. He... likes you. As a person. Or whatever."

"Me and the Sasquatch have been through a lot together over the years," Chad says smugly. "Lots of years. Way more years than your pretty ass has been around."

Jensen closes his eyes and takes a deep, long, slow breath. Chad studies him.

"Skin suit?" Chad guesses.

"Tongue pliers," Jensen says. "That's my favorite. I only pull out the skin suit one on special occasions."

"Oh." Chad frowns. "Like what kind of special occasions?"

"Like when you interrupted our anniversary dinner."

Chad almost cringes. "In my defense, that was before I knew you two were for real and everything. I still mostly thought you were some kind of long-rent hooker or something. You know, like how some people live in hotel rooms?"

Jensen closes his eyes and takes a deep, long, slow breath.

"Skin suit," Chad asks again.

"Yep," Jensen says. He opens his eyes and practically pins Chad to his chair. "Anyway, like I said, we need to start getting along. I love Jared, and I think you care about him too, in your own unique, odd, little way. And Jared loves me and has some sort of strange, Godforsaken affection for you. So... Therefore... Fuck it. Let's just try to not get on each other's nerves too badly, okay?"

Chad looks from the gleam of insanity in Jensen's eyes, to the tick in his lower jaw, to the steady clench of the fingers of his left hand, like he was imagining choking the life out of someone.

"Whatever," Chad says. "But, know this, you break Jay's heart and you and me are gonna have words. Skin suit or not."

Jensen stares at him for a moment. "You're not all horrible, are you, Murray?"

Chad smiles. "I do have my moments."

[proserpine-1982.livejournal.com]

Oh, just thought of another one - can we have the scene with Jeff goosing Jensen while no one knew who Jensen was other than trophy bf? Or just a scene between Jeff and Jensen with Jeff being all inappropiate? lol

[big-heart-june.livejournal.com]

oooooh, excellent prompt! :D

[proffesorx.livejournal.com]

jealous Jensen who doesn't even realize he's jealous, so priceless! thanx :)

[relativity1953.livejournal.com]

I would like to second 'xcziel's prompt:
Jensen takes a hit to the head and gets temporary amnesia. He knows he and Jared are together, and thinks that the team are their bodyguards. Cue Jensen attempting to be a proper "hostess" to the guys (overseeing the house staff, checking on everyone's 'comfort', etc.) and a loving boyfriend to Jared. And not understanding why everyone is terrified when he's just trying to be pleasant.

I have loved ALL of these!

[senseofpeace.livejournal.com]

These were amazing! How did you make these up so quickly? Congratulations on developing such a wonderful universe. I love everybody in it.

[gypsy-atavari.livejournal.com]

These are all awesome and I wish I could come with a worthy prompt. :-) Love this verse!!