beanside | Fic: Under Wandering Stars

Title: Under Wandering Stars
Authors:

beanside
Rating: R
Disclaimer: This never happened. Strictly fiction.
A/N: Many thank yous to our betas

embroderama. They're awesome as always.

It wasn't that Jeff wasn't used to waking up abruptly; It was just that Jared was faster.

When the scream echoed through the house, Jared was over Jeff and on his feet, moving towards the bedroom before Jeff could sit upright.

Another scream split the night, and Jeff winced as Bisou lifted her head.

Great; a nightmare. He'd known it was a mistake to put Jensen alone tonight. Should have moved the air bed into their room if nothing else. Should have known better after his freakout during the tattoo. Jesus.

Jeff stumbled towards the door, freezing when he heard Jared give a soft cry of pain, followed by the thump of a body hitting the wall.

Jared was slumped against the doorframe, clutching his stomach. Jeff grabbed him by the shoulders too hard, patting him down. There was no blood under his hands, nothing torn; Jared smacked at his hands.

"You okay, baby?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Hits like a scrum half, though. Went out the front," Jared wheezed. "Go!"

Jeff nodded, hurrying towards the open front door. He could just see Jensen bolting past the cars, running at full tilt. He didn't seem to be really looking at anything, clipping off the bushes, weaving off the path and into the snow in his bare feet.

Fuck. Jeff took a second to jam his feet into his boots and grab Bisou's leash before bolting out the door after the smaller man.

Chris would be happy to know that his training hadn't gone amiss. Jeff was still in good shape, catching up to Jensen quickly, getting close enough to twirl Bisou's leash over his head like they'd learned on the ranch in Queensland. He let the leash go and hoped like hell.

The leash flew, carried by the heavier clip, and tangled around Jensen's ankles. He went down hard in a brittle drift of snow.

Jensen landed awkwardly, the snow not enough to mask the thump of flesh on frozen ground. He laid there, soundless, body held stiff. Waiting for a chance to attack? Maybe. Jeff had him cornered, and he'd be an idiot to think Jensen wouldn't lash out.

Making sure his steps crunched, Jeff moved closer. He kept his body loose, poised to get the fuck out of the way if he had to, but Jensen didn't so much as twitch. He was shivering, breath misting up against the snow, violence coiled up in every line of his body.

"Okay," Jeff murmured, more soothing noise than words. He remembered prying Sophia out of a corner of the loft as she clawed at him and howled. She and Trucco had needed a quiet voice and steady hands. God only knew what Jensen needed. "Okay, sweetheart. Are we done? You ready to come back inside now?"

Nothing. Jensen lay still, scraped up hands bleeding on the snow, just breathing. He didn't make any move to push himself up, or show any sign that he heard Jeff at all. His eyes were closed tight, lashes flinching against his cheeks as the ice broke under Jeff's boots.

"Easy, baby. Nobody's going to hurt you." Careful, Jeff knelt down and started to touch Jensen's arm. "I've got-"

It was kind of like a train wreck. He could see it coming, but damned if he could get out of the way.

For such a scrawny, beat up little thing, Jensen could hit like a mule. Jeff barely caught a glimpse of the elbow before it impacted, rocking his head back, sending him sprawling on his ass in the wet snow. As he fell, he could see Jensen gathering himself for another attack or to bolt again.

As Jensen came upright, Jeff grabbed at the leash, giving it a sharp tug. The resulting sprawl gave him a chance to get his arms around Jensen, to pull him close. Jensen fought silent and hard, nails raking up Jeff's forearms as he tried to claw out of Jeff's grip. Jeff still had leverage and weight; he tightened his hold, ignoring the sick twist in his stomach. Restraining a slave might make him a bastard, but letting Jen run blind and barefoot until he dropped was worse.

"It's okay," he repeated harshly, like that meant anything. "Stop, Jen, you're safe-"

A sharp jolt of electricity hit Jeff's chest, and he hissed a breath, watching as Jensen stiffened. Fuck, they had an implant on him. Sonofabitch. That complicated things.

Jensen sagged after a moment, and Jeff noticed the blood staining Jensen's white t-shirt. It was hard to tell beyond the throb of his face and the spike of adrenaline whether it was his or Jensen's, but it was all over them both. When Jeff moved to look Jensen over, Jensen jerked as far away as he could. The whites showed around his eyes.

Jensen hadn't been attacking. He'd been trying like hell to get away. He was in the job over his head, and he was trying to run.

"Jensen," Jeff began, his voice hoarse in his throat. "I know-"

A flashlight beam slid over their bodies, spotlighting the blood. It looked too bright to be real. Jensen jerked, trying to claw his way off Jeff's lap, and Jeff grabbed him by the shirt. A few more violent twists and Jensen slumped back into him, his heart hammering against Jeff's side. Jeff rubbed warmth back into Jensen's bare arms. His chest still stung from the jolt of the implant, and he was thoroughly drenched in his own blood.

Someone was going to die for this.

Then Jared was there, hunkering down beside them, an angel of mercy with a hoodie and a thermos. His attention darted over Jeff, quickly assessing the damage; Jeff managed a reassuring smile as he took the thermos from Jared and pulled the hoodie around Jensen's shoulders.

Yeah. The wedding photos would look awesome.

Jensen seemed to settle down, looking back at Jeff with wary eyes. When he saw the blood still streaming from Jeff's nose, he tensed again. "Oh, fuck. I'm sorry," he whispered.

He was here to kill Jeff, and he was apologizing for a damn bloody nose.

"No big, dude. Relax. Let's get you in." Jared swooped in, all long arms and comforting voice, lifting Jensen like he weighed nothing. "Jesus, you're freezing."

"Jared," Jensen said, lingering fear making his laugh sharp, "I can walk-"

"Barefoot. In the snow," Jared said flatly. "Don't be a putz. You hardly weigh anything."

"To a yeti like Jared, at least," Jeff said. Or tried to. The words came out clotted and thick, tasting like blood in his throat. He coughed, gingerly feeling the bridge of his nose and his cheekbone. Nothing seemed out of place, but he was pretty sure he'd felt a crack. Then he picked up the flashlight. Their backyard looked like a crime scene. He flicked his light over the treeline, but they were alone out there. For now, anyway.

"Dude? Light on the ground, please. Thank you." Jared hitched Jensen higher and picked his way back to the house, stepping carefully to avoid ice. "Jeff never learns. He's lived with five slaves now, and he still charges right in there to get smacked."

"Five," Jensen echoed, still sounding distant.

"Yeah. There's Kane; Jeff lived with him for a while before they settled down in Vancouver."

Jensen raised his head to stare at Jeff, holding himself at a stiff angle that made Jeff's neck hurt in sympathy. "You freed Kane?"

"Kane's mistress freed him," Jeff said, shrugging. "When he turned 18, she gave him his bars and got him across the border. She was decent, for a slaver." Morgan could be ruthless, but she was at least fair, Jeff thought. The woman who had made sure he survived to see thirty. "Kane had been out for a few years by the time we met, but it was cheaper to split rent and safer to travel together."

"Then there's me," Jared said cheerfully.

Jensen nodded.

"I threw stoneware at his head, left a four inch gash that went right down to the cheekbone."

"Then there was Trucco," Jeff continued, spitting blood again. His voice was clearer. "He was actually easy going. Which was good, because he was pretty big. He's a mountie now. Works in Calgary."

"And then we had Sophia," Jared said, voice laden with something close to awe.

Jeff snickered. "Sophia was a personal slave for about thirty seconds. Then they tried to make her give a blowjob, and she castrated a guy with her teeth."

Jensen tilted his head, a considering light in his eyes, then nodded. "Good."

Jared's smile was vicious. "You'll love Soph. She's a doll. After that, they black-banded her and sold her for cage-fighting."

"Which she proved to be good at. By the time Jared and Tom broke up the fighting ring, she was top dog," Jeff added. "She came here, and promptly made me wish for the days when Jared was just breaking crockery. Woman came up swinging from nightmares."

Jensen's wide eyes made Jeff's chest hurt. "What happened to her?"

"She's working in Toronto as a tattoo artist now. Has her own shop, even." Jeff got the back door, nudging Bisou gently out of the way so Jared could get inside. "Let's get you cleaned up, okay?"

Jared set Jensen down on the kitchen counter. There was a large splotch of blood on Jared's shirt where Jensen had rested against him. Jared considered, then grabbed a wet dishrag and ran it under the water.

Jensen flinched at the sound of running water. His voice was raw. "I can do that. Please go back to bed."

"You shouldn't be alone right now, dude." Turning the water off, Jared pressed the cloth into Jensen's hand. "I'm going to get another set of clothes for you. Then we'll try going back to our bed, this time. It might help."

A muscle jumped in Jensen's jaw. Without looking up, he started cleaning the blood and mud off his hands. "You don't--You're getting married the day after tomorrow. I can sleep in my own bed."

Jeff stepped forward, shaking his head. "If that's what you want, we'll move the bed into our room, then."

Jensen glanced up and flinched again, fumbling with the wet cloth. "God, I'm sorry."

He began gently sponging the blood off Jeff's face, and Jeff felt his stomach clench. For a trained assassin, Jensen seemed a little squeamish, he thought. Not that he doubted Jensen was a very good agent. But the boy didn't seem to have the stomach for inflicting pain.

It made Jeff think a little better of his grandmother. Just a little, to know that maybe Chris was the anomaly. With a soft smile, Jeff laid his hand on Jensen's, stilling it. "Relax. I'm going to shower, you don't have to-"

"I broke your nose."

"Maybe. Not the first time. Probably not the last, either." Jeff shrugged. "It's not a big deal. I'll look like a badass for my wedding pictures."

Jensen winced, shoulders drawing tighter. "I'm sorry," he repeated. His trapped fingers twitched under Jeff's hand.

"Forget it." Gently, Jeff turned Jensen's hand over and started cleaning the scrapes. "I'm sorry for taking you down so hard. Just didn't want you getting lost out there."

Mouth thinning, Jensen murmured, "You should've let me go."

Jeff glanced up at him. "Really. Why's that?"

"Not worth it."

Jeff fought to hide the groundswell of emotions the simple words brought. Jesus. If Jensen only knew the lengths Jeff and Christian had gone to--"You're worth it," he finally said, voice rough.

Jensen shook his head slightly, eyes dropping to the floor. "I can stay in your bed," he finally muttered. "You don't have to go to any trouble."

"Okay," Jeff murmured. "You go ahead and get settled. I'm going to let the girl out and grab a shower."

By the time Jeff made it into the bedroom, Jensen was settled next to Jared, stiff and nervous. He grinned, rumpling the soft hair. "Sleep tight. Big day tomorrow. Thought we'd go into town, get you some clothes, maybe get your eyes checked. You seem to squint a lot."

Jensen shrugged, settling into the bed a little more, letting his eyes close slowly.

Jeff watched him for a moment before tuning out the light, settling in himself.

****

Jensen, it turned out, was a snuggler. Jeff woke with an arm thrown over him, and Jensen's head pillowed on his shoulder. It was...nice. For once, the tight lines around his mouth relaxed, face sweet and open in sleep.

Jeff could pinpoint the moment Jensen woke from the way he tensed, going from softly boneless to wire tight in a heartbeat. "Mornin'," Jeff drawled, voice husky.

Jensen jerked back from him quickly, scrambling back until he was on his feet on the other side of the bed. Jensen's eyes were wide. They fell somewhere between nervous and utter terror. "Hi. Morning," he stammered.

Jeff sighed. This was not a brilliant start to the day.

The rest of the morning didn't give him any more hope for a good day. The optometrist had a bitch of a time getting an accurate reading on Jensen, what with the constant flinching. Katie, who could normally charm anyone, nearly got punched for trying to measure Jensen's inseam, and the women at the diner were giving him pitying looks, the likes of which he hadn't seen since they'd had Sophia.

All in all, he really just wanted to get through the marketplace, get some food for the week, and go home.

Then, he found Jensen with his face pressed to the glass at the cheese counter, eyes big as saucers. "That's all for sale? To anyone?"

Jeff nodded, smiling at the man behind the counter. "I don't know, Paul can be awfully picky. Gonna let me buy cheese from you today?"

The man laughed softly. "To you, not a chance, Morgan. But I'll sell it to this young man. Can't help if you'll end up eating some."

Jeff grinned and offered the other man his hand. "Paul, I'd like you to meet Jensen. Jen, this is Paul Johansson, of Johansson Dairy. Best cheese and milk in Western Canada."

"Nice to meet you, Jensen," Paul said, smiling easily. "See anything you'd like to try?"

"You got the sample plate?" Jeff asked. "Jen really hasn't had much exposure to cheeses."

"Ah. Government cheese, eh?" Paul pronounced the words with such disdain that even Jensen's lips twitched. With a flourish, he produced a tray filled with cubes of cheese on little toothpicks. "In that case, let's see what gets you ha-"

Jeff shot him a dark look, hand moving in an abortive attempt to keep Paul's foul mouth from running amok.

"Er. What you like," Paul amended quickly. "Let's see, we'll start here, with the white longhorn. Not too sharp, nice flavor."

Jensen stared at the proffered toothpick for a moment, then glanced at Jeff.

"Go ahead, Jen. Gotta find out what you like so I know what to buy, right?"

"You don't-" Jensen started.

"Just try the cheese, dude." He waited until Jensen turned back to the cheese before letting his mind wander, looking around the market. It wasn't that crowded this early on a Monday. Here and there a few mothers wandered with their toddlers, and chefs scouted the day's catch, looking for their special. A few others wandered past, probably students from Vancouver U, swinging by for an inexpensive lunch.

One guy caught Jeff's attention. He was standing by the dry goods counter. Something about him was...off. Probably just his own paranoia, but really. Was the bag of pinto beans that interesting? They were fucking beans.

After a long moment, the guy glanced up, eyes darting towards them. They slid past Jeff, focusing for a moment on Jensen before going back to reading the nutritional info on the beans.

Fuck. That had looked a hell of a lot like someone checking the position of their quarry.

Jeff shook his head. He was being an idiot. It was just a health nut.

But still, he kept an eye on the guy. By the time they'd gotten meat and bread, he was getting worried. The guy kept pace with their movements, keeping Jensen in sight. Jeff took little comfort in the fact that Jensen quickly noticed their tail, his eyes locked on reflective surfaces to track his progress through the crowded market.

Then Jensen shifted to cover Jeff's back.

It wasn't a big move, and if he hadn't been subject to years of Christian's tactical training, he might have missed it. But there was no mistaking. Jensen had positioned his body to slide in and cover Jeff if an attack came.

The implication was startling. Jensen was protecting him.

With a gentle smile, Jeff steered him into the produce store, smiling at the pretty blonde who came to the end of the counter.

"Jeff! I thought you'd be here today."

"Oh really? Why is that, Sam?"

"Samantha, you ass. You know I hate Sam. Jared was in early to grab lunch and an apple. We've got the honeycrisps he likes so much."

"Ah. I'll take a bag of them, then."

"I already put one away for you." Her eyes fastened on Jensen. "You must be Jensen."

"Yes ma'am." Jensen's eyes slid down, and Samantha reached across the counter, tapping his chin. "None of that."

He glanced up, startled.

"I'm Samantha. Smith," she added. "It's lovely to meet you."

"Um. Nice to meet you, too."

"Now, since Jared said that you hadn't had much exposure to produce so we're going to try a few things. We'll see what you like." She flashed Jensen a winning smile. "That work for you?"

"Yes?" Jensen said, voice timid.

Jeff couldn't blame him. Samantha could be a steamroller of a woman. Kane and she had a brief fling not long after they'd arrived in Vancouver.

It had been passionate, messy, and wonderful for Kane, who had spent way too much time as a pleasure slave in his life. Couldn't make up for the loss of Nikki, but nothing would.

Thoughts wandering, one eye firmly kept on their tail, Jeff wasn't paying much attention to Jensen until a soft moan brought his head back around sharply.

Jensen was nibbling on a slice of peach, licking the juice off his fingers, eyes closed in bliss.

He moaned again, and Jeff bit his lip. Goddamn.

Next was plums, met by the same near-orgasmic delight.

By the time they'd reached the apricots, Jeff was desperately thinking of roadkill, trying to bring his body under control. Then, Jensen turned to him, sweetly offering him a slice of apricot. "Samantha said this was your favorite," he said softly.

Without thinking, Jeff bent, taking the fruit from Jensen's fingers. Belatedly, he realized that he should have taken it with his fingers, but by then his lips were brushing Jensen's fingers.

Jensen's little gasp sounded loud in Jeff's ears, but when he lifted his head, an apology on his lips, Jensen had turned back,and was eagerly accepting a strawberry from Samantha.

The torture continued for a while, until Jensen seemed to remember their pursuer. It must have been some damn good produce to distract him after all of Morgan's training.

"Let's grab a little bite to eat. The cafe' has great pastries and coffee," Jeff suggested. He guided Jensen to one of the chairs at the back of the cafe, setting their purchases next to him. "I'll be right back, kiddo. Gotta hit the rest room."

For a moment, Jensen seemed ready to object, but then he nodded, looking around nervously.

"If the waitress comes by, order me a mocha, would you? That's chocolate and coffee," Jeff added. The guy was over by the rest rooms, trying to look like he was waiting for someone.

Well, someone was about to find him.

It had been forever, but the switchblade still slid into his palm like an old friend as he circled behind the guy. There was a heartbeat, when Jeff thought it was blown, when the guy looked back towards Jensen and seemed to notice his absence.

Two quick steps brought him up behind the man. The blade snapped out with a barely audible click, slicing through the thick leather jacket and skin alike. "We're going to take a little walk," Jeff murmured, hand clamping on a muscled arm and steering him towards the side exit.

The man went willingly enough, allowing Jeff to guide him out into the chill air. "You're a dead man, Matthew Dean," he growled.

"Yet I'm the one with the knife," Jeff returned. "And don't think I don't see your hand inching towards your gun. Take it out, two fingers, and drop it on the ground."

When the guy hesitated, he let the knife slide, skin parting under the razor edged blade like water.

The gun hit the ground a second later, a wicked affair of blue steel and chrome brushed silencer. Jensen wouldn't have stood a chance.

"Now, who are you working for?"

The man shook his head, and Jeff snarled. "That wasn't optional." He changed the angle of the blade, letting it slide into the meaty flesh at the man's waist.

"Ch-Chancelor."

"He doesn't trust Jensen to get the job done?" Jeff asked.

"You idiot. The slave is Bentley's tool. The President would never send such an unreliable operative." His breath hissed out as Jeff removed the knife, twisting to cause maximum pain.

"What were your orders?"

"Kill the slave. And you."

"How did he know I was alive?" Jeff grated.

'You'll let me live if I cooperate?"

"Sure," Jeff agreed easily.

"Your partner. He had a picture when we picked him up on the raid."

Shit. They knew about Jared.

"Chancellor thought that Bentley was trying to usurp him, now, before his bride delivers the new heir to the presidency."

"And I'm the only thing that could stand in the way," Jeff sighed. Fuck. This was about to get even more difficult.

"Yes."

"Anything else?" Jeff prodded.

"No."

"Good. The knife slid into the man's lung easily, just like Christian had taught Jeff. With the lungs filling with blood, it was impossible to scream. Jeff shoved him into the Dumpster, held him there while he struggled, looking back over his shoulder, eyes accusing.

"I lied," Jeff muttered, lifting the body into the dumpster and kicking snow over the bloodstains. He'd call Chris, have his team come and clean the site.

Fuck. He was going to have to move again. He had to tell Jared.

Intent on his thoughts, he didn't notice the man sitting next to Jensen until he was nearly on them. "Hey, hoss," Christian drawled. "Just gettin' acquainted with your new boy." Jeff winced at the anger in Christian's eyes.

Well, fuck. Guess Christian decided not to wait.