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spn_fairytales story!!!! I'm so excited about it, I have to post a teaser--
Title: Cupid 97 (This ain't your Hallmark Cupid)
Characters: Jensen/Jared, Jensen/JDM, Jared/Sandy, Chris Kane, CW cast and cameos from Grey's Anatomy cast
Author:aeroport_art
Rating: R
Warnings: potty mouths, extreme sarcasm, UST/schmoop
Word Count: ~27,500
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money being made, go 'way.
Notes: Currently in beta
Summary: Everybody's got a love/hate relationship with their jobs. But for Jensen Ackles, top Cupid in the nation, after a hit goes wrong it's just a long, downhill slide from there. Caution: an ungodly amount of swearing, sarcasm, and schmoop; in which Chris Kane is an awesome best friend, Tom Welling's the vacuous son of Zeus, Rosenbaum is Rosenbaum, and Jensen has a penchant for Plans.
“Your list for the day, Cupid.”
Behind a large mahogany desk, a woman with long blonde hair, face aged but beautiful, jots down a couple notes into her yellow lined notepad, then rips the page out and slides it over to the man opposite her. The man—Jensen Ackles, 97th Cupid of the Bureau of Amorous Affairs (BAA)— plucks the sheet up and proceeds to scan it, frown deepening the more he reads.
“Eighteen targets today? What do you think I am, a machine?”
“That’s ‘Venus’ to you, C-97,” the woman scolds. Her name is Samantha Ferris but she is known as Venus, the proper title of a district manager at the BAA—in this case, the fine district of Los Angeles. She continues, “And no you’re not a machine, but you’re the best Cupid we’ve got on the West Coast, so get to it. Lotta lovin’ to get done before the weekend.”
Jensen sighs and pockets the paper. “Yes ma’am,” he mock salutes before heading back out the large oak doors.
Shit, eighteen of these guys? he grumbles to himself on the ride down the elevator, pulling the crumpled sheet out again to read Samantha’s (correction, Venus’) blue-ink scrawl in more depth.
1. Sandra McCoy (27). Ralph’s Grocery Co, 9:47 AM
This seems like a common enough way to start the day: staking out public grounds for a woman in her mid-twenties, whereupon he’ll shoot her through the heart with one of the Bureau’s specially prepared bullets, which are made and imprinted in pairs. The target’ll see nothing, feel nothing—at least, not until the partner bullet has pierced her future lover’s heart, courtesy of the Cupid behind the smoking gun.
What, you pictured cherubs with bows and arrows? This ain’t your Hallmark Cupid, kid.
Jensen loosens his silver tie as he idly skims the rest of the day’s targets, annoyed that even with the Bureau’s new management, they hadn’t bothered to implement picture IDs for the target briefings. Guess it’s still up to them to find the right targets with just a name, age, and location. That, and a whole lot of creativity. Picture IDs would’ve been fucking awesome but hey, the bigwigs never read the damned suggestion boxes.
“It’s a matter of funding,” somebody pipes up next to him, uncomfortably near in the small space of the elevator (Jesus, Jensen hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t alone). “The Bureau just upgraded the firearms and bullet tip formulae, so they didn’t have room in the budget for much else this year.” Jensen turns around and finds none other than Tom Welling, Zeus’ very own son, smiling at him with vaguely vacant blue eyes.
“Hey, you’re Tom Welling,” Jensen states, his irritation replaced by surprise. “You’re here already?”
“That’s C-148 while we’re on duty,” Tom says smartly, puffing his chest out where his shiny new Cupid pin rests on an immaculate lapel. “Well, I wasn’t supposed to be here until the end of the month, but I just couldn’t wait,” he admits, smiling beatifically. The elevator dings and a couple more bodies shift inside as Jensen blinks in horror.
“Pick of the crop kid, and you choose a crap job like being a Cupid?” Jensen asks incredulously. “What’s wrong with you?”
“It’s an honor to uphold one of the oldest traditions and responsibilities of the immortals…” Tom recites, and Jensen rolls his eyes because dude, everybody had to read that shit in the beginner’s manual but ain’t nobody in the building actually believes in it. “…and… there’s kind of this person,” Tom finishes lamely. Aha.
Tom talks his ear off for the rest of the ride down the building’s twenty-nine floors, and when they reach the lobby with a loud churning of gears, Jensen hops out gratefully.
“Nice meeting you, C-97!” Tom calls out.
“It’s Jensen,” he mutters, automatically looking up at the large wall clock above the receptionist’s desk. “Shit,” he curses as he realizes how late it is.
He’s too busy mentally mapping a route to his first location to notice the clomp of shoes jogging up behind him, only looking up when somebody falls in step next to him. “Hey Jen, was that Zeus’ kid just now? What’s he doing here?”
Jensen perks up when he sees it’s his friend and fellow Cupid, Christian Kane; a tall brunet with sleepy blue eyes. “Yeah, that was Tom Welling,” Jensen says. “It’s his first day here.” When Chris eyes him disbelievingly, he explains, “He wanted to be a Cupid ‘cause he’s in love with a girl working here, or some shit like that.”
“Ironic. I think I just threw up a little,” Chris says, wrinkling his nose as Jensen mirrors the sentiment. You don’t spend your entire career in professional matchmaking (in Los Angeles, of all places) without becoming just a little—or, in their case a lot— sarcastic.
“Tomorrow’s Friday, man. That’s all I got to keep me going,” Jensen says as he holds the front door out for Chris. They step down the innocuous entryway before parting in different directions.
“I’ll see you at Great Lakes after work!” Chris calls as he backpedals towards his car.
“After work,” Jensen confirms, slapping his hand on the hood of his own car before popping the door open and sliding in.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” he says to himself. No one else is gonna give these kids a Hollywood ending.
spn_fairytales story!!!! I'm so excited about it, I have to post a teaser--Title: Cupid 97 (This ain't your Hallmark Cupid)
Characters: Jensen/Jared, Jensen/JDM, Jared/Sandy, Chris Kane, CW cast and cameos from Grey's Anatomy cast
Author:
aeroport_artRating: R
Warnings: potty mouths, extreme sarcasm, UST/schmoop
Word Count: ~27,500
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money being made, go 'way.
Notes: Currently in beta
Summary: Everybody's got a love/hate relationship with their jobs. But for Jensen Ackles, top Cupid in the nation, after a hit goes wrong it's just a long, downhill slide from there. Caution: an ungodly amount of swearing, sarcasm, and schmoop; in which Chris Kane is an awesome best friend, Tom Welling's the vacuous son of Zeus, Rosenbaum is Rosenbaum, and Jensen has a penchant for Plans.
“Your list for the day, Cupid.”
Behind a large mahogany desk, a woman with long blonde hair, face aged but beautiful, jots down a couple notes into her yellow lined notepad, then rips the page out and slides it over to the man opposite her. The man—Jensen Ackles, 97th Cupid of the Bureau of Amorous Affairs (BAA)— plucks the sheet up and proceeds to scan it, frown deepening the more he reads.
“Eighteen targets today? What do you think I am, a machine?”
“That’s ‘Venus’ to you, C-97,” the woman scolds. Her name is Samantha Ferris but she is known as Venus, the proper title of a district manager at the BAA—in this case, the fine district of Los Angeles. She continues, “And no you’re not a machine, but you’re the best Cupid we’ve got on the West Coast, so get to it. Lotta lovin’ to get done before the weekend.”
Jensen sighs and pockets the paper. “Yes ma’am,” he mock salutes before heading back out the large oak doors.
Shit, eighteen of these guys? he grumbles to himself on the ride down the elevator, pulling the crumpled sheet out again to read Samantha’s (correction, Venus’) blue-ink scrawl in more depth.
1. Sandra McCoy (27). Ralph’s Grocery Co, 9:47 AM
This seems like a common enough way to start the day: staking out public grounds for a woman in her mid-twenties, whereupon he’ll shoot her through the heart with one of the Bureau’s specially prepared bullets, which are made and imprinted in pairs. The target’ll see nothing, feel nothing—at least, not until the partner bullet has pierced her future lover’s heart, courtesy of the Cupid behind the smoking gun.
What, you pictured cherubs with bows and arrows? This ain’t your Hallmark Cupid, kid.
Jensen loosens his silver tie as he idly skims the rest of the day’s targets, annoyed that even with the Bureau’s new management, they hadn’t bothered to implement picture IDs for the target briefings. Guess it’s still up to them to find the right targets with just a name, age, and location. That, and a whole lot of creativity. Picture IDs would’ve been fucking awesome but hey, the bigwigs never read the damned suggestion boxes.
“It’s a matter of funding,” somebody pipes up next to him, uncomfortably near in the small space of the elevator (Jesus, Jensen hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t alone). “The Bureau just upgraded the firearms and bullet tip formulae, so they didn’t have room in the budget for much else this year.” Jensen turns around and finds none other than Tom Welling, Zeus’ very own son, smiling at him with vaguely vacant blue eyes.
“Hey, you’re Tom Welling,” Jensen states, his irritation replaced by surprise. “You’re here already?”
“That’s C-148 while we’re on duty,” Tom says smartly, puffing his chest out where his shiny new Cupid pin rests on an immaculate lapel. “Well, I wasn’t supposed to be here until the end of the month, but I just couldn’t wait,” he admits, smiling beatifically. The elevator dings and a couple more bodies shift inside as Jensen blinks in horror.
“Pick of the crop kid, and you choose a crap job like being a Cupid?” Jensen asks incredulously. “What’s wrong with you?”
“It’s an honor to uphold one of the oldest traditions and responsibilities of the immortals…” Tom recites, and Jensen rolls his eyes because dude, everybody had to read that shit in the beginner’s manual but ain’t nobody in the building actually believes in it. “…and… there’s kind of this person,” Tom finishes lamely. Aha.
Tom talks his ear off for the rest of the ride down the building’s twenty-nine floors, and when they reach the lobby with a loud churning of gears, Jensen hops out gratefully.
“Nice meeting you, C-97!” Tom calls out.
“It’s Jensen,” he mutters, automatically looking up at the large wall clock above the receptionist’s desk. “Shit,” he curses as he realizes how late it is.
He’s too busy mentally mapping a route to his first location to notice the clomp of shoes jogging up behind him, only looking up when somebody falls in step next to him. “Hey Jen, was that Zeus’ kid just now? What’s he doing here?”
Jensen perks up when he sees it’s his friend and fellow Cupid, Christian Kane; a tall brunet with sleepy blue eyes. “Yeah, that was Tom Welling,” Jensen says. “It’s his first day here.” When Chris eyes him disbelievingly, he explains, “He wanted to be a Cupid ‘cause he’s in love with a girl working here, or some shit like that.”
“Ironic. I think I just threw up a little,” Chris says, wrinkling his nose as Jensen mirrors the sentiment. You don’t spend your entire career in professional matchmaking (in Los Angeles, of all places) without becoming just a little—or, in their case a lot— sarcastic.
“Tomorrow’s Friday, man. That’s all I got to keep me going,” Jensen says as he holds the front door out for Chris. They step down the innocuous entryway before parting in different directions.
“I’ll see you at Great Lakes after work!” Chris calls as he backpedals towards his car.
“After work,” Jensen confirms, slapping his hand on the hood of his own car before popping the door open and sliding in.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” he says to himself. No one else is gonna give these kids a Hollywood ending.
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Date: 2007-10-13 04:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-13 07:10 pm (UTC)