Long Way Home, 3/3

[topaz119]

Part Three

Jared got used to sleeping for only a couple of hours at a time so that he could search in the dead of the night while everyone else was asleep. He spent three nights in the Captain's study, sure that he would find something there, but came up empty and finally moved on.

Every night he expected somebody to catch him, and every time the phone rang he was sure it was going to be Rosy, which made him jumpy enough that he had a dozen fake stories in his head, so many that he never would have gotten the right one out if anything had happened--but he was still happier than he'd ever been.

Almost every morning he found himself awake early enough to eat breakfast with Lady Frances, and when he got the nerve to ask her, she told him stories about her family and the house. Jared didn't even pretend to himself that he was doing it to get in good with a mark; he just liked hearing them, even if he knew she thought she was telling him about his own family. He helped her pack things up, a little every morning, working quietly until Jensen managed to wake up and came and found them so he and Jared could take the dogs out for a run.

"I'm so pleased you've made friends with Jensen," Lady Frances told him. "He's always been so reserved. A lovely boy, and young man, but quite shy. You seem to have the knack of bringing him out of himself."

One morning Jared asked her if she minded having to leave, and she smiled and said she regretted a lot of things, but no thing, not even a house was worth being sad about. He thought she meant it and didn't mean it at the same time, as though she was trying to convince herself of what she was saying, too.

"I have the most darling little mews house off Brompton Road," she'd said. "We'll be a little cramped there, but I expect I'll get a socking good price on it--I've had it since before the war--and we'll find something that will suit us quite well."

Jared wanted to tell her not to worry about selling her London house (Jensen was really good about translating things; Jared might have figured out Brompton Road was in London, but he'd never have gotten that a mews house was a little townhouse-type place, converted from what had originally been the carriage house and quarters for the stable hands who worked for the main house on the other side of the alley), because he wouldn't be around for much longer, but if he did that, he was toast.

He started to have that conversation with Jensen once, because every day he hated lying about everything more and more; hated how those lies were messing with everyone around him. As soon as he said he wasn't counting on being around for very long because he didn't think the DNA tests were going to come back the right way, Jensen had shaken his head.

"It's not going to make all that much difference to Gran, you know. Once she takes you in, you're in. If they come back negative, it only means she keeps looking for him, not that she throws you away."

Jared couldn't very well say that she wasn't going to keep being nice to a kid who'd conned her, so he'd just shrugged and changed the subject.

They had a corner in the kitchen where they put the things that Lady Frances wanted to keep when she moved to London. Every time she added something, she'd laugh and say how she needed to stop, how the mews house was already full to the brim, but one day, Jared came through on his way to meet up with Jensen and the dogs and found her sitting at the table, crying.

He stood there like an idiot, not knowing what to do, but as soon as she saw him she shook her head and took a deep breath. "I'm fine, Jared. Just being stupid and sentimental." She waved toward a carved wooden chest. When Jared opened it, he saw it was full of silverware, carved and ornate, and very definitely real silver. "It was a wedding present from my oldest sister, and it's quite hideous and I've never used it other than when she would come for a visit, but the thought of selling it sent me into the flubs."

"Sometimes," Jared said slowly, feeling like the biggest tool alive, but not able to just stand there and say nothing, "it's just the idea of a thing that's the hard part to let go of."

"You're very right," Lady Frances said, sounding much more like herself. "It is absolutely the idea of my dear sister, and her appalling taste, that's going to keep me dragging these ugly things around with me, even if I don't have the room for them and can't bear to look at them on a daily basis."

Jared smiled as she closed the chest with a decisive-sounding snap.

"Now, as you're dressed for some fresh air and romping with the dogs, I'll let you go."

"Well, the dogs and Jensen will wait," Jared said.

"Nonsense," she said. "I shall make myself a cup of tea and get on with more necessary things. Go on, shoo."

"Shoo-ing," Jared said, remembering to close the door quietly behind him, not let it slam shut.

He told Jensen about it, of course, but Jensen only sighed and shook his head. "The only reason she's going through with all this--packing up, turning the house over to the National Trust--is because she's stubborn. The Eighth is going to be furious when he hears about it--he's still a bit aggravated that she's never moved into the Dower House. He'll take it personally, as though she didn't trust him enough to help out, and it's going to be a right mess, but there's no arguing with her."

Jared wondered how much money it might take to make the repairs and run the house, but didn't see much hope. Even if he could find the treasure, he didn't really think Rosy was going to follow through and give him his share, and he didn't suppose anyone would want him around anyway.

***

Every day Jared expected Jensen to have something better to do than hang out with him, but it never happened that way. Jensen went out sometimes, met friends at the pub in the evenings, and one afternoon he left to play tennis at some other house, but the rest of the time he seemed fine just being with Jared. He showed Jared the hiding places he'd made as a kid behind the heavy old furniture in the unused bedrooms on the third floor, and the secret passages he'd found while rambling about the house on rainy days.

"Nothing terribly exciting," Jensen said. "Just some dusty hallways…"

"No, it's cool, come on," Jared answered. "I never thought I'd live any place that had a secret door behind the bookshelves."

Jensen laughed and pulled a dozen books off the shelves, ones he thought Jared might like, and never seemed to care that Jared had pushed his way into his life.

It made Jared's day if he could make Jensen laugh--a real one, not the quiet chuckle that passed for it most of the time. Jensen didn't let him just clown around, though; more than once Jared was on the receiving end of what he could tell was a carefully worded question about his life. Even after Jared was sure that Jensen wasn't trying to trip him up, he reminded himself that it was better not to get too close, no matter how hard it was to keep things distant.

If Jensen had pressed him for answers he probably would have been able to keep to the plan, but Jensen only nodded when Jared did his deflecting act and before he knew it Jared heard himself saying, "When I was ten, the social worker left my file out while I was supposed to be taking some IQ test." It was too late to shut up, so he shrugged. "I read it, of course, because I didn't remember anything from before I was in first grade."

He stopped then, because the next part was hard; he'd never told anyone before. Jensen didn't push, only sat next to Jared until he found his voice again. "It didn't say anything, though. Just that the cops had taken me out of a house when the lady who lived there had a heart attack, and that the neighbors had said she'd showed up with me about a year earlier, saying that the Lord had sent me to her. They thought I was her nephew or something. All they really knew about me was that I didn't talk. Whoever she was, she died, and there wasn't any family, so they called Child Welfare."

"That's a lot to deal with," Jensen said, and again Jared was sure that he was choosing his words with care. "Especially on your own."

"I kinda stopped talking again," Jared said, everything coming out in a rush. "Not really, just, I didn't say a whole lot for a couple of months. I mean, they guessed at how old I was, and the birthday on all my records is the day I went into the system. But then… I don't know. I guess I got used to it? It was better that I knew there wasn't anything in the file. It made it easier to pay attention to what was going on in front of me." He shrugged again. "Does that make sense?"

"Yes," Jensen said, firm and sure and matter-of-fact. "It makes absolute sense." He let Jared change the subject then, and didn't mention it again. Jared thought it might be awkward, knowing that Jensen knew, but it wasn't, not at all.

***

Jensen had a bike that he'd kept at the house for years, and Jeffrey fiddled with another old one so Jared could use it, and Jensen dragged him out one day to ride halfway across the county, it felt. Jared was kind of shaky on a bike--another one of those things you didn't get much chance to practice while you were bouncing around the system--but Jensen was pretty much the definition of laid-back about everything, so Jared went for it. Mrs. Priory packed them enough food to feed an army--seriously, a whole chicken, plus bread and cheese and plums from the tree in the garden and berry turnovers and Jared wasn't even sure what else--and the dogs were thrilled to really stretch out and run.

"I'm going to miss this," Jensen said, leaning back on his elbows and half-closing his eyes.

"Were you planning to come back?" Jared asked. "After you finish college?"

"Maybe," Jensen said. ""It's--I grew up all over the place, and traveling's great, but this is as close to a home base as I've ever had." He sounded lazy and content and Jared wanted him so bad he couldn't think. "I suppose it'd depend who I was with, really. If it was only me, I'd be happy to live here. But I'll probably fall for someone who insists on living in London.

"Is there--" Jared swallowed hard and made himself ask. "You never mentioned anybody, a girlfriend, or anything."

"Well, you know, seeing as I'm gay, definitely no girlfriend," Jensen answered, one corner of his mouth quirking up. "No anything else either."

Jared couldn't say anything for a second or two, long enough that Jensen opened his eyes and sat up. Jared immediately dropped his eyes. "Jared? That's--you didn't know?" Jared managed to shake his head, but his eyes stayed firmly fixed on the ground. Jensen was quiet for another second, then asked, "Is that a problem?"

Jared couldn't help but laugh, because that was so far from the truth, but as soon he did, he knew it was the exact wrong thing to do, and he needed to fix it, no matter how much he didn't want to be the dumb kid trailing around begging for attention.

"I have the biggest crush on you," Jared said quietly. It was easier to get the words out than he thought it would be, but maybe that was because he wasn't looking at Jensen. "I've never--there's never really been…" He shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to screw everything up."

"No, hey--"

"I mean, I know I'm just a kid, and I don't belong here, and you probably don't--"

"Jared," Jensen said, putting his hand on Jared's. "No. You haven't screwed anything up." Jared finally got the guts to look up. Jensen smiled at him, a real smile, one that reached his eyes, and Jared couldn't help it, he leaned over and kissed him.

It was a little awkward and a lot rushed, definitely not the best kiss in the world--and if Jared knew that, he didn't want to think about what Jensen thought of it--except for how it was, because it was Jensen and he was kissing Jared back, one hand tilting Jared's head a little while the other cupped his shoulder, holding him steady.

They broke apart after a bit, both of them breathless, and Jared's heart was pounding so hard he thought it might jump out of his chest. "Um," he said, sounding like a complete idiot. "I--"

"You haven't screwed anything up," Jensen repeated. "You've only been here a couple of weeks and I can't even remember what it was like not having you around, and I forget how young you are, and…" He shook his head once, and then took Jared's hand, running his thumb lightly over the knuckles. "And this probably isn't a good idea, just because of that."

"I'm not--I've had sex before," Jared said, heat rising in his face enough that he knew he had to be turning bright red, which was probably killing any cool he had, but he didn't want Jensen to think he was corrupting him or anything stupid like that. "With guys and girls, and, and, yeah. It's not--I've just never actually felt like this. About anyone."

"You are really young, though," Jensen said, quiet and steady and as much as Jared wanted to yell that it didn't matter, it did. It did matter, and he knew it and having a tantrum about it was only going to reinforce everything that Jensen was putting out there.

"I won't be for forever," Jared said, not thinking about how he didn't have forever, just staying there, in the moment. It was more than he'd ever expected to have anyway, and he was really good at taking the good for what it was and doing his best to ignore the rest.

"No," Jensen agreed. "You won't. But--"

Whatever Jensen was going to say got cut off by the dogs whining, and the winds shifting to the sudden chill of a storm blowing up, fast.

"We should probably get home," Jensen said instead of whatever he'd been going to say before and Jared silently promised all three dogs every piece of meat he could get his hands on.

"Yeah, we should get back," Jared said, deliberately not saying "home," like that would keep him from jinxing everything. He whistled for the dogs and followed Jensen, pushing his bike back up to the road.

"Last one home has to clean up the dogs," Jensen called, already starting off.

"You're so going to lose that one," Jared answered, and took off after him.

***

The storm broke right as Jared made the final turn toward the gardens and the kitchen door. He charged into the kitchen, groping for the light switch in the gloom. The kitchen, never the brightest of rooms, was especially dark and shadowed with the heavy clouds outside, and Jared wasn't surprised to find the power out either. It wasn't only the plumbing that needed re-doing.

He caught the flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned in time to catch Rosy sneaking in the door.

"What are you doing here," Jared asked, ducking out of the way when Rosy came for him, hissing at him to be quiet.

"What am I doing here?" Rosy didn't look good, his clothes rumpled and spotted and his head looking like it needed a shave. "The question is what the hell are you doing here, because I don't think it's what you're supposed to be doing."

"I've been all over this house," Jared said, in a furious whisper. "In the attics and the basements, and looking under all the beds, even. There's nothing about an eclipse, not anywhere--"

"Jen?" Lady Frances called from upstairs. "Is that you?"

"Get her out of here," Rosy hissed. "Now, you useless brat."

"It's me," Jared answered. "Jen's drying off the dogs; he said he'll be right in." He turned around to see Rosy pawing through the set of silver, still in its wooden chest on the kitchen table. "Hey--what do you think you're doing?"

"Oh, this will do nicely," Rosy said, hefting the chest up under his arm. "I can dump this in London and get the bookies off my back until you do your job and find that gold."

"You can't just walk out of here with that!"

"Yeah, and who's going to stop me?" Rosy sneered. "The old lady? You?" He shoved Jared out of his way, hard enough that Jared stumbled back into the table.

"Yeah," Jared said. "Me."

He chased after Rosy, catching up to him as he climbed into the tiny car and grabbing onto the door, yelling at him the whole time. Rosy slapped at him, pounding at Jared's hold on the door while he cranked the engine. Jared held on desperately, even when Rosy backed the car around in a circle. He'd yelled loud enough that the dogs had heard him; they were barking like crazy and the sound was getting closer, but before they could get there Rosy accelerated while he turned and Jared was thrown off to the side by the car's momentum. He stumbled and hit the ground hard, and everything went black.

***

Jared was in a bed; he knew that much. He remembered the rain and the sick feeling of being thrown by the car. He remembered the dogs, too, licking his face and whining; and Jensen, shouting for Jeffrey and for Lady Frances to ring the doctor.

He wasn't at the house, when he opened his eyes; he never recognized the room, but Lady Frances was always there, and so, too, was Jensen. They were holding his hand and telling him to rest, to be still, and he knew they weren't going to want him around, not once they knew the truth, so he closed his eyes and let everything be a lie, just for a little bit longer.

***

When he woke up and the light didn't feel like it was driving a pickaxe into his head, Jensen was there and he said the constable needed to talk to Jared if he felt up to it. Jared thought about taking that out, but he'd only have to deal with it later, so he nodded and answered the guy's questions in a monotone: he'd come in from the rain and the lights weren't working. He'd surprised a man in the kitchen stealing things and chased after him. No, he hadn't seen his face; everything had happened too fast. The constable took a few notes and then left, telling Jensen to ring him if Jared remembered anything more.

Jensen's face was serious when he came back to sit next to Jared. "Gran said she called down and you told her I'd be right in, and the next thing she knew, the dogs are bellowing at the top of their not-inconsiderable lungs and she comes out of the house to find me trying to get you off the ground. He was in the house when she called to you, wasn't he? You put her off, because he was already there. You had to have seen him."

"Don't," Jared whispered. "It's--it was dark. I couldn't see anything."

"Jared," Jensen said, very quietly, and nobody had ever said his name like that, like he mattered. Jared told himself to stop making things worse; thinking that way was crazy and stupid and useless. "Whatever he said, she'll be safe. She's the Dowager Marchioness. The Eighth is already raising bloody hell with anyone who can't run away fast enough."

"She's still an old lady," Jared grated out. "She still can be hurt. What if she hadn't listened? What if she'd come down to the kitchen then? And besides, it's not just--" He shut his mouth with a snap, wishing hard to be unconscious again.

Jensen got him a drink, water with a bent straw so he could drink it more easily, and when Jared was finished, Jensen put the cup down and took Jared's hand. "It's not just what, Jared?"

"It's not just her," Jared said, closing his eyes.

"No, I know that," Jensen said, pushing up the short sleeve of the stupid hospital gown and touching the fading but still visible bruises from where Rosy had grabbed Jared that night in the graveyard.

Jared kept his eyes closed, and after a second Jensen smoothed his sleeve back down.

"You have to know that she won't let anything happen to you," Jensen said. "We won't--"

"Right," Jared burst out. "Sure. Because you'll take care of me, even though I--even though I…" To his horror, his throat closed up and he had to stop talking before he started crying. One sob choked out, but then he swallowed hard and got himself under control. "Besides, that's not what--who I meant."

"Who, then?" Jensen asked, pressing. "You can't think I'll sit here and let someone be hurt--"

"Yeah, see, that's the thing," Jared said. "My friend, he's not a someone. He's not anyone. He's just a guy like me, a nobody. He's a whore, okay? He works Hollywood Boulevard and if he doesn't show up one day, well, who's going to notice? Or care, if they even notice."

Jared was crying now, the sobs spilling out and he couldn't make himself stop. Jensen sat there and held his hand, wouldn't let it go even when Jared tried to take his hand away, not until whatever it was finished wringing Jared out and he could breathe without choking, and even then it was only to cross over to the door and call for Jeffrey.

"We haven't been entirely honest with you," Jensen said, softly. "I'm sorry about that, but this is too important. Jeffrey did live here, growing up, but he's a Detective Inspector, now, with Scotland Yard. I think he might be able to help your friend."

Once Jensen explained what was going on, Jeffrey fired off question after question to Jared: who was his friend and where did he live? What section of town did he work; did he work with a pimp; who would know him; how would someone get in touch with him? Jared answered as best he could, but his head was pounding again, and he was sickeningly aware that Chad would probably never speak to him again for bringing all this shit down on him.

Jensen finally nodded toward the door and Jeffrey left, promising to be in touch soon. A nurse came in with a lot of pills in little white cups, and Jared was happy not to have to talk. He expected Jensen to leave, but he didn't, just sat back down and laid his hand on top of Jared's and told him everything would be all right. Right as Jared finally slid back into sleep, he thought Jensen leaned up and kissed him on the forehead, but that probably wasn't anything but the drugs and his own stupid subconscious.

***

Jensen was still there when Jared opened his eyes again, and so was Lady Frances.

"I'm sorry--" Jared said, his voice stuck in his throat, so it came out a whisper, but she heard and shook her head and wouldn't let him finish.

"No, I don't want to hear it, Jared. I knew perfectly well something was wrong with your Mr. Rosenbaum, and I will never forgive myself for letting this happen to you." Her voice was stern and fierce. "What I don't understand is what he thought he could gain by all this. It's common knowledge that I took nothing from David's estate; everything is entailed to the next Marquess, and my family, while being very comfortable, certainly has never had anything one would consider grand, other than the house."

"Captain Joshua's treasure," Jared said, quietly. "I was supposed to find it for him, and he was going to give me some of it."

Lady Frances stared at Jared blankly. "Oh, my dear--but we've all decided that was nothing but a myth. Everyone's had a go at looking for it, for generations. I spent weeks and weeks crawling all over the house as a child."

"I did, too," Jensen added. "I think we all have and nothing's ever come to light. Not a single solitary thing."

Jared shrugged, still not meeting their eyes. "They had a letter from the Captain. And there were two pieces of gold with it. They'd had it for years, and then they found me, and told me about how to pretend to be your grandson--" Jared couldn't help but see the look that flashed between Jensen and Lady Frances at that, but he kept on. "And so I came and I searched and I found more."

"Wait, actual clues?" Jensen sounded shocked.

"Two of them," Jared said. "One in the library and one in the churchyard."

"Good heavens," Lady Frances said faintly. "Captain Joshua's treasure."

***

The doctors allowed Jared to leave the hospital, so long as he promised to stay quiet and restful. Lady Frances promised for him, too, with a steely glint in her eye that almost made Jared want to stay for longer. He was pretty sure he was okay, but the news that he'd been in the hospital for three days kind of set him back a little. Lady Frances had her Land Rover at the hospital, so they packed up in that and she drove them all home, pointing out that she was obeying each and every posted speed limit and easing on and off the brakes with especial care. Jensen claimed it was like a miracle, not to have to hold on for his life while driving with her. If he was joking to put Jared at ease, he didn't seem to mind being able to tease Lady Frances at the same time.

When they got home, Jared took them into the library and showed them the stained glass and they imagined for themselves how the light might shine through to illuminate the wall. Then they got back in the car and Lady Frances drove them to the church where Jared showed them the tombstone of Thomas Gray.

"He followed the eclipse for riches and fame; and, if ye would prosper, do ye the same, " Jensen read.

"That's all, though," Jared said. "I couldn't find out anything about an eclipse--"

"Oh, that's quite simple," Lady Frances said. "The Eclipse was Captain Joshua's ship." She paused dramatically as they stared at her. "And there is a painting of him on that very ship at home, in his study."

They all turned and ran for the car, and Jensen didn't say a word about how fast Lady Frances drove on the way back to the house. They piled out and were ready to run for the study when Lady Frances reminded them both that Jared was supposed to be resting and that it wouldn't do to have him back in hospital. Jared insisted he was fine, and even if he wasn't they were talking about a real pirate treasure, but Jensen agreed with Lady Frances, so they walked very, very quickly into the house and back to the old study.

"I almost never come in here," Lady Frances said. "It's all so dark, all heavy fabrics and dark paneling, and yes, Jensen, I know perfectly well that I could change it all, but I'm--"

"Old-fashioned," Jared and Jensen said, together.

"Yes, well, and it's a good thing that I am," Lady Frances said severely, though the corner of her mouth twitched. "If I wasn't, I would have gotten rid of this old monstrosity years ago," she gestured toward the painting, "and then where would we be?"

"Quite right, as usual, Gran," Jensen said, and they all turned to look at the painting. Jensen went and pulled the heavy drapes back off the window, and Jared took the painting off the wall so they could look at it more closely. It was Captain Joshua, standing on the deck of his ship, accepting the surrender of a Spanish captain.

"Captain Joshua's sword," Lady Frances said, pointing. "It's cutting through a piece of paper and it looks as though there's writing on it."

Jensen got down on his hands and knees to try to make out the words.

"Underfoot, in the Great Hall," he read. "Look high, look low, discover all."

"In the Great Hall," Lady Frances said. "After all this time, all the days and days everyone in the family spent searching and the old pirate hid it in the Great Hall?"

Jared smothered a smile at the outrage in her voice; when he looked, Jensen was doing the same.

"Very well, then, back to the Great Hall we shall go," Lady Frances said, leading the way and muttering about jumped-up seamen who had issues with paying proper taxes and ended up running their families through untold, ridiculous contortions in order to keep their precious estates. Jared got about one word in three, but Jensen looked as though he was enjoying it all quite a bit.

The Great Hall was gloomy and shadowed; outside the weather had turned, and the clouds were blowing in. Jensen went along the wall and turned the great chandeliers on one by one until the whole room was brightly lit and they stood in the middle of the polished mahogany floor and turned round and round, looking.

"Under foot, in the Great Hall," Jensen started.

"Look high, look low, discover all," Jared finished.

"Not much of a poet, was he?" Lady Frances said. "What on earth do you think he meant?"

"Well," Jared said, thinking about the other clues. "He was big on plays on words. Like the whole Thomas Gray in a country churchyard thing. And how you had to be in the library at sunrise."

"So…" Lady Frances said, doubtfully. "We should be looking under foot?" They all stared at the floor.

"But we're also supposed to be looking high," Jensen said. "Which is good, because this mahogany is harder than stone after all these years."

"All right, let's split up and work our way around the walls, and see if something looks peculiar." Lady Frances pointed them to opposite corners of the room. Jared went to the farthest edge obediently and did his best, scanning along the ceiling and along the floor, but not seeing anything that screamed, "Buried treasure, RIGHT HERE."

"Any idea of what we might be looking for would be appreciated, Gran," Jensen called, and Jared was about to agree when one of the glassed-in doors that led out to the formal garden burst open and Rosy and Tommy all but fell into the room. Jared started to laugh at what idiots they were, but then he saw the gun in Rosy's hand, and it really, really wasn't funny anymore.

"See, I knew I couldn't trust you," Rosy said to Jared, motioning him down toward where Lady Frances was standing. "I knew you'd be double-crossing me, so I've been keeping an eye on you, and what do I see but you showing off the clue in the graveyard to these two."

"Yeah, because I owe you so much for putting me in the hospital," Jared said.

"I guess you really don't care about the pretty little rentboy you left behind, either," Tommy said, and Jared didn't have any answer for that. Tommy knew it, too; his expression was triumphant.

"I can certainly see that you've not progressed on any meaningful level since you were dismissed, Welling," Lady Frances said, with an edge to her voice that Jared had never heard before.

"Yeah, well, as nice as it would be to chat about old times," Rosy said, "we're in a little bit of a hurry, so if we could get on with it, we'll be gone before you know it. And as a bonus, we'll even take the kid off your hands, too."

"I think not," Lady Frances said crisply, dropping her purse on the floor, and shooting the gun out of Rosy's hand with a little two-shot pistol. Jared just stood there with his mouth open, but to be fair, so did everyone for a couple of seconds, and then everything exploded into action, Jensen shouting at Lady Frances about how she'd promised to stop carrying weaponry around in her purse, even while he was throwing himself toward the gun that had bounced halfway across the room, and Tommy yelling at Rosy, because he'd promised the old lady would be an easy mark, and Rosy cursing steadily, shoving Tommy off him and running down the length of the Great Hall, aiming right for Lady Frances.

Jared was moving before he even thought, right at Rosy, as fast as he could. He dropped his shoulder at the last second and hit him low and hard, but even doing it perfect, Jared was still just a skinny kid, and he couldn't quite bring Rosy down. They staggered sideways, though, slamming into one of the columns that lined the room, hard enough that Jared heard it creak and groan, the plaster crumbling under the extra stress.

"Jared!" Jensen shouted, and Jared threw himself backward, just in time to miss the avalanche of plaster and wood raining down from the little balcony the column had held up. The statue that had been up there toppled slowly to the side, sliding down amid a crash of plaster dust and splintered wood, neatly trapping Rosy behind it, and right as Jeffrey appeared, yet another gun in his hand, there was the sound of a gentle rain of coins, dozens and dozens of them, all gold, spilling out of the chest the statue had had his foot on.

"Well," sniffed Lady Frances. "I don't know why none of us ever thought of it before. Joshua was just the sort of conceited ass to have hidden his treasure under the statue he had commissioned of himself."

Jared sat down right in the middle of the floor. Tommy cursed from where Jeffrey was handcuffing him and Rosy cursed even louder from where he was trapped behind the debris. Jared felt a slow smile spreading across his face, one that was echoed on Jensen's.

"Holy crap," he breathed, finishing off in unison with Jensen. "Buried treasure!"

***

Things had started to settle down, the local constable having arrived to collect Rosy and Tommy, and a swarm of lawyers and accountants and Jared didn't even know who else sweeping down from London to deal with the gold and the whole situation in and of itself, when a battered Land Rover drove up to the door and Jensen groaned.

"Oh, hell, here we go," he muttered to Jared, as he went to open the door. "Hello, sir," he said, stepping back to let a white-haired man in. "She's in her office."

"She is, is she? I can't wait to hear the explanation for this one." The old guy patted Jensen on the shoulder, and shot a speculative glance at Jared, but headed off straight down the hallway.

"That's the Marquess," Jensen explained. "The current one, the eighth one."

"He's her stepson?" Jared asked, because if anything the old guy looked way more ancient than Lady Frances. Jensen shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess. She's only a couple of years older than he is, and I think they used to have a lot of fun with that. They've always been good friends, though. He's about the only person in the world who isn't afraid of her when she gets her back up."

Faintly, Jared could hear shouting from down the hall.

"I told you he was going to be furious, and she doesn't like it when people tell her she's being stubborn." Jensen shrugged again. "Especially when she knows it's true."

"Does he know about me?" Jared asked.

"Probably," Jensen answered. "He was pretty involved at the time of the accident; I'm sure she spoke to him as soon as she got the letter--"

"No," Jared said. "I meant, does he know about me being a part of trying to rip her off?"

"Jared," Jensen sighed.

"Don't, Jen." Jared stared at his hands. "Be real, okay?"

Jensen was quiet for a couple of seconds, and when he answered, his voice was low and serious. "I am being real. She knew there was something wrong, right from the start, even before you got here. That's why she contacted Jeffrey." Jensen waited until Jared looked up; his face matched his voice. "What she said at the hospital, about feeling responsible for you getting hurt… She meant every word."

Jared shook his head, but before he could say anything more he heard the door to Lady Frances's office open, and the Marquess walked out as calmly as he'd walked in.

"Oxford, eh?" He stopped and shook hands with Jensen. "Classics, at Pembroke, from what Frances has said. Heard all about the first in Mods. Quite commendable. You'll have to step it up for finals, though."

"Yes, sir; thank you," Jensen said, flushing a little. "I'll definitely be working hard this next year."

"Good man," the Marquess said. "I was Trinity myself, but I suppose it all comes out even in the end." He turned and looked at Jared, and Jared did his best to meet his eyes. Jensen stepped up behind Jared, not saying anything, just there, close and warm and solid.

They stayed like that for what seemed like forever to Jared, but then the Marquess nodded at the bruise not quite hidden under Jared's bangs, and said, "You take care of that, young man."

"Yes, sir," Jared managed to say, and the Marquess nodded again and left. Jensen put his hand on the back of Jared's neck and Jared stood there and tried not to think about how good it felt.

***

Jensen started to give him the it-doesn't-matter speech again, but Jared's head was pounding and the bruises on his ribs and shoulder were sore and aching. Something of all that must have shown in his face, because Jensen broke off and herded him up to his room, producing the pain-killers and a glass of water once they were there.

"Do you want me to pull the curtains?" The sky was still blowing clouds, but had cleared to see the afternoon sun fading toward twilight. Even if Jared lay down on the bed, he'd still be able to see a sliver of the pond.

"I'm okay," Jared said, pretending he didn't notice Jensen rolling his eyes and muttering, "Stubborn."

"I'm sure Mrs. Priory's reaction to all this is going to involve enough food to feed an army, but don't feel as though you have to come down if you're not feeling up to it."

Jared nodded and Jensen turned the lights out and closed the door quietly behind him. Jared settled on his side, finding the one angle that was a little more comfortable, his eyes still on the darkening sky outside the window. He needed to start thinking about what was going to happen next, but the drugs kicked in and he let himself drift on them, promising that he'd face everything later.

***

Jared never actually slept, but being quiet and still made him feel better, enough that when there was a soft, light tap on the door--so quiet he would never have heard it if he hadn't been awake--he got up and went to open the door. He expected it to be Jensen, and had what he thought would be a pretty convincing no-really-I'm-fine speech ready to go. It was Lady Frances, though, and the words got stuck in his throat.

"Jensen said you were resting," she said. "But I thought I'd just check."

She reached up and touched the bruise on the side of his forehead, brushing his hair back as she did. He stood there like an idiot, not knowing what to say, the reality of the gold he'd done his best to steal from her overwhelming everything else.

"We've done a very poor job of following the doctor's orders," she said. "Not much quiet and calm."

"I'm okay," Jared whispered. He started to shrug, but went still as she brushed her hand over the scar against his hair.

"I remember this," she said. "So much blood for such a small boy."

Jared stumbled back, shaking his head. "I'm not--they told me all that stuff." He didn't let himself think about how he knew the right way to find the secret hiding place in the fireplace, because that couldn't have been anything more than a lucky guess. "They told me about the scars and the house, and, and, I'm not even allergic to strawberries, okay? I love them."

"Children often outgrow their allergies, especially when the reaction is first observed at a very young age," Lady Frances said, her voice very gentle. "You got into the strawberry patch before you were even a year old, and your rash was quite mild. We avoided them more to keep from having to dose you with antihistamines than out of any real fear."

"But--"

"You look very much like your father," Lady Frances said. "And then, occasionally, you turn just so, and I see my Anna in your smile."

"I don't--I can't--" Jared's heart was pounding hard enough that he thought it might jump out of his chest, and he had to swallow hard before he could talk again. "You can't know that for sure."

"No," Lady Frances said. "I can't, not quite yet, but I have some pictures I'd like you to see." Jared let her lead him from the room, down the big staircase at the front of the house and into the drawing room where they'd first had tea. Jensen was there, and Jeffrey, too.

"Judging from the pole-axed look on his face, you told him," Jeffrey said. Jensen didn't say anything, only shifted over so Jared could sit next to him.

"I did," Lady Frances said. "Jared, dear, I didn't tell you earlier, because I didn't want to tease you with the possibility, but the longer this has gone on, the more completely unfair it seemed that you not know, too."

Jensen put his hand on top of Jared's, where it sat on his knee, and Jared held on tight to him, not caring how stupid or desperate he seemed.

"I've only ever seen pictures," Jensen said. "But Jeffrey lived here then, and he agrees with Gran."

"Your grandmother sent me the picture that came with the letter and I couldn't argue with her. In person, the resemblance is even more striking." Jeffrey said it, said grandmother, with a sort of easy conviction that rocked Jared back a little more.

"I've received dozens of inquiries like that first letter over the years," Lady Frances said. "I would have dismissed it completely, except for your photograph. Even then, I didn't trust myself until Jeffrey agreed that the likeness was enough that we had to respond. He gave up his holiday and came down to keep an eye on things, especially once we saw you in person."

"That night I met you outside," Jared said, looking at Jeffrey. "I thought you were following me."

"I knew something was off," Jeffrey said. "I should have pushed it right then and there, but none of us thought you were in danger."

"I was okay, until I--he was taking things, stealing right in front of me, and I … don't know," Jared said. "The treasure wasn't real, you know? It was nothing but this stupid story he was spinning, but taking stuff out of the house, stuff you'd decided you wanted…" Jared took a deep breath. "I--he came and got me and brought me here and nobody was going to care what happened to me. I knew that, but … It just made me so mad, him stealing that stuff."

"Let me be perfectly clear about this, Jared," Lady Frances said. "No matter what the medical testing reveals, nothing, nothing, is worth you being hurt."

Jensen squeezed his hand a little and Jared nodded once. Mrs. Priory came in then, to tell them it was time for tea and she didn't want to hear anything about anyone not having an appetite. Lady Frances sniffed, but led them all down to the kitchen. Jensen had been right earlier: Mrs. Priory had made enough food to feed twenty people, all kinds of things that were comforting and homey, things that Jared had discovered since he'd been there.

"Heavens," Lady Frances said, surveying the table. "Macaroni cheese and a cottage pie?"

"And a chocolate cake," Mrs. Priory said firmly.

It was good, but what was better was that Jensen didn't let go of Jared's hand the whole time.

***

The rest of the night was as much of a blur; later, Jared remembered a box full of pictures in frames, people getting married and babies being christened, picnics and garden parties, and nobody had to tell him why they were so sure he was the one Lady Frances had been looking for because seeing some of the pictures was like looking into a faded mirror. He remembered when he used to make up what his parents, his real parents, looked like, but he didn't think he'd ever dared to make them look as happy as the pictures he held in his hands. It was almost too much for his brain to process, and he'd never been more relieved to go to bed and not have to think about anything.

The next morning was better. His head didn't hurt nearly as much, and moving around loosened up his muscles. Lady Frances was on the phone non-stop, but Mrs. Priory loaded so much food onto the table in the morning room that Jared was afraid it might break. By the time he was finished, though, there wasn't all that much left, which absolutely proved how awesome Mrs. Priory was.

Jeffrey came in while Jared was trying to decide if he really could eat more toast (more bacon was a given, but toast was a little bit lower on the food chain, even with all the jam he could heap onto it.)

"About your friend--the one they threatened--" Jeffrey said. "I talked to a few people I know in Los Angeles, and they managed to track him down. They made sure he was all right, gave him a little warning about the threats."

"He's okay?" Jared had to clear his throat twice before the words came out right.

"He's fine, and I don't think we have anything to worry about with those two in custody."

"Thank you," Jared said, his breath rushing out. "Really, thanks. I--he's a friend, and--"

"Happy we could find him," Jeffrey said, sounding like he meant it. He gave Jared a phone number, too, something that had been passed back from the California people, from Chad. All of it, the whole conversation, was friendly enough enough for Jared to work up the nerve to ask if Jeffrey was the one who'd thrown Tommy out when he'd worked there before.

"That would have been my father, but I did hear all about it."

"Cool," Jared said. "He was still running scared, you know."

"I'll be sure to pass that along." Jeffrey grinned, and Jared found himself smiling back. "It'll make his day."

So, yeah, the morning went along pretty well, and best of all, once Jensen came out of his morning fog, he looked at Jared like nothing had changed and asked him if he felt up to dealing with the dogs.

The answer was so much yes that Jared tripped over his own stupid feet on his way out of the room, but it didn't matter. Jensen only rolled his eyes and the dogs practically tackled Jared as soon as he stepped outside.

"They missed you," Jensen said, sitting down on the steps and watching with a smile on his face. "I took them out every day, but they weren't happy about it."

Jared finally went ahead and lay back and let the dogs climb all over him, licking and whining and nosing at him, like they were making sure he was okay. He didn't think he was supposed to hear Jensen add, "I wasn't happy about it either," so he buried his face in the wriggling mass of fur on top of him until he could stop smiling.

Jensen wouldn't let him run, so they fell back on the old favorite of throwing sticks for the dogs to chase and bring back as they cut across the fields down to the stream. The dogs dove in, barking and chasing shadows in the water, while Jared and Jensen flopped down on the bank.

"This is good," Jensen said, leaning back on his elbows and making a face every time one of the dogs--or Jared--splashed him. "Maybe a bit more excitement than my normal stay, but still good."

"It's still just a visit, though," Jared said, his brain finally waking up to reality. "Your family…"

"They're in Singapore now," Jensen said. "I always come and spend some time with Gran before I go to them for the rest of summer holidays. I'll be back in September, though," he added. "Before next term starts."

"Yeah," Jared said, shoving down his disappointment. "Yeah, of course."

"They have phones there," Jensen said, and he was teasing a little but he was serious, too, Jared realized. Jared ducked his head and Jensen got all the way serious. "I mean it, Jared--you can talk to me anytime."

"Right." Jared nodded slowly. "Sorry. I'm not--it's not really sticking that I'm not going anywhere." He hadn't thought about it. If he turned his head, he'd be able to see the house; he didn't know quite how to deal with it being where he lived for real.

"You're not," Jensen said. "That must be--Is that strange?"

"I--there's never been any place that's been home," Jared admitted. "It's not even the house so much, just… I've never stayed anywhere before. And now…"

"And now you're here," Jensen said. "But it's for as long as you want."

Jared shook his head because he really didn't know how to explain things to Jensen, how him wanting anything hadn't counted for much. He wasn't sure that he even wanted to try.

"I am going to want to know what's going on," Jensen continued. "Even the things you think aren't worth mentioning."

"Okay," Jared said. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure, and it's settled." Jensen sat up and pried a stick loose from Sadie's mouth and tossed it away again.

***

Jared worked through the time difference between England and California twice, just to be sure he got it right, and decided that midnight would probably be the best time to try to call. Lady Frances had looked him over with careful eyes when he'd asked how to make an international call, but wrote the calling codes down for him without any comment.

He expected to only get voicemail, so he stumbled a little when Chad answered on the first ring, but it didn't matter. Chad barely let him say hello.

"Holy shit, Jared, what the fuck is going on?" Usually, Chad sounded bored and lazy, with a permanent smirk to his tone, but right then his voice went so high it almost cracked. "First you fucking disappear, and that stupid cow of a social worker won't tell me a goddamn thing--"

"Wait, you went looking for me?" They'd hung out together, sure, but Chad had his life and Jared was just the kid who looked out for his dog.

"Of course I went looking for you, you moron." Jared heard rustling noises, and knew Chad was reaching for the pack of cigarettes he always had in his pocket. "Fat lot of good it did, but yeah," he inhaled deeply, "I kinda got into it with her. She fucking sucks at lying; I knew she knew something. Didn't leave until she threatened to call the cops, but even then I told her I'd be keeping an eye on her. I did, too, at least until she up and quit."

"Chad, man," Jared said, after a second or two where he couldn't find his voice. "That's--thanks."

"No problem," Chad answered, and they sat in silence again. "So, uh, yeah, everybody was pretending like there's nothing going on, and then I get off-duty Vice knocking on my door telling me to lay low for a while?"

"Man, I am so sorry about that," Jared said, wincing. "I didn't know they were gonna be cops--they just said they'd try to get somebody to find you."

"Well," Chad said, and Jared heard him light another cigarette. "I never saw a badge or nothin', but trust me. I know Vice boys when I see them."

"Yeah," Jared said. "I guess you do."

"And, y'know, I appreciate the heads-up that some douche wants to off me, regardless of who's telling me."

"I…" Jared hadn't actually planned on this; he'd just wanted to leave a message, let Chad know he'd gotten the number, and now that it was all there in front of him, he wasn't exactly sure where to start.

"Dude," Chad said finally. "Spill." He was back to the bored voice, like he couldn't care less what Jared had to say, but Jared knew better. He took a deep breath and just said it, straight up. Chad kept interrupting, a non-stop stream of holy shit and no fucking way, so it took a while, but they got through everything eventually.

"Man," Chad said. "That is too fucking freaky."

"I know," Jared answered. "I--it happened to me and it doesn't feel real. I don't know exactly what's happening next, except I guess I'm staying here."

"Yeah, well, it is real," Chad said, suddenly serious. "And freaky or not, it doesn't sound half bad, so yeah, you're damn right you're staying there."

"Yeah," Jared said, relaxing a little. "I guess I am."

***

Jensen had a flight to Singapore booked for the next week, and Jared bounced back and forth between being happy for every little bit of time and feeling like counting down the days was slow torture. He didn't have much time to think about it either way, though, because Lady Frances kept them so busy Jared could barely keep his eyes open long enough to pull the comforter over his head as he fell into bed every night.

She'd put the whole thing with the National Trust people on hold, so he and Jensen dragged all the trunks and boxes and barrels they'd taken down out of the attics back up, which took most of two days and left the two of them sneezing their heads off from the dust they were stirring up. Once they got that done to everyone's satisfaction (everyone being Lady Frances and Mrs. Priory because neither Jared nor Jensen cared the slightest bit how the stuff was arranged in the attics) they piled everything Lady Frances deemed worthy of the church jumble sale into her Land Rover and drove it all down to the village to be unloaded.

Helping out with the jumble sale the next morning--setting up tents and dragging out tables and running back and forth to help carry boxes--was a mini-vacation, if only because they were done with the hard labor before ten in the morning. Lady Frances shooed them off to have a good time, and since there was an entire section devoted to a bake sale, that wasn't hard to accomplish that. Later in the afternoon, there were people Lady Frances wanted Jared to meet: the headmaster at the local school and some of the kids who went there. It was okay--way less boring than he expected, but a little weird, too. They were nice and all, and one of the girls flirted with him some, but they were focused on things like uniforms and Pony Club (whatever that was) and Scout trips.

He ended up talking with Carrie, one of the older girls; she was eighteen and finished with school, working at a local golf club to earn a bit of money before she left to spend eight months of her gap year with Habitat for Humanity.

Jensen came over during the last part, and he and Carrie compared notes on taking a year off. "Mine was nothing very exciting, but I'm still glad I did it."

"Why do you do that?" Jared asked him later, while they were waiting for Lady Frances to finish up so they could go home. "Say that everything you like is boring or dull…?"

"Because it is," Jensen said. "I'm doing Classics--I spend my days in a library, translating bits of Greek poetry."

"But you like it, right?" Jared waited until Jensen nodded, then said firmly, "Then it's cool."

Jensen shook his head, but Jared saw his mouth curve up in a half-smile, so he didn't feel bad at all about bringing the subject up.

The next day really was a day off, but only because the lawyers were coming down again to talk about everything that had happened, Jared's legal status, and what was going to happen next. Jared would rather have carried every stick of furniture in the house up and down the stairs than deal with them, but he didn't have much choice. Even worse, he had to wear a tie.

It took forever, and they kept wanting to skip things, but Lady Frances wouldn't let them move on until Jared understood everything they were telling him, which was mostly that if the DNA tests came back the way everybody was expecting them to, he would legally be a citizen of both the US and England, and that there was a small trust in his name that had never been dissolved after his disappearance. He was still a little shaky at translating English money to dollars, but they'd had to explain about trusts twice before it penetrated that they were talking about money that was his, so he figured he'd work out the amount on his own later.

There were a ton of papers that had to be signed, and the lawyers all said they'd be back once the DNA tests came in, to finalize things, but once they translated all the legal stuff, it came down to Jared officially being a ward of Lady Frances. There was one extra lawyer on the phone, representing the family in the US, but she said they had no problem with formal custody resting with Lady Frances, so long as they were able to visit.

Jared looked helplessly at Lady Frances as she answered that she had more bedrooms than she knew what to do with and they were welcome any time. As stupid as it made him sound, he hadn't even gotten through the part where she might be his family, let alone that there'd be more.

Lady Frances wanted him to stay through the discussions about the treasure, too. It was at some auction house in London, waiting for the proper timing for the market. The numbers they were talking about there absolutely didn't sound real, but he got through everything until they started talking about him again, about schools and transferring educational records. He had to ask them to stop, then. Or, really, he just sat there and laughed, because school hadn't been anything he'd ever cared about before, and his brain sure as hell wasn't going along the same path everybody else's was.

Lady Frances called a halt at that point, and sent all the lawyers back to London, and after the last car left, she came and found Jared on the bench by the pond. She still wore her blue silk dress, but she had a paper bag with her that Jared knew was full of bread crusts for the ducks.

"School is--I was counting the days 'til I could drop out," Jared said as soon as she sat down, because she might as well know the truth. "Nobody really would have cared, least of all me, and now..." He shrugged helplessly.

"We'll sort things out, find the best way to fill in whatever gaps are in your background. The local comprehensive has an excellent reputation, and I'm certain we'll be able to find you a bit of extra help if necessary." She sat and watched the ducks for a bit. "I know all this must be quite overwhelming, but it's not too early to start thinking about what you might like to do. Go into business or study law or become a gameskeeper, if that's what sounds right. It doesn't matter what you do, just that it's something you enjoy. There's no rush, Jared. But it's something you can think about now."

Jared nodded and took the bread from her, throwing it long and wide so the ducks would spread out on the water. "I'm pretty sure studying law is out, but I'll think about it. I promise."

Jared wasn't going to think about it right then, though, because it was Jensen's last night. His flight was in the late morning, but instead of spending the night in London, near the airport, he'd insisted he'd be fine getting up early and leaving then.

"Mrs. Priory's breakfasts are worth a little extra effort," he'd said, which of course meant that she'd be making every single one of his favorites in the morning.

Lady Frances left them alone as soon as dinner was through, and they ended up watching old movies that Jensen loved but Jared had never heard of before. The house was dark and quiet, Mrs. Priory had found popcorn for them, and the only thing that wasn't awesome about the whole night was how jumpy Jared was about Jensen missing the flight because of his general hatred of mornings. He kept checking his watch until Jensen finally reached out and put his hand firmly over Jared's. Jared almost stopped breathing, but Jensen didn't move, kept watching the movie, and they fell asleep like that--almost, but not quite, holding hands.

Jared woke up a couple of hours later, the TV showing nothing but snow and the dogs all snoring. Jensen was awake, too; Jared thought that might have been what woke him. It was quiet in the house, and mostly quiet outside, as though they were the only two awake for miles.

"It's going to be really weird when you're gone," Jared whispered. "I'm going to miss you."

"Me, too," Jensen answered, his eyes open and unguarded. It was the easiest thing in the world for Jared to reach out and slide his free hand along Jensen's jaw, warm skin and the slight scratch of stubble on his palm, but it still was a surprise to end up in a kiss, a slow, careful press of his mouth against Jensen's. It was a thousand times better than their first kiss had been, which was great, but what was even more awesome was that Jared was sure they could get better still.

Jensen turned his hand and laced their fingers together, and Jared smiled into the kiss even as Jensen eased back. It was okay; he only went a little way and ended up resting his forehead against Jared's. He was smiling, too.

"You should go to bed," Jared said, before Jensen could worry more about how old Jared was or wasn't. "You won't be awake enough to eat everything Mrs. Priory's going to fix for you and then she'll be offended and end up liking me best."

"I think I'm going to lose that battle regardless," Jensen said, playing along. "No way am I going to be able to keep up with you." He let Jared tug him to his feet and steer him toward the back stairs.

Jared went upstairs carefully, so the steps wouldn't creak and wake anyone else up, so no one would interrupt this little world they were in. Jensen moved just as carefully, stopping when they got to his bedroom door.

"Jare--" he started, and Jared shook his head.

"It's okay, Jen." Jared squeezed Jensen's hand before he let it drop. "I'm okay."

"What if I'm not?"

"You are." Jared took a deep breath. "Everything you're worried about, it's--I get it, okay?" He left out the part where he was discovering this huge well of determination inside him and, maybe even more strangely, something to be determined about. "We're okay."

Jensen looked at him for a long minute, but then nodded. "I'll see you in the morning, before I go?"

"Yeah, like I'm going to miss out on that breakfast," Jared said, keeping it as light as he could. Jensen laughed softly, which meant Jared had gotten it exactly right, and they split up. Jared left the curtains in his room open,so the sun would wake him, and then set the alarm clock to be absolutely sure, because there was no way he was oversleeping.

***

Jared gave himself a pep talk on the way down to breakfast in the morning, which helped, but was nothing compared to the lift he got when the first thing Jensen did when Jared sat down was to make sure Jared had the phone number where Jensen could be reached.

"And if you lose it, Gran has it, too," Jensen said. "It'll take me today to get there and a little bit to get used to the time change, but any time you want to talk to me, I want to hear from you."

Jared folded the slip of paper and tucked it safely away in his pocket, then got down to making the last little bit of time with Jensen something good to remember. It was easier than he'd thought it would be because he really did like making Jensen smile. The more he did it, the happier he was, too, so by the time they were in the library waiting for the car that was going to take Jensen to Heathrow, Jared was feeling like he'd done a pretty good job, at least until Jensen reached out and pushed Jared's hair out of his eyes.

"You don't have to do all this," Jensen said. "Jolly me out of my morning mood."

"I don't mind," Jared said. "I like it." He took a deep breath and added, "And, right now, it's about the only thing that's keeping me from being some dumb kid who can't deal with people leaving." He shrugged and half-smiled. "I really don't want that to be how you remember me."

"Don't do that," Jensen said, sliding his hand into Jared's hair and pulling him close, angling his head just right and kissing him, a thousand times better than the last time, a thousand times better again when he licked Jared's mouth open, nothing uncertain or unsure. Jared couldn't breathe, couldn't see, but managed to get his hands around Jensen, and held on tight.

"Don't," Jensen said again, low and rough against Jared's mouth. "Please. I want you, not someone you think I want you to be."

"Jen," Jared whispered. His heart was pounding, and he felt a little light-headed, but Jensen really was there, holding him close, so Jared didn't think he'd heard wrong. "I--Okay."

"Good." Jensen kissed him again, slow, focused, and when they heard the car pull up and finally broke apart he was as breathless as Jared. Jared walked outside with him, blinking in the bright morning sun, and everything was okay, even when Jensen pulled him into a hug and he couldn't let go for a couple of extra seconds.

Jensen smiled at him, saying, "Don't let Gran do anything crazy," as he got in the car. Jared stepped back and let Lady Frances take his hand as the car drove off. He could tell she was worried about him, and that was the last thing he wanted.

"He didn't really define 'crazy,' did he?" His voice wasn't quite right, but he managed to find a smile somewhere.

"No, he most certainly did not," Lady Frances agreed, with an answering smile. "How very sloppy of him." Jared's smile turned into something that was real and unforced. "We'll just have to explain that to him when the inevitable dramas begin. I'll let you take care of that, dear."

"I can do that," Jared said, as they walked back into the house together.

***
***
***

Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Epilogue