Chapter Text
Time
"The flow of sand in an hourglass can be used to keep track of elapsed time. It also concretely represents the present as being between the past and the future." misc, wikipedia
"Years of love have been forgot, In the hatred of a minute." Edgar Allen Poe
"There is a time to be born and a time to die, a time to walk and a time to run, a time to lead with your head and a time to let your heart decide. " Author, 2008
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
September 3rd 2007
Jensen frowned. Jared was late again.
He was consistently late, which is why Jensen normally gave him a time that was at least half an hour before the actual time he needed to be somewhere. He had forgotten that extra half hour tonight; hence he was now waiting outside the restaurant, leaning against his car in the opposite car park, breathing in the comforting noise and confusion that was Washington.
Ten years as a federal agent kept him on his toes, even as he stood, ready for his first anniversary meal, dressed to impress, in new jeans and a pale denim shirt.
The agent in him had already sourced exits and checked people and cars, and the agent in him still had the reassuring weight of a weapon under his shirt, tucked in the back of his jeans. The boyfriend, partner, lover in him was anxious and a just a tiny bit annoyed that Jared was going to be late for this occasion, when it had actually been his big goofy boyfriends idea in the first place.
Jared Tristan Padalecki. 25 years of kid; irrepressible, excitable, kid, had grabbed Jensen for himself exactly one year ago today, had broken down all of Jensen’s not doing this with another agent walls and shown Jensen that his career choice to work with the President some 5 years ago, didn’t have to be a lonely one.
They still lived in separate apartments and as soon as Jared and Jensen became JaredJensen, the younger agent had immediately asked to be reassigned away from the prestigious presidential detail, and had moved over to some science based detail, playing on his degree in biological science to get the move as quickly as he could.
Considering they had worked together with the President ever since Jared joined the detail two years ago, before the big coming out over beers and sucking face session, it was difficult to be apart for the days at a time that they had to now. The last time he had seen Jared was three weeks before, and since then communication had been via email and cellphone only. Even then it was difficult to talk about what they really wanted, as all texts and emails and calls were monitored in and out of The White House as a matter of course.
He imagined what Jared would be wearing; he had asked Jensen to dress down and given he had seen Jared quite a few times in a suit, he was so looking forward to seeing his lover in tight jeans. He had Jared all to himself for a whole 48 hours, the perfect meal, the perfect company, and then back to Jared’s apartment, thankfully away from The White House for a lot of miss you need you lovemaking.
Again he checked his watch, 7.25, twenty five minutes late, Jensen sighed again, shuffling his position to get more comfortable, his eyes lazily cataloguing the people going in and out of Café Espresse, happy to people watch, waiting for his tall boyfriend to arrive huffing and blowing and apologising. The thought of it brought a smile to his face, a smile that a tall slim blonde returned, tossing her hair as she entered the restaurant across the road, slinking in with her short dress that hugged her close, leaving nothing to anyone’s imagination. Jensen grinned inwardly, wasted on me, he thought, and again focused on the image of Jared in jeans.
He glanced at the large roman numeral faced clock he could see through the window in the restaurant, as he peered round the people waiting to enter; 7:29. Good, Jared would be here in literally a minute, Jensen joked that Jared’s concept of time involved adding exactly 30 minutes to every time agreed, and added he was glad it only applied in his private life, as 30 minutes late to save the President’s life was so not going to work. In his defense Jared said he was worth waiting for and as he was nibbling down Jensen’s neck at the time, rendering the older man incoherent, there was no comeback Jensen could think of.
A sense of excitement started to build in Jensen. Imagining Jared walking up to him, shyly knocking shoulders, a hug, the press of needy bodies in a discrete manly back patting hold. A car stopped just up the street, it looked like Jared’s and Jensen felt a hot shudder of anticipation shoot straight to his heart. He opened the trunk of his classic car, removing his grey jacket and shrugging it on, closing the trunk and turning as someone spoke his name.
“Jensen Ackles?”
Jensen looked confused, the voice, he pasted a smile on his face.
“Sorry?” he said simply.
There was a gun with a silencer in the man’s hand and in a split second Jensen started to reach for his own weapon, the other man’s eyes were as blue as sky and as hard as death, his mouth pulled in an approximation of a smile, sneering with hate. Jensen didn’t have time to negotiate, to assess, to attack, to defend or to plead.
The bullet left the gun at over 330 metres a second, there was low friction force between the bullet and a barrel, and the bullet hit Jensen’s heart with intense kinetic energy, so intense he left this earth instantly, in a heartbeat, in an instant his life gone. Jensen’s green eyes froze in horror as his earthly body crumpled to the floor, blood on his car, on the sidewalk, on the road. The man with the blue eyes didn’t wait, didn’t see the tall man running from the other car, didn’t hesitate to disappear in the alleys opposite the restaurant, disappearing into the shimmering heat of the late summer evening.
Jared reached Jensen 15 seconds after he hit the floor, knowing before he fell to his knees, his own weapon in his hand, that his lover was dead, hearing an awful noise of keening in his head, realising belatedly it was him. He scooped his dead lover into a tight hold, hands slick with scarlet blood and buried his face in Jensen's neck, trying to draw in his warmth and his smell.
Hands pulled him away, a blur of hands, and voices and noises.
“I was late” Jared said, over and over again, to nobody and everybody.
“I was late”