Title: It’s Not Easy Being Green
Wordcount: 5800 ish.
Summary: Misha decides there are days when he really should’ve stayed in bed. This is the tale of how Jensen makes Jared jealous with the aid of a very helpful English co-star and the crew of Supernatural.
Warnings: None, unless you count author insanity.
Disclaimer: These boys are not mine, nor do I believe that they are in this kind of relationship. It’s just nice to have the fantasy for a little while.
Notes: This has lurked on my hard drive for a while, after reading this you may wish it has stayed there. This is just a little humorous piece that developed from me being bored at work, and reading a comment concerning Richard Armitage’s hair. I’m sorry I can’t remember who made it, so I apologise for using it. The rest of this is entirely my fault. Beta’d by the wonderfulbigj52 .
It’s Not Easy Being Green.
Jared was trying, honestly he was. Since when did he get jealous? Let’s see? It was around the time he fell hopelessly in love with his co-star. You know, the one with the gorgeous green eyes, freckles you could spend hours tracing with your tongue and God, those lips.
Jared mentally shook himself; he had to get a grip, and he didn’t mean round the throat of the latest guest star. He glared across the set with murderous intent at the blissfully-ignorant man. The victim of the glare stood laughing with the object of Jared’s affection and the cause of his homicidal tendencies.
Misha stood beside his friend, attempting not to laugh at Jared’s agitation. After all, when this was over he would still be there and the guest would be gone. He reached up to place a hand on Jared’s shoulder, and intoned in his best ‘Castiel’. “You do know ‘thou shalt not kill’ is one of the Ten Commandments; in fact, a fairly important one as I recall.”
“Yeah, and isn’t there one about not coveting your neighbour’s ass, or the ass of your neighbour’s boyfriend?” Jared growled.
Misha rolled his eyes “Somehow I don’t think that was on the stone tablet Moses brought down Mount Sinai, but I admit it has a ring to it.” He eyed Jared warily, wondering if he should try and take Ruby’s demon killing knife off him, but noticing the white-knuckled grip he thought better of it.
The reason for Jared’s current desire to go all ‘Sam on demon blood’ was the English actor Richard Armitage who had been cast as a demon. Jared was aware of his work but had not had the time to watch the DVDs that he and Jensen had been sent. Jensen, on the other hand, had managed to watch them, and spent the best part of the last few weeks raving on about Richard’s performances especially in ‘Spooks’ and as ‘Sir Guy’ in ‘Robin Hood’. All the time muttering things like brooding presence, good physical actor, and he could have sworn he heard ‘fuck me’ hair. But Jensen had been walking away at the time.
Then Jared had met Richard, and he was faced with six foot two of black-haired, blue-eyed, drop-dead gorgeous who was going to be up close and personal with Jensen. To make matters worse the man was funny, friendly and had a habit of giggling when scenes broke down. This automatically endeared him to everyone but the director. This had meant Misha and Jensen were on a mission, to see who could make him laugh the most. Jared liked Richard, he was a great guy, no pun intended but it was just what Richard’s character did in this episode that bothered him.
Jared had read the script, and okay, Dean was kidnapped by Demon to get Sam to do what it wanted, fine so far. Then, of course, Jared got to the part where Dean was alone with the demon, and as usual Dean got his ass kicked. Dean would be tied to a chair, tortured, situation normal for Dean. What the hell was this about shirt ripping?? And just what was he doing with that knife again? Of course Sam and Cas rode in to the rescue, killed the demon and all was right with the world, and Cas could make puppy eyes at Dean.
Jared had a tendency to get all caveman over Jensen; who the hell wouldn’t? And seriously did they have to keep beating Dean up all the time? It was just asking to trigger Jared’s protective instincts. It really didn’t help that Jensen looked all kinds of hot when he was covered in fake bruises.
It was an accepted fact that both boys were very protective of each other. Jared had become ten times worse after he and Jensen became an item. Now, whenever Dean was angsting or he was hurt or crying or he was broken, the ominous spectre of Jared “Mother Hen” Padalecki appeared on set.
Many of the directors felt the writers were trying giving them a breakdown because that’s all they ever did to Dean before breakfast every damn day. But it wasn’t the writers who had to face an over-protective Sasquatch. Some directors even threatened to strike if the writers made Dean cry one more time, fortunately a compromise was reached. It meant someone had to babysit the Sasquatch whenever Jensen was involved in an intense scene and Jared wasn’t filming.
Today the lucky person was Misha; he wondered if he should check his contract. He was almost certain there hadn’t been any clauses concerning preventing Jared from leaping on the set, and murdering the latest Monster of the week who was abusing Dean. Although, considering the size of Jared, he would most likely be dragged behind him, screaming.
This normally volatile situation had been exacerbated by the fact that Jared was seething with jealousy. Jensen and Richard had hit it off right away and had good chemistry together. Usually it was Jared who was the arms-open welcoming committee. This time it had been Jensen, and boy, had it gotten under Jared’s skin. Jensen had relaxed round Richard; they had goofed around which was great as most their scenes were together.
The normally happy, smiling Jared had suddenly begun channelling Sam as if his life depended on it. This had led to the current situation, a nervous Misha preparing to lay down his life in attempt to slow Jared down, and give Richard a head start.
Everything had been going well until Jared had been faced with the torture scene between Richard and Jensen. Jensen was tied the chair. Richard had been perfect, all growling menace, teamed with that peculiar playfulness all Supernatural’s demons had. He’d produced a prop knife and started running it along Dean’s jaw and down his throat, all while Dean had been plying his trademark snark. Then Richard had taken the knife, and cut open Dean’s shirts pulling them off his shoulders where he continued to run the blade along Dean’s collarbone, and across his chest leaving behind trails of blood.
In the first take the shirt didn’t rip properly, leaving Richard wrestling with the buttons, all while Jensen laughed helplessly.
The second take had been progressing well, shirt ripped, dialogue flowing, Jensen playing wounded hero to the full, and it was then that the sound man announced there was a problem and could they go again.
The third take was the one. The shirt ripped with buttons shooting across the room, Richard played the knife back and forth, oozing menace, finally gripping Jensen by the hair, pulling his head back and putting the knife against his throat. Jensen had played Dean’s pain and defiance with his usual intensity, his eyes reflecting his torment. Welling tears were caught bejewelling his eyelashes, eyes deepening to bottle-green. All the while Richard had loomed over the helpless hunter torturing him physically and mentally.
The director called ‘cut’, and for a few seconds no one moved, held by the scene they had just witnessed. Richard clapped Jensen on the shoulder and bent down to start untying him.
The director walked over to them, smiling “Fellas, that was just great! But I wonder if you could try that one more time? Just with more... what’s the word....?”
Richard couldn’t help but smile. He looked down at Jensen who shared the same rueful smile. Richard had been warned about this and so he took pity on the director who appeared to be blushing.
“I think you mean sexual tension? A little less brutality but increase the passion?” Richard asked, tilting his head, a wicked smile playing across his lips.
The director’s shoulders slumped in relief; it was the one conversation he hadn’t wanted to have. It was bad enough he could feel the death glare coming from Jared during the course of the shoot; it was another to have to ask an actor to put his life on the line by basically molesting Jensen.
It was the same every time they did this. Eric was always trying to push the boundaries of what they could get past the Network. So if they could, two versions of this kind of scene were filmed. The first was shot with good old-fashioned physicality with Jensen and Jared just being slapped around. Then there was the sexed-up version, with the Monster of the week, threatening so much more than a knife in the kidneys, thus causing fan girls to implode and melt the Forum boards. So far Eric had never managed to get this second version past the suits, but God love him, he kept on trying.
The director called everyone back to their original positions. Once again Jensen had been wiped clean of blood, make-up fixed, and fresh shirts put on. Jensen remained seated throughout. As he pointed out it was easier to leave his legs and feet tied to the chair rather than keep freeing him.
“Look, are you sure you’re okay? I can get the director to take a break if you like?” Richard asked, concerned, as Jensen had to be feeling the effects of being tied to a chair and bounced around by now. Jensen shook his head.
“Naw, the sooner we do this, the quicker we finish and don’t forget I have plans.” Richard laughed and rested his hand on Jensen’s shoulder.
The crew finished retying Jensen’s hands, and with timing the Trickster would’ve killed for, Jensen’s nose started to itch. So everyone was treated to the sight of Jensen attempting to scratch his nose on his shoulder. Richard knelt by Jensen saying “May I?” He then proceeded to gently scratch Jensen’s nose until Jensen nodded his thanks.
From the dimly-lit outskirts of the set, faint sounds of a scuffle could be heard. Misha had flung himself in front of Jared who was attempting to get on set. “What the hell does he think he’s doing?” hissed Jared.
“Scratching Jensen’s nose? It’s not an erogenous zone of his we don’t know about, is it?” Misha was using his full weight to slow Jared but his comment had the desired effect. Jared stopped and Misha slumped against him in relief.
“Misha, what the hell are you on about? Just look at him, he’s practically groping Jen and what’s with all the whispering!!!”
“Funny, I thought he was asking if Jen was ok. And since when does nose scratching count as a grope?” Misha enquired in Castiel’s bemused tones. Before Jared could respond the director called for quiet.
Dean slowly came around. What the hell was he doing lying on the floor? He could have sworn he was tied to a chair. Just then a pair of hands swam into view, gripping the chair and hauling Dean back into an upright position.
Ah shit! He remembered now; just before the lights had gone out again, that black-eyed son of a bitch had sent him and the chair flying over with a well-aimed punch. Dean’s head felt like it weighed a ton and he was having trouble lifting it. He could faintly hear that bastard’s monologue directed at him. He shook his head and tried to pay attention.
“Dean, Dean, why don’t you just play nicely until Sammy gets here? The voice was crooning at him.
Dean finally lifted his head, glaring at his captor. The meat suit the demon wore was nearly as tall as Sam, with ice-blue eyes and black hair that was longer than Sam’s. Did he have to keep wearing that damn smirk? Dean returned the same smirk, although it made his split lip throb.
“Ah sweetheart, if I’d have known that, we could’ve had a slumber party, and I’d have braided your hair for you.”
The demon threw back his head and laughed. When he finished he looked at Dean and let loose a vicious backhand, snapping his head round. In a flash the demon was kneeling by him, invading his personal space. The demon reached across, gently placing his hand on Dean’s cheek, turning his face back towards him, running his thumb across the freshly-bleeding bottom lip.
“All you have to do is to be a good boy, and sit here like the bait you are - a worm dangling on a hook. You remember what that feels like from Hell, don’t you Dean?” The demon’s voice was low, a sickening parody of seduction in its tone.
Dean shuddered, desperately trying to contain the images unleashed by that statement.
“I thought I recognised you. It’s Porky, isn’t it? You handed Alistair his toys, you weren’t allowed to play with knives then.” Dean grinned back viciously.
The hand that was caressing Dean’s face changed position. It now gripped his jaw painfully, and Porky leaned even closer and whispered.
“Ah yes, Porky! What was it you used to say? I looked like Porky Pig with rabies. I think this meat suit is more me. Funny you should mention Alistair. I have my own toys now.”
Porky pulled a knife from a sheath at his hip. He slowly brought the knife up to Dean’s face, and then delicately drew the blade under Dean’s eye. “Such beautiful eyes, maybe I’ll take one as a souvenir of our time together.”
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Dean rasped out.
Porky gave a faint laugh, and continued to run the blade down along Dean’s jaw and neck, digging the blade deeper, starting to draw blood. He stopped at the collar of Dean’s shirt, and he put the knife down. He then gripped the material with both hands, and with one swift motion the button-down was torn open, buttons flying across the room.
The knife was picked up again, “Now we don’t want anything getting in the way, do we?” the voice purred huskily. His thin T-shirt was sliced; this time when the material was wrenched back, Porky’s hands lingered on Dean’s shoulders. He ran his thumbs across the pale, freckled skin, licking his lips in anticipation. He was enjoying the sensation of his victim trembling under his hands.
“Now, now Porky, at least buy me a beer, or a bottle of Jack, because Dude, you are not my type!”
Porky hummed to himself as the blade pushed against Dean’s collarbone. He slowly drew the sharp edge along the bone’s curve, blood welling up in its wake. Once the blade reached the hollow of Dean’s throat, Porky drew the blade down towards his heart. The blade hovered there for a moment, and Porky rose to his feet and moved behind Dean.
Porky had begun to slowly trail his hand up along Dean’s arm, over the trembling shoulder, pausing to caress his neck, before grabbing his hair and viciously pulling Dean’s head back, forcing the helpless man to stare up at him.
“What, no witty comeback? Or is it maybe that you’re worried Sammy has finally left you behind? How did he react to hearing his big brother started the Seals breaking? How your weakness led to his freeing our Father? That now he carries the guilt on his shoulders, all because you were too gutless to refuse Alistair.”
While Porky spoke the knife was pressed to Dean’s throat, the point biting into the skin until it broke, and blood slowly trickled down. Dean’s eyes brimmed with tears, but he refused to shed them. Instead, he stared up at the bastard, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing how much his words had hit home, and he wondered if Sam would come for his worthless big brother.
The only sounds coming from the hushed set were those of Jensen’s harsh breathing, and what sounded like a growl coming from the direction of Jared. The first person to move was Richard. He quickly let go of Jensen’s hair, moving the hand down to rest on the back of Jensen’s neck. Richard looked at the director and with a grin asked “That ok? Can we untie Jensen now before we have to carry both him and the chair off set?” The spell was broken and the crew started to move again.
The director looked around, quickly checking the reaction of the female members of the crew - two of them had a glazed look on their faces and one PA had to be helped off-set to get some fresh air. He wondered if they could edit the two versions together to screen, hell he’d even help Eric try and sell this take to the suits. That’s if they could get the tape past Jared. The director tried to glance nonchalantly over his shoulder in the direction of the growling, only to be distracted by what was happening on set.
Richard was kneeling down again, and was helping to untie Jensen. Once free he tried to stand. This proved to be easier said than done. Jensen managed to straighten up, and take a step away from the chair. His knees promptly buckled, and the only thing that prevented Jensen from collapsing in a heap was Richard leaping forward, grabbing Jensen’s arms to keep him steady.
“Right, you need to try and walk this off. Let me help, alright?” Richard moved to Jensen’s side to ensure the wobbling man remained upright, and they started to make progress off the set, right towards Misha and Jared.
Misha was beyond panic as he wondered if this was what Nirvana felt like. During the course of the last take, Jared had grown quiet, never a good sign. Misha had even resorted to a trick Jensen had given him, carrying a bag of Gummi Worms to offer Jared in times of stress. Jared had turned the candy down. Misha considered this a sign of impending Apocalypse; it was up there with Jensen refusing coffee.
As the scene had progressed, he considered his next course of action. Should he fetch some of the larger grips to help him restrain Jared, who by now was almost vibrating with tension? Maybe he could fetch the set doctor to help mop up Richard’s remains after Jared finished with him. When Richard ran his hands over Jensen’s shoulders Misha was pretty sure Jared stopped breathing, and only started again when the director called ‘cut’.
“Jared, speak to me, please. If you kill Richard, Jensen will have to visit you in prison. Do you really want all those convicts undressing him with their eyes?” it was a low blow but it did the trick. Jared’s jaw clenched as he muttered through gritted teeth
“That’ll only happen if they find the body!”
Misha relaxed a little. If Jared was capable of speech, he could be reasoned with. Then of course, Jared watched Richard untie Jensen. Ok, that was acceptable touching. Richard could get away with that. Then he watched in awe as Richard caught Jensen when he had started to fall. It was possibly the best piece of assisted suicide Misha had witnessed since Chris had been a little too enthusiastic when he strangled Jensen during the filming of episode sixteen.
As the two men approached Misha considered the condemned man’s fate, he just hoped that it would be quick and Richard wouldn’t suffer too much.
Jared rolled his shoulders in an attempt to relieve the tension there. Misha whispered to him. “Now smile at the nice guest star Jared, and please give me the knife. Remember, orange is not your colour!”
The expression which formed on Jared’s face could be described in many ways; a smile was not amongst them. Richard and Jensen had reached them, and Jensen turned to Richard and patted him on the chest.
“Thanks man, Jared can get me to my trailer from here.” He was looking at Richard as he spoke, but with a deft touch he disarmed Jared. He handed Ruby’s knife to Misha before taking a firm grip on Jared’s wrist, “Home, Jared. I really need a bathroom break, like now.” Jared automatically responded to any discomfort from Jensen and they walked towards the trailers.
This left Misha and Richard alone; Misha couldn’t help but be impressed by Richard’s calm manner. Perhaps he should explain the mortal danger he was in. Richard stood watching Misha. He could tell Misha was attempting to speak and decided to put an end to Misha’s misery.
He clapped Misha on the shoulder, and began to speak “Judging by your expression there has been a death on the set or alternatively there is going to be a death on the set.”
Misha’s eyes widened and couldn’t help the “Christo,” that slipped out.
Richard shook his head and smiled “Put it this way. I have inside information, namely from Jensen!”
Misha stared at Richard, trying to process the latest shock to his already-battered system; he wondered if it was too late to audition for ‘Grey’s Anatomy’.
“All I’m doing is what Jensen’s asked me to. He noticed that Jared, shall we say, reacted slightly when he saw my publicity shots. Then Jensen watched the DVDs and Jared became a little more, how did he put it? A cross between Tarzan and Captain Caveman. He wanted to make Jared jealous.”
Misha rocked back and he croaked out “What? How did he convince you to....?”
“You mean, become a dead man walking? Jensen called me and explained the situation. Originally he wanted to apologise in advance, in case Jared decided to go all ‘Me Jared, him Jensen’. It was going to be put down to brotherly protectiveness. Then I met the two of them, and it’s obvious they’re crazy about one another. The way Jared was looming, I thought Jensen was going to smack him on the nose with a rolled-up script. So being the gentleman I am, I told Jensen I‘d speak to Jared and explain my intentions were honourable. Besides, I don’t have a death wish, despite what you think.”
“But Richard, the way you two have been, it’s almost like flirting! And Jensen is never touchy with the other guests. I was nearly trampled to death today!” wailed Misha.
“After my offer Jensen wanted to wind Jared up. Just enough to... how should I put it? Ah yes! See if the puppy has teeth! His words not mine, so Jensen has being upping the ante....right up until today’s shoot and the crew have been a great help.”
Suddenly everything became clear to Misha; the way Richard kept touching Jensen; the whispered jokes, and how the crew always seemed to get in Jared’s way when he started to get too close to the two men.
“Why didn’t you tell me then? “ Misha sounded hurt at being left out, and being reduced to a state of nervous exhaustion.
“Jensen knew he needed someone to seal the deal and, according to him, you’re a great actor but you can’t lie to save your life. So I’m afraid you had to be method. I’m sure he’ll apologise once all this is done.”
Misha looked up in horror, this wasn’t over? He wondered if he could make the next flight to Tibet, “What’s coming next, then?” Misha really didn’t want to know but if he was needed as a witness for the defence, he felt he owed it to Jared to prove he’d been provoked into a double murder.
“Well, I think they’ve had long enough alone. We are going to find them and fetch them back to the set.”
Richard smiled and started to walk off, Misha following in a daze. It was like watching a train wreck. It was horrific, but you couldn’t help but watch.
Richard seemed to know exactly where he was going, and Misha had a very bad feeling about this. They approached the trailers, and Richard motioned for Misha to be quiet. In a secluded spot between two of the trailers were Jared and Jensen.
Jensen’s back was pressed against the one trailer with Jared in front of him. It looked as if Jared was attempting to climb into Jensen’s clothes with him, he was that close. His hands were gripping Jensen’s hips, and he was kissing Jensen’s neck as if his life depended on it. Jensen’s head was tilted back, allowing Jared better access but it also meant that Jensen could see Richard and Misha over Jared’s shoulder.
Misha’s mouth went dry. Was it suddenly hot out here? He loosened his tie even more. He should look away, but damn it, it was one hell of a show. And what exactly was Jared doing to make Jensen whimper like that?
“Richard, what the fuck are we doing? We should go back before they spot us!” Misha hissed urgently.
“Patience, Misha. We’re waiting for the signal!”
Signal? What damn signal? thought Misha. At that moment Jensen gave a moan that caused Misha’s blood pressure to skyrocket. So Christ knew what it was doing to Jared. With that Jared then reached for Jensen’s belt.
“Jared, Jensen you’re needed back on set. Now please.”
Misha heard Richard’s shout. The moan was the damn signal? Holy crap! Misha leant round Richard to see what was happening. Jared had let go of Jensen, his arms braced against the trailer and his head tilted back, breathing hard as if he had just run a marathon. Jensen swiftly ducked under the outstretched arms, and stepped in front of Jared, giving the other men a ‘thumbs up’.
Richard spun them both round and hurried Misha back towards the set. Misha was still struggling to come to terms with what just happened. They came to a halt at Kraft Services, and a glass of Misha’s favourite Wheat Grass Juice was thrust in his hand. He took a long drink and finally found his voice.
“Holy shit! We just cock-blocked Jared!! Have you any idea just what that means?” Richard was still smiling, damn him. He didn’t grasp the seriousness of the situation. Perhaps when Jared was finished with them, they could use his body on one of the C.S.I shows. At least he could ensure his wife was financially secure.
“Misha, I promise you nothing is going to happen to you. Jensen has it under control, and besides, Jared is going to be very busy until we finish.” Richard nodded towards the boys as they arrived on set.
Jensen was still slightly flushed, his lips swollen but he looked serene which was more than could be said for Jared. He was the picture of a man on the edge - sweating, flustered, desperately rearranging his shirt over his jeans, and he was fidgeting as if he had overdosed on sugar. Suddenly Jared was besieged by PAs and crew members, all needing his attention right now. Jared found himself being hustled away, leaving Jensen smirking.
For the rest of the day Misha was treated to an exquisite dance. Every time Jared attempted to get Jensen alone, he was bustled off set. Or there was a wardrobe adjustment, make-up touch-ups and, at one point, Jared found himself holding a ladder while a lighting technician fixed a light. He was becoming increasingly agitated.
Misha pulled Jensen to one side “Are you really sure this is a good idea?” as Jared was hauled into the make-up trailer to save them from a huge spider.
Jensen smiled at Misha “Well, I guess I’ll find out tonight! Don’t worry; I’ve left detailed instructions with the crew over how to deal with my poor, broken body tomorrow.” With that he clapped Misha on the shoulder and deftly avoided Jared once again.
After filming had finished, Misha noticed there seemed to be more crew around than usual. Richard appeared beside him, “Misha, if you’re not busy do you fancy going for a drink with me and the crew? We are going to discuss Jensen’s survival chances.”
Before he could respond Misha saw Jensen making rapid progress towards the car, and Cliff held the door open, grinning at him. Jensen leapt into the seat, fastening his belt, looking the picture of innocence.
Behind them came a crash as Jared opened the door of his trailer, stalking across the set all brooding menace and coiled aggression, the image only spoiled by the slightly strange gait to his walk. As he drew level with Richard and Misha, Richard started to speak to Misha “Oh, the hair? Right, well, this is a wig. My hair is much shorter now, but certain people were very taken with the longer look. And...Oh, good night Jared, have a pleasant evening.”
Jared stopped and slowly pivoted round to stare at Richard as Misha belatedly realized he was standing between the two men. “I was just asking if Misha wanted to come for a drink, you and Jensen are more than welcome to join us.” Richard beamed at Jared, and Misha truly understood the concept of certain death as promised within Jared’s gaze.
“Jay, are we heading home or going with the guys?” enquired Jensen. Jared stiffened, but gamely held onto his composure, “Sorry guys, we’ve got plans. Thanks for asking, though. Goodnight.” Jared turned and stalked his way to the car.
Watching the car pull away Misha didn’t know whether to feel relieved he’d survived. He wasn’t sure if he should leap into his car and fulfil his role as Castiel, protecting Jensen from an overwrought, frustrated, jealousy-consumed Jared. He suddenly became aware that the crew and Richard were watching him with expectation. “Come on, Misha, come and have a couple of beers. You can help us plan Jensen’s care package for tomorrow. It should help relax you,” said Gina the make-up artist. Misha paled, and starred fixedly after the car.
“Just what do you think Jared will do to him?” he asked apprehensively. Gina was grinning “Does the phrase ‘too much information’ mean anything? Trust me. Some things are best left a mystery, but put it this way. I’ve stocked up on pillows, ice packs and the reclining make-up chair is Jen’s tomorrow, ok?”
Misha tilted his head to one side and thought for a moment, “Right. I’m coming with you. Jensen’s a big boy, and can take care of himself. Hell, if he can survive playing Dean for four seasons, then dealing with Jared should be a walk in the park. Besides, I want to know how you managed to keep this up without Jared noticing something was up.”
Gina just grinned “Jared did all the hard work himself. He’d gotten all riled up over Richard, all we did was take our cues from Jensen. Just remind me never to piss that boy off because when he wants something he really goes for it. He wanted to press all of Jared’s buttons, and by the look of Jared, tonight is gonna be real interesting in the Padelecki household.” Gina laughed. Richard grabbed Misha by the sleeve of Castiel’s trench coat and dragged him off to wardrobe to get changed.
The following morning dawned at God Awful O’clock in Misha’s opinion as he staggered on set with a hangover of biblical proportions. Maybe he could sell Eric the idea of Supernatural hangovers; he was never drinking with the crew again. Speaking of the crew, Misha slowly turned his head, convinced any sudden movement would cause it to fall off. He looked round the set; it was carnage. Camera men were using their cameras to remain upright. PAs could be seen slumped in the corner, and Gina had to be helped into the make-up trailer.
Richard bounced onto the set, and clapped Misha on the back. He caught him as his knees buckled under the assault. Misha looked up into that disgustingly healthy face and the bastard was smiling. “Now don’t look at me like that. I told you not to drink those last three Purple Nurples. They‘re rather bracing, aren’t they?”
Misha belatedly noticed that Richard was clutching an enormous sandwich dripping with grease. As he turned green Richard said. “The old faithful - a bacon butty. It always helps when I’ve had a couple of drinks.” Misha swayed then amended his original thought from ‘never drink with the crew’ to ‘never drink with an English guest star’ - they were lethal.
Richard was staring over at the door; Misha followed his gaze. Jared and Jensen had arrived. A ripple of anticipation passed through the room; there had been a sweepstake on the state of Jensen that morning. Jared appeared relaxed, well rested, more his usual bouncy self, smiling at the crew, talking at a hundred miles an hour, waving at the director with a mischievous glint in his eye.
Jensen on the other hand, looked as if he hadn’t slept for a week. He was walking (one crew member cursed, he’d put money on Jared having to carry Jensen in.) albeit slowly, the bow in his legs a little more pronounced than normal. There appeared to be no visible bruises, but Gina had promised a full report on how many bite marks she covered.
Richard called across the set, “Good morning, Jensen, pleasant evening?” Jensen turned very slowly, smirked, winked and punched the air in the style of Dean. Then he resumed his slow and careful journey to make-up. He was followed by whistles and hoots. Jensen turned and bowed as he ascended the steps to the trailer.
Jared re-emerged from make-up, and walked over to where Richard and Misha stood. An expectant hush fell over the room, and Jared stopped in front of Richard. He looked down at the floor, and lifted his head back up, grinning. “Jen says I should apologise for being such a dick to ya. Well man, I’m sorry. I can get a little errm, overprotective at times. ”
This heartfelt moment was interrupted by Jared’s stomach rumbling at the sight of Richard’s sandwich. Both men laughed. “Jared, may I introduce an old English custom of very greasy bacon butties. They have marvellous restorative powers.” Jared positively drooled at the sandwich being wafted under his nose, “I can get Craft Services to make another. Call it a peace offering?”
Richard held his hand out and Jared shook it. Just before he let go of his hand, Jared smirked at Richard, stepped in close and in a low voice said. “Jensen told me to tell you that the puppy does have teeth and thanks for one hell of an evening.” With that, Jared snatched Richard’s sandwich and ran for his trailer with Richard in hot pursuit, laughing. This left Misha standing alone, head tilted to one side with a vaguely puzzled expression just as the director went past “Ah, great, Misha. Good to see you getting into character already.”