Chapter Text
Jensen sat at the bar, his hand wrapped tightly around the tumbler. Chris Kane, Jensen's closest friend and partner walked to the bar and sat down beside him.
"Penny for your thoughts kid," he said. Jensen snorted at the kid remark. He's only five years younger than Chris, but that doesn't stop him from calling him 'kid' or 'son'. But since he's a new agent, they all call him that.
"This is so fucked up man, how can they do this?"
"They can do anything they want son, they're the FBI."
"Yeah, but this is just - " Jensen sighed, "really fuckin' cruel, man. How can I do this?"
"Jensen, Morgan is a cruel fucking man. How can you not do this? It's not fair, and yeah, it sucks - but this kid is your way in. You're the one who found him. Nobody knew that he exsisted, but you found him. You had to know that once they found out that he's gay that they were gonna order you to get close to him, earn his trust, get him to fall in lov..."
"Ok, ok, stop!" Jensen groaned and tossed back his drink. "I can't...I don't want to talk about this right now. I just wanna get drunk, ok?"
"Hey," Chris said to the bartender, "two doubles," and he threw a twenty on the bar.
Jensen snorted again. "You're gay, why didn't they get you to do this?"
"One: I'm thirty, Jared is ninteen. Two: I'm married. And three: I'm not as pretty as you."
Jensen threw his head back and laughed.
"I'm drop dead sexy and ruggedly hot, but not pretty, son. We need someone like you to win that boy over. Some close to his age," Chris finished.
"I wish that I hadn't found him," Jensen whispered. "I'm not that kind of person, Chris."
"I know that, but you have to. Well, if you want to stay a field agent. You refuse this job, your first real assignment, your ass will be pushing paper for the next thirty years, son."
Jensen sighed hard. "I know. It's just..."
"Hey," Chris motioned to the bartender, "gimme the whole bottle. Put it on my tab," he smiled sweetly.
The pretty blonde smiled and pulled the bottle of Johnny Walker off the shelf and handed it over.
"Thanks darlin'," Chris winked. "Come on son, Steve'll be here in a few minutes. I'd like to be pleasantly drunk when he gets here. It gives him some sort of thrill to take control of me now and again...and I'm in the mood to bottom tonight."
Jensen covered his ears. "TMI, dude! TMI!"
Chris grabbed the bottle and his and Jensen's tumblers. "Grab one for Steve, you pansy ass, and meet me in the corner," Chris pointed to a booth in the back of the bar.
"Dude, but I barely know you!" Jensen mock grabbed at his heart, "and besides, I'm not easy!" he added as he followed Christian.
"Yeah, right. That's why I got your little ass in bed the first time I tried!"
"You wish!" Jensen said, punching him in the back. "You wish you could tap my ass, baby! Truth is, you TRIED and I believe that I turned you down, or did you forget?"
"Selective memory, son! Selective memory!" Chris jibed as they sit down.
"Who's got selective memory?" Steve asked as he sat down beside his husband.
"Our boy Jensen here seems to remember the past incorrectly. He thinks that he turned me down when we met. I seem to remember pounding that little ass into my mattress."
Steve snorted out a laugh and poured himself a glass. "I seem to remember that Jensen told you to, and I quote, "Get your hillbilly ass off of me, I ain't interested!"
Jensen giggled and high fived Steve. "Thank you!"
"Fuck both of y'all!" Chris said, filling his glass and taking a drink.
"Ok, so - I guess I'm headed back to college then, huh?" Jensen asked and he swirled the amber colored liquid in the glass.
"Guess so," Christian answered.
Jensen shook his head. "God, I hate myself right now. This kid doesn't deserve what's coming his way just because of who is father is."
"This the case you been telling me about?" Steve asked.
"Yeah, trying to take down Morgan, and we finally have a way in. This Padalecki kid is perfect. By the way, why's his name Padalecki?"
Jensen gulped down the rest of his drink. "His mother's last name."
"Ah."
"Fill me up?" Jensen asked, and pushed his glass toward Steve. "Next bottle's on me."
~*~*~*~*~
Jared stormed into the huge mansion, his face red and angry, jaw set. "Where the fuck is he?" Jared growled in Tom Welling's, Jeff's right hand man, face.
"He's not to be disturbed right now, Jared."
Jared scoffed in his face and walked around the six foot-plus beauty. He knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt that nobody would physically restrain him or touch him. The last person who did was found in pieces all across town.
Jared flung open the door. Jeff was sitting at the large, marble-topped desk, smoking a cigar and toasting a drink with the mayor of San Antonio. "Did you do this?" Jared snarled.
"Jared, it's good to see you son, would you like a drink? Mayor Tyler and I were just talking about..."
"I don't give a fuck what you were talking about!" Jared growled and turned to the mayor. "Leave," Jared ordered him. "Now."
The mayor stood and set down his drink. "We'll talk more later. I think that your son desires your attention."
"We'll have lunch next week. I'll have my assistant call yours and set it up, yes?" Jeff asked.
"That's fine," the mayor turned and looked at Jared. "Good day, son."
"I'm not your son," Jared snarled.
The mayor chuckled and left the room. Jared immediately turned on his father. "Where is he?"
Jeff leaned forward and leaned with his elbows on the desk. "Who exactly are we talking about?"
"My boyfriend, Chad. He's gone, Jeff. What did you do to him? Huh?"
"I didn't do anything to him," Jeff told him, stressing the word "I".
"Then you had your monkey out there do it, or that bald fuck Mike! Now, I want you to tell me what you did to him. Is he dead?"
Jeff took a long drag from his cigar, blew the thick smoke out and took a sip of his drink. He smirked and set the glass down. "What makes you think that I would kill him, or have him killed?"
Jared scoffed. "Because, Dad, it's what you do."
"That boy wasn't good enough for you, Jared. You're a Morgan, and..."
"I'm a Padalecki, not a Morgan. I'm nothing like you, I'll never be anything like you!" Jared walked across the room and pressed his hands down on the desk and leaned forward. "Now tell me what you did to Chad."
"I told him that he had two choices. he could take a check," Jeff said as he pulled out a large binder from the middle drawer. He opened it and then turned the book around for Jared to see that there had been a check made out to Chad M. Murray in the sum of one million dollars, "and he could start a new life, away from Texas and you."
"Or what?" Jared asked, the fury apparent on his face.
"I didn't need to give him an ultimatum. He saw the amount on the check, took it and started packing." Jeff stood up and leaned on the desk in the same manner as Jared, their faces only inches apart. "I told you, that boy wasn't good enough for you. He took the money and ran."
Jared scoffed again and shook his head. "Stay away from me, do you hear me? Stay the fuck out of my life!" He turned and headed toward the door.
"Jared?" Jeff said sternly. Jared stopped at the door, but didn't turn around. "Your sister will be in town in a few weeks, and she'll be staying here. I'd like for you to join us for dinner on the day that she arrives."
Jared turned around and glared at him. "Fine," he simply said, then pulled the door open and left the room.
"Sir?" Tom said entering, "do you want me to have him followed?"
"No, he'll be going back to the dorms. Just have Mike or Terry check up on him in the morning."
"Yes sir. Is there anything I can get you?"
"No, thank you, Tom. I'll be heading up to bed for the evening."
"Good night, sir," Tom told him.
"Good night, Tom."
~*~*~*~*~
Jensen sighed as he headed across the campus. He had been here last week in a secret meeting with the Dean of the college; he was the only person that knew Jensen's true idenity. The Dean had arranged Jensen's schedule to match Jared's exactly, but he wasn't told the exact truth about why Jensen was there. He was told that Jensen would be there undercover to protect Jared, nothing more.
Jensen smiled at a few girls who pointed at him and giggled when he passed. He was fortunate that when he was completely clean shaven that he looked even younger than his twenty-five years, not that he was going to lie about his age...he already had enough lies to remember. Fake I.D., fake past, fake family, fake car - fake, fake, fake, fake. And he hated himself for it.
He walked into the office and leaned on the counter and cleared his throat. He wasn't used to being ignored, but today he didn't have his FBI badge to back himself up. "Excuse me?" he said to the woman who was typing away on a computer and effectively ignoring him. "Hello?" he said, knocking on the counter. "I'm new here, I'm standing here with my luggage and would like to get the key to my dorm so that I can unpack and get some decent rest before I have to prepare for my first class tomorrow."
The older woman looked up. "Can't you see that I'm busy, son?"
"Yeah, you look it. I don't know if you're really working, or if you're answering your email from 1-900bigstuds.com. I'm tired, I just wanna go to my room."
To Jensen's surprise the woman chuckled and said "Name?"
"Jensen Stevens."
She clacked the keys on the keyboard and waited a moment. "Ok," she said, depressing a button and getting up. She walked to the printer and pulled off the paper there and proceeded to a locked cabinet, opened it and pulled out a key. "You're in Picasso Tower."
Jensen snorted. "That where you put all the art geeks?" he asked.
"Yeah, you're fortunate. We had a student drop out, otherwise, you'd be in Geekdom Lane with the nerds or Trumpet Hall with the band geeks."
"Miss Honeywell," a man's voice called from behind Jensen, "how many times have I asked you not to refer to the dorms in the same manner as the students?"
"Sorry, Dean Winters," she sniggered. "Alright Jensen, you're in the third dorm building," she said, turning a map around toward Jensen. "It's official name is The Baxter building," she said leaning forward and whispered, "but everyone calls it Picasso Tower. You'll be on the second floor, dorm 124. You're roommate is Jared Padalecki."
Jensen stood there looking at her with a stunned look on his face.
"Mr. Stevens, are you alright?" she asked him.
"Yeah. Sorry. Thank you."
Once Jensen got outside he snorted. This was gonna be a little easier than he thought.
~
Jensen knocked on the door. He did have a key, but he didn't want to barge into the room in case that Jared was...well, doing something private.
The door was pulled open and Jared looked out at him. "Uh, what?" he asked, Jensen looking at him with a frown.
"Hi, I'm Jensen, your new roommate."
Jared sighed and stood aside allowing Jensen to enter the room. Inside were two double-sized beds separated by a nightstand. On either side of the room was a small desk and closet. "That side's yours. Don't use my stuff without asking and don't eat my oreos in the fridge," Jared said quietly.
"OOOOOK," Jensen said, walking to the other bed and throwing down his duffle and the shoulder bag containing his laptop. He pulled off his second shoulder bag that containted the art supplies Chris had bought for him.
Jared flopped down on his own bed, picked up his sketch pad and went back to drawing. Jensen opened the closet and started to hang up his clothes. He snorted at the small two drawer dresser in the bottom of the closet that was apparently used for underclothes. "Guess it's good that I don't have many clothes, huh?" Jensen smiled, looking over at Jared. He didn't look up or even acknowledge that Jensen said anything. "You don't talk much, do ya?"
Jared looked over at him. "What do you want to know?"
"Well I already know your name, they told me downstairs in the office. And since you're in Picasso Tower and you're holding a sketch pad, I'm gonna assume that you're an art student," Jensen shrugged, "but other than that, I don't know anything."
Jared sighed and threw his sketch pad down. "Yes, I'm an art student, I'm nineteen, I'm from Texas, never been outta the state, I've got a younger sister and an older brother. My mom is dead, and as soon as I graduate, I'm out of this fucking state."
"Sorry," Jensen said.
"For what?"
"That your mom is dead. I don't know what I'd do - my mother is great. And...man, I'm just sorry."
"Thanks. It's been a year. She died right after I graduated high school. It was really rough. I don't get along with my father, and so I'm pretty much alone. My sister Beki, well, half sister, lives in Paris and my half brother Terry and I don't get along. At all. But my sister is coming into town in a few weeks, so I'm glad about that," Jared smiled.
Jensen finished hanging up his clothes and plopped down on the bed and sighed.
"Jensen?" Jared said quietly.
"Yeah?" he answered, turning on his side to face Jared.
"I, uh, I wanted you to know that I'm gay...so if that's a problem..."
"Yeah, I know."
"You know? How?"
"Gaydar dude," Jensen smiled. "I guess yours is broken?" he sniggers.
"You are, too?"
"As a three dollar bill," Jensen winked.
"Thank God! The last thing I wanted was to deal with some asshole who would give me a hard time for it."
Jensen laughed. "Yeah, well - it's pretty hard to be out in Texas...but I'm pretty good in a fight if I'm pushed into it."
"I'm starving, you wanna come with me to this pizza place down the street? They have the best pizza in the world," Jared smiled.
"Pizza? Hell yeah!" Jensen smiled and stood up. "You and I, Jared...we're gonna get along just fine," Jensen told him and slapped his back.
tbc...