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25 February 2011 @ 10:58 am
WIP meme  
So I've been trolling through my acres of unfinished stories trying to find some inspiration for spn_j2_bigbang and thought, fuck it.

So here's the WIP meme, a snippet for each of my works in progress which have made it past a couple of lines long. Mostly for fun. I've going to include a bit from the story I'm actually hoping to finish today but I'll keep my mouth shut about which one it is for now in case I don't manage it.

1. He rips open another bag, fills the martini glass on the bar with a little flourish and tops it off with a sparkly umbrella. Hey, nobody ever said his job wasn't fun.

“Cute,” the guy he's serving says, tapping the umbrella with a finger so it bobs in his drink, “And so are you.”

Jared glances up, the guy's tall, pretty in a careless sort of way. Jared shakes his head, “You want a donor, try the back room, buddy. I just pour the drinks.”

The Alpha's eyes narrow a little before he shuffles away. Jared knows it doesn't make sense to most of them, a civilian working in an Alpha bar. He doesn't blame them all for assuming he's a donor, hell most of the bar staff are but Jared doesn't offer his throat up for anyone. But the bar pays good money and it's right around the corner from the building his summer internship is at, three blocks from his shitty apartment. He'll pour blood for Alpha's all fucking night if it keeps on paying his way through college.

2. Jared flops onto his back and stares up at his new ceiling. There were paper stars over his old bed, Carl had torn them out of gift wrap, shaping them and sticking them up. They hadn't been allowed scissors, it had taken hours.

There are no stars here, just blue paint. Once upon a time he could probably have pretended it was sky but he doesn't have the energy for that anymore.

He falls asleep thinking about paint and how much Carl would have liked the lake outside.

His wrists itch and he doesn't scratch them.

3. “You said what?” Sam's up off the couch and stalking around the breakfast table. Jess can see the vein in his neck throbbing.

“I don't see what the big deal is,” Jess tells him, sitting at the table and studiously avoiding his gaze, “It's just dinner and a few drinks with Cathy. You like Cathy.”

“I like Cathy fine when she's the loud girl you study with. Not when she's trying to sleep with my brother.” Sam huffs loudly and fold his arms the way he always does when he's trying not to be angry. “You couldn't have just said no?”

Jess rolls her eyes. As if any of this is her fault. “What was I supposed to say Sam? “Oh sorry Cathy, I don't think you're Dean's type, he prefers blood relations.” Would that have worked, do you think?”

Sam looks stung and Jess doesn't even feel bad about it.

“Telling her he's seeing someone would probably have done the job,” he says. His jaw's clenched but his voice doesn't waver.

4. It’s pretty difficult not to laugh. “I’m taking Jared with me.”

Jeff nods. “You’re taking Cara too.”

Jensen doesn’t react. There’s not an awful lot of scope in the plan for a Cara but it’s nothing they can’t work out. This is the shot they’ve been waiting for.

“What does she do?”

Cara rolls her eyes, “She, doesn’t do anything. You need a hacker. I hack.”

There’s no way he’s not reacting to that. Jeff’s lost the fucking plot. “You want us to take a civilian along for this ride? Really?”

Jeff shrugs, “She’s the only civilian born into the resistance. She’s also your only hope of getting into the warehouse they’re holding Welling in.”

Jensen lets his gaze flicker over her. She’s tall and slender, probably fiery as hell. She reminds him a little of Anna, only there’s no fucking chance this little girl could take him out, no way. He loves it when a plan comes together.

5. Sandy comes to see him the day he gets discharged. He’s finally dressed, in clothes he doesn’t recognise and sitting on the side of his hospital bed, waiting for his mom to come and collect him.

She slips through the door quietly and stands in front of him with a smile. “How you holding up?”

He shrugs. Sandy’s fucking beautiful and Jared doesn’t feel like he’ll ever stop being confused about the light in her eyes when she looks at him. “Physically fine. You?”

She nods, “Physically fine.”

Jared feels awkward again, like he has every time Sandy’s visited. “I’m sorry,” he tells her, “That I don’t remember.”

She nods again, hooks her thumbs in the pockets of her jeans like Jensen always does, “Me too. Is it? Your mom said I could come with you, back to your house for a while, but I told her I’d better ask you first. I understand if you don’t want some strange girl around.”

Jared doesn’t think he’s ever felt more like shit.

“I’m eighteen,” he tells her, even though he isn't, “I’m in love with someone else.”

Sandy’s carefully constructed smile wavers for a second, “I know,” she nods jerkily, blinks rapidly, “But you won’t always be.”

Jared feels sick to his stomach suddenly, because she's right.

6. I know you, is Jensen's first thought when the guy comes inside, steps forward into one of the pools of light over the bar, but he can't place him. The guy's hot as hell, built and tan, totally Jensen's type. It's entirely possible that they've fucked at some point but Jensen would like to think he'd remember that. With him.

Jensen's about to offer the guy a drink, maybe on the house, feel him out a little, when he stops suddenly and says, “Jensen?”

Jensen nods, props his elbows on the bar, “That's me. And you're...” he lets it hang.

The guy flushes and ducks his head, “Jared. You were my-”

“RA,” Jensen remembers, clicking his fingers, “Padalecki right? Thought I recognised you.” He lets his gaze trip down Jared's torso, displayed to perfection in a clingy black shirt, “You look different. Good.”

7. He sits down, against the wall and a couple of feet back from the glass. Maybe if he just sits with them for a while, they'll get used to him or something. He's flying by the seat of his pants here, he's no animal trainer.

“You don't look like a science geek,” the bigger guy – Jared – calls out, moving across the room. He's as graceful as the girls are and lightening quick.

Jensen's spent his life getting ribbed on by army boys and putting bullets through anything with eyes like this kid. A lifetime of fronting. He's not gonna turn into some little pussy now just because his knee's shot.

“You don't talk like you were made in a test tube,” he shoots back.

Jared pauses, eyes flickering. They really are feline, Jensen thinks, the way they move, the way they look out at the world. Of course, feline doesn't always mean house cat.

Jared shrugs, “I have a TV.”

“Do you?” Jensen hasn't seen TV in years, there's no power outside the city walls anymore.

8. The beach is the same stretch of white sand and driftwood, the air still smells like salt and Jensen's skin, his heart still pounds with the crashing of the waves. It's a little bit of peace in a life that's been moving at warp speed for the last couple of years and Jared's doing nothing right now but soaking it in.

He can just about make Jensen out if he squints, a blur in the water.

Sandy drops down beside him, back against the trunk of Jared's favorite palm. They've been here for almost a day now and it's the first chance Jared's had to breathe and really enjoy being here.

“Enjoying your vacation?” she asks, voice low.

Jared glances at her. It suits her, living here, she's shockingly tan, hair in salty tangles.

Some of these are new, some are sequels. I'll answer any questions they might raise. Thoughts/comments are more than welcome. I'm trying to get myself moving here!

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Vickitoxica939 on February 25th, 2011 02:11 pm (UTC)
Haha. I'm definitely going to try!

It is indeed. There's this whole idea about them going back for Sandy and Tom's wedding but I'm having trouble getting out of my head and into words.