Summer 1993:

There's a broad smile on his face, a California tan fresh on his flesh making him glow in the light of the sun glinting off of the waves. He can't believe all of this is his. He never even knew he had a crazy Uncle Geoffrey, and it's a shame he never really got to know him, considering his uncle left him his own beach side cottage with a good chunk of the beach to call his own. There's even a nice atmosphere to be found on Santa Rosa Island, a nice small town vibe. Everything's laid back, and the ferryboat ride was an adventure all its own. Jared can't help but crack a smile as he remembers Chad getting seasick and heaving over the side of the ferry.

Speak of the devil. There's a firm slap on Jared's back and he looks down at someone that's become his best friend, and maybe, just maybe he's crushing on Chad Michael Murray. It's a small kind of crush really, and Chad's too much of a douche to really get that Jared's into him, but Chad's got his endearing qualities, although sometimes Jared really strains himself in identifying them.

There's a squeal from behind them, and he turns around at the sound of the screen door banging open. His other best friend, Sandy McCoy comes rushing up through the sand, and for a tiny thing she tackles him full on, and Jared's six foot four inch frame staggers a little from the impact. He swings her around, the sand getting in his shoes as she laughs.

"Wow, Jay! I can't believe this place is yours! It's so awesome, and this is gonna be the best summer ever! And just think, your birthday's in a couple of weeks too, and maybe we could have a party!" Sandy says, her voice bubbling over with excitement.

"Cause gettin' acquainted with the locals is always a good thing," Chad adds with a sly wink and a leer.

Jared laughs and shakes his head. "Like being nineteen is something to celebrate. Got two more years before I can actually go out and buy my own beer!"

Sandy pecks him on the cheek and he sets her down as she says, "That's what you got me for, remember?"

"And here I thought you were just the three a.m. booty call," Chad pipes up.

Jared snickers at the sound of Sandy smacking Chad in the back of the head. Chad lets out a yelp and rubs the back of his head, sending a glare in Sandy's direction. She sticks her tongue out at him, and then kicks up sand as she takes off with him in hot pursuit.

Jared shakes his head and then heads toward the cottage. It's just a beach house really, with a little boardwalk on stilts that goes out toward the beach, its made out of wood, two stories, with a nice, screened in back porch, a kitchen, three bedrooms, a spacious living room, two bathrooms, and an outdoor shower stall. It's comfy, low key, and it's all his.

Nothing can ruin this for him, not even the fit his brother Jeff threw when he found out about his dead uncle, and that the only person to get anything from a guy they'd never met was Jared and not him. Jared sighs, forgetting about Jeff for the moment. The rush of the ocean waves soothing as the wind stirs the hair at the back of his neck.

He steps onto the worn wood of the boardwalk, and he's overwhelmed with a feeling of warmth and home. He takes in a breath and looks up at the cottage, and nods. No matter what happens, whether he succeeds or fails in life, this place, this beach, this is home, and it's perfect.

----------

2008:

He's driven roughly sixty miles and endured a ferryboat ride with one of the biggest jackasses he knows riding shotgun, but it's his own fault for choosing a jackass like Christian Kane to be one of his best friends. Granted Chris has his uses and his moments. Right now though? He's just plain useless.

At the moment Jensen Ackles really wishes he'd rethought the driving arrangements. If he had, he wouldn't be stuck in his Range Rover with Christian Kane bitching about being out in bum fuck nowhere, with David Boreanaz snoring in the backseat. It's not that he doesn't like his present company, usually he gets along with Chris, and he can bring himself to tolerate Dave, although Dave is more Chris' friend. Which is how Dave even ended up on Jensen's damn retreat. Christian Fucking Kane invited him. Not that Jensen minds, well, at least he hasn't let on that he does.

He wishes that Chris had driven his ratty old Ford pick-up instead of Steve. Speaking of. He spares a glance in his side mirror, sees Steve behind the wheel of Chris' truck, and Steve looks about as happy with his current company as Jensen feels about his own present situation. Then again Michael Rosenbaum can be a tough pill to swallow without the proper amount of alcohol before hand.

Jensen taps the steering wheel in time with Chris' bitching, praying that they reach the island soon. Real soon, because if he's going to endure Chris' mother hen act he's going to need to get really drunk really fast. Jensen's already revving his engine as the ferry docks and it doesn't take him long to leave the small island town behind as he drives through a very green and wooded area. He's reminded of lush, tropical jungles he's seen in movies and even on a couple of locations. Damn, reminded of work, and his possibly non-existent future.

He shakes the thought away and that's when Chris opens his mouth. "Damn Jenny! We been in this damn car for hours, driving and then on a fuckin' boat. When we gettin' to this new damn house of yours, and I thought you said it's a beach house. This don't look like any kind of damn beach I've ever seen before."

"Why don't you worry about waking up sleeping beauty and leave the driving to me. You were the one that wanted to tag along and then invited all of your friends to my new house and my nice, quiet retreat. So unless you wanna sleep out in the sand and get a crab up your ass, cut the bitchin'," Jensen threatens, and his voice carries more than a grain of truth, and Christian rolls his eyes then reaches in the back and smacks Dave.

Dave sits up sputtering. "Hey, are we there yet, cause my legs need stretching."

"And your ass needs a tan. Shit man! Angel's long gone. I know you got that gig on that new crime show or whatever, but you live in California. Get a damn tan!" Chris snaps. "That's why I dragged your ass out here. And I'm reckonin' on gettin' there as soon as Jenny gets his head out of his ass and figures out where in the hell we are. I swear, don't seem fittin' just buying some house without even going to check it out first."

"It's a beach house, fully furnished, three bedrooms, a kitchen, two bathrooms, and I got it at a steal, man. I mean she just threw the key at me for hardly anything. And don't look at me like that, I saw pictures. She says there's a guy from town that's kept it up over the years."

Dave knows better than to get involved in whatever is about to go down, because Chris has this annoyed look on his face.

"You bought a house from your freakin' psychiatrist because she suggested a fucking retreat. Sounds like she was just trying to kill two birds with one stone. Get rid of a chump and get rid of a dump. I'll put money down on the fact that you just got fucked! Man, you used to have a head on your shoulders, and now look at you! Daniel was a dick, told you that from the get go, but do you listen to me? Do you listen to Steve?! And you ALWAYS listen to Steve! Damn idjit! I swear you were beggin' to be dragged outta the damn closet! Now I'm only here on account of my undyin' loyalty to your sorry ass, and the fact that you guaranteed free beer and liquor," Chris bites out.

Years of practice have taught Jensen how to ignore Chris, and he finds himself putting all of that practical experience to good use. He's so busy ignoring Chris that he almost misses the turn off. He turns right, down the long gravel road, pointedly ignoring Chris who's now occupied with trying to drag Dave into a conversation. The beach, and more importantly, the house come into view rather suddenly as the lush growth of the island thins out into palm trees.

Jensen pulls up in the gravel drive, cuts the engine, gets out, pulls his sunglasses off and stares up at the house. Two stories, yellow with white trim, and it appears to have been well kept. He wonders what the catch is because he's really gotten this house and the private beach that came with it at a steal.

A moment later Steve pulls up in Chris' raggedy pick-up, and Mike jumps out with a whoop, runs up behind Jensen and firmly claps him on the back. Jensen gives himself a little shake and comes back to the present. He goes to the back of the Range Rover, drops Chris' guitar case to the ground, grabs his two duffel bags and makes his way up to his new house, a cottage with a sea view.

He drops one of his bags at the door as he reaches into his pocket for the keys to the place, and as he slips the key into the lock everything seems to fall away. For the first time in a long time he feels likes he's come home. He kind of likes the feeling.

This time it's Steve that brings him back to reality. "Hey man, you okay? Completely zoned out for a minute there. 'S not like you at all dude. I know a lot of heavy shit's been goin' down with you right now, so you say the word and I pack up the circus and we're gone. Seriously man, the minute you want us gone I'll drag their asses out of here."

Jensen smiles and pats Steve on the shoulder. "Naw man. It's all good. Just get me a beer before Chris starts bitchin' again."

"I didn't know he ever stopped bitching," Steve replies with a grin.

Jensen smirks. "Yeah. I'm thinking we should have let Mikey bring that roll of duct tape like he wanted to. I mean we did come out here for peace and quiet after all."

"Then why did you invite Chris?"

Jensen shrugs. "I think I was drunk at the time."

Steve shakes his head with a sympathetic smile. "That'll do it every time."

"We gonna stand out here all day or are you gonna unlock the door so we can call dibs on beds, Jenny?" Mike interrupts from behind them.

Jensen opens the door and says, "Right, there are two bedrooms upstairs, a bedroom downstairs, the couch is a pullout, and I've got the bed out on the enclosed porch. You four have at it."

He steps away from the door as his four guests go racing past, claiming beds for themselves. He hears a scuffle from upstairs, but from the triumphant yell of Mike, he knows who's gotten that room. Finally there's nothing left for Chris except the pullout and the scowl on his face, which makes a smirk tug at Jensen's mouth.

With the house finally quieting down, Jensen gets a good look around the place. It's tastefully furnished, like it's been lived in, and well cared for over the years. He still can't believe that he got this house for the price he did. Dr. McCoy could have gotten three times as much for the house alone. He walks toward the kitchen, and then out that door to the screened in porch and his eyes widen. The porch itself is huge, it's screened in, with the shutters wide open to let in the sun, but the shutters provide extra protection against the weather for when it rains. He's even more surprised by the bed. He was expecting a cot at the most, but it's a huge four-poster king size bed that he could get lost in for days. There's a net canopy on top that's tied back, and the bed's even been made, a thick white comforter with yellow stitching thrown on top.

After setting his duffel bags down at the end of the bed and exploring the wooden dresser and wardrobe, he looks at the long wooden chest at the end of the bed. He finds himself very curious. He kneels before it, tries pushing it open, but it's stuck. Then he notices the lock. So it's locked. He checks the key ring he got once the house was signed over to him, but there's not a single key on the ring that looks like it would fit the lock. He shrugs and figures he'll have to call up Dr. McCoy later and ask her about it.

He steps out of the screen door and onto the wooden deck that leads out onto the sandy beach. He takes in a deep breath, the air so clean and fresh, and he doesn't realize his eyes are shut until they flutter open and he catches sight of a tall guy standing out on the beach, the waves slipping up the sand and over the guy's feet, the breeze ruffling his hair and his open shirt. For a moment Jensen honestly can't remember how to breathe as the mid-afternoon sunlight glints up from the waves and makes the man almost appear to glow.

As soon as he's caught his breath he walks down the deck, his flip-flops smacking the bottom of his feet as he finally reaches the sand and slowly approaches the stranger. He slows down a little, something telling him to take it easy like he's approaching a skittish colt instead of a man. The guy doesn't even spare him a glance as Jensen joins him, the waves curling up around his toes. Jensen let's out a sigh as he finally decides to break the silence.

"Is it always this peaceful out here, man?"

The guy startles for a moment, gives himself a little shake, and then turns to look at Jensen, and Jensen is blinded by cheerful hazel eyes, a bright smile and dimples. He licks his lips and his heart feels like it's doing back flips. The guy chuckles a little and then shrugs.

"Most of the time. Every now and then there's a storm that blows in, but if you can weather those you could spend all of eternity here and not be bothered. Beautiful ain't it?" the stranger says.

Jensen nods. "Yeah. I still can't believe I bought this place so cheap. I swear I think I might have stolen it."

The stranger cocks his head at that. "You bought the house?"

"Yeah," Jensen says with a curious tilt to his head as he looks at the stranger. "You mean you didn't know? I'm sorry man. I thought… Well aren't you like the caretaker?"

The man smiles, that blinding flash of dimples again and answers, "Somethin' like that. I'm Jared. It's been awhile since I actually met anyone new to the island…"

Jensen sticks out his hand with a slight blush creeping up his neck and over his cheeks. "Jensen, Jensen Ackles. I take it you haven't heard of me? Wow. You must live under a rock when you ain't keepin' this place up."

"Can't really say it's living, so much as just gettin' lost in the peace and quiet here. It's my own private heaven. Gets a little lonely sometimes, but the view's amazing."

"I guess so. I'm lookin' for peace and quiet. Hey, what do ya say to a couple of beers with the guys unless you got other things to do… I'd totally understand," Jensen offers.

Jared scratches the back of his head. "I could go for a beer, but just so you know you'd be contributing to the delinquency of a minor, man."

Jensen shrugs with a grin. "I won't tell if you won't. And where ya from, sounds like I hear a little Texas?"

"San Antonio, and you?"

"Richardson. And just so we're square, just how illegal are you?"

"I'll be nineteen in a couple a weeks, so I'm legal enough."

"Damn, you're just a fresh faced baby! Out here keepin' the house up for a summer job or something?" Jensen asks as they head up to the house, the planks of the boardwalk creaking under their feet.

Jared stops at the outdoor shower stall and Jensen raises a brow as Jared turns it on and takes the nozzle down to rinse away the sand from his feet. Jensen snorts out a laugh and lets Jared spray his feet down too. A moment later they walk through the screen door and Jared pauses, looking around it with a small smile.

"Doesn't look like much has changed. You staying out here on the porch huh? It's got a great view at sunset," Jared says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jensen gives him an odd look. "You've stayed here before?"

Jared chuckles. "Yeah, I lived here once. My uncle left it to me when he died and I came out here with a couple of my friends for the summer. Then some things went down and they left me out here. Shit happens though. So, who sold you this palace by the sea anyway?"

"Um," Jensen coughs a little. "My therapist. Sandra McCoy. And you owned it?"

Jared shrugs. "Ain't a big thing. Life changes moment to moment. I still got the ocean view and that's all that matters. You don't mind if I hang out on the beach? I know you own it and all, but it's the best stretch of beach on the whole island. And speakin' of Sandy, how is she? Haven't seen her in what's felt like ages."

"Dude, she's in her thirties. You got a thing for older women?"

Jared snorts at that. "Naw man. She had a big time crush on me though. Man, she's somethin'. Too bad for her I was into Chad. That's where it all kind of gets away from me. Now didn't you say something about a beer with the guys? Where's the rest of your little crew?"

Before Jensen can respond, Mike steps out onto the porch with a beer in his hand and a low whistle, before he spots Jensen and Jared by the door. "Damn Jenny, I think you scored the best bed in the whole place, and already picking up jail bait? I thought you went for older guys. Wasn't Daniel like thirty-five or something? Kinda early to be hitting that ol' midlife crisis, don't you think?"

Jared's laughter rumbles through the room and Jensen's heart speeds up a little, but he has enough presence of mind to send a glare at Mike and snap, "He's nineteen asshole, and he used to own this place. Jared this is Mike, and he's one of two assholes on this little vacation. The other one is Chris, and then there's Steve and Dave."

"And you're just takin' some time off, huh?" Jared asks.

"Somethin' like that," Jensen mumbles, and then Mike perks up.

"Wait! You mean the kid doesn't know? Like he doesn't know who you are or who any of us are?" Mike says and then he looks at the wide-eyed kid. "You've never heard of the Jensen Ackles? Or Michael Rosenbaum? Christian Kane? David Boreanaz? Steve Carlson? None of us?"

Jared shrugs like its no big deal, but he still scratches the back of his head in nervousness. "Should I have?"

"Wow, and I thought the whole world knew about Jenny's little coming out party after Daniel went to the papers with the story. Shit man! Where you been hidin'?" Mike asks incredulously.

"I usually keep to the beach, dude. Out here nothin' matters but sun, sand, and surf," Jared replies, a wistful tone in his voice.

"Leave the kid alone man, and lets get him a beer," Jensen says, and gives Mike a pointed look, but then there's a commotion from further inside the house and Chris' bitching.

Jared stiffens, and Jensen turns to look at him. "Hey man, you okay? Ain't nothing but Chris. As big as you are, if he pissed you off you could knock him on his ass easy."

"Look man, rain check on the beer, cool? I should probably be headin' out anyway. I'll see ya 'round," Jared says, and just like that he's rushing barefoot down the boardwalk, then kicking up sand behind him as he runs off down the beach, leaving a dumbstruck Jensen and a curious Mike in his wake.

----------

1993:

"Man! You gotta admit! These townies know how to party!" Chad says loudly to be heard over the music filling the house.

Jared leans in closer, barely catching what Chad's said, and gives a jerk of his head in the direction of the beach where the bonfire they built up at sunset blooms fully in the rich star coated night. Chad nods, grabs himself and Jared another beer and follows him out. Jared heads past the bonfire, further down the beach, away from the party, and while it confuses Chad a little he still follows his friend.

"Hey man," Chad says as he hands Jared one of the beers. "Party's back that way. What we doin' all the way out here?"

Jared takes a pull from his beer and runs his other hand nervously through his hair. Finally he just says, "I don't know. It was way too crowded in there. I just needed some air."

"Yeah right. Something's eatin' you and don't try to bullshit me. It's Sandy right? You like her or something? Cause dude! She's had it bad for you since the moment she laid eyes on you! Why don't you just grow a set and ask her out already! It's your birthday! It's not like she'd turn you down on your birthday!"

Jared shakes his head in exasperation, lets out a bark of laughter and sits down in the sand in defeat as the high tide playfully tickles his toes. Chad huffs in frustration and plops down next to his friend, taking a long drink from his beer and settling his arm across Jared's shoulders.

"See, Jay, it works like this. When you like a girl you go up to her and ask her out. She either takes you up on it or she's a bitch and turns you down. But hey, you know what they say. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Right?" Chad says and pats Jared's shoulder.

He sighs and looks at the shorter blonde man. "It ain't that easy Chad. It's not that I don't like Sandy. She's a great girl, and I'm sure I'd be lucky to have her. Hell, any guy would, but there's someone else I had in mind," Jared pauses then and fidgets with the label on his Michelob, peeling it off.

Chad shakes his head. "Okay, so it's not Sandy. No big deal, but I'm tellin' ya, she's probably your best bet at gettin' laid, cause you seriously lack talent with the ladies. It's not your looks. Cause honestly you don't look that shabby. It's just how you are. You treat everybody like your kid sister or something. Work on that and you'll get laid! Hell that bed out on the porch is enough to insure you some action, but you gotta make some kind of move first."

"You think if I made a move first something might happen?" Jared asks curiously.

Chad shrugs and takes another pull of his beer before he reaches in his open shirt pocket for his pack of smokes and his lighter. "Sure man. Anything's possible, and hell it's your birthday! Nineteen today! So just go for it."

"Go for it? Just like that?" Jared asks, his voice searching for something concrete.

"Whatcha got to lose, Jay? Anybody'd be lucky to score with you. I mean you're pretty okay. So you're freakishly tall, but that just means you're great at providing shade," Chad replies with a laugh, and then he pulls back and playfully punches Jared in the shoulder. "So you gonna give me her name?"

Instead of answering Jared turns to face Chad, then he darts forward before he loses his nerve. It doesn't go as smoothly as he expected. For one thing their noses bump and Chad just freezes as Jared tries to right his position and make the kiss work. Chad doesn't stay still for long though. He shoves Jared away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in disgust and growls out, "Jay! What the fuck man?"

Jared scrambles to his feet, his shorts soaked through from the tide, his eyes wide and wild. There's a rumble of thunder in the distance, and Jared takes off down the beach, sand flying behind him. Chad gets to his feet, one part of him shocked and feeling almost betrayed at what just happened, and the other part wanting to go after Jared. Because no matter what their friends. Chad's laziness and anger win out however. Besides Jay will come back when he's good and ready too. It doesn't matter anyway. They were drunk, that's all. And it's with that thought circling in his head that he walks back toward the bonfire and the party.

----------

2008:

He's sitting out in the sand, the low tide tickling his toes. It's been three days. Three days of being in this amazing place. Santa Rosa is certainly better than he expected. He's been into town twice already, gotten acquainted with the small café and the diner, the general store, small grocery store, countless surf shops, and the marina where the ferryboat sails three times a day to the mainland, six am, one pm, and six pm. The marina also boasts a collection of fisherman. There are a few bars around too. One that caters mostly to the fisherman, one to the surfers, and the third one to a little bit of everyone.

It's been three days since he last saw Jared. It's been nagging at him too. One minute Jared's all set to sit down, have a beer and meet the guys, and the next he's hauling ass to the tune of Chris' bitching. Jensen shakes his head as he brings his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. He barely spares a glance as a shadow falls across him, because the shadow is not long enough to belong to someone as tall as Jared.

A moment later Steve is sitting next to him in the sand, and bumping his shoulder. "So, what's up with you dude, cause this ain't like you. Sittin' out here staring at water all day, not that the view ain't amazing. And when you do go into town you're always preoccupied, like you're on the look out for somebody. So how about you tell me what the hell's goin' on with you. And keep in mind, I ain't Chris, so no bullshittin' me. I'm here for ya man. Hell, I think we all are, except Dave. I think Chris has convinced him that he's just here for a tan."

Jensen chuckles at that.

"Good. A laugh. That's progress. Now tell me all about this jailbait that Mike keeps talkin' about. That ain't like you either. Thought you liked the older types. The kid's what? Seventeen? Eighteen?"

"Nineteen, and his name is Jared. He was out on the beach after we got here. We just started talking you know, and it was nice. His uncle actually left him the house, but I think he ended up losing it to Sandy. She must be like a friend of his family's or something. She let him stay on to keep the house up for the summer. I just wish I knew where he was staying in town. I still owe him a beer. Chris scared him off the other day."

"Sounds like you might have a thing for this kid. And leave it to Chris to scare someone off for you. He's just worried. Hell, we all are. After what Daniel did to you, and how you took it. Jen, what happened that day after the papers came out? Why'd we have to break down the door of your condo to find you out cold in the bathroom with a half empty bottle of Valium and vodka?"

Jensen takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "McKenzie called me. She told me Dad took it bad. Real bad. Momma was cryin' too hard to tell me, so she had to do it. Dad told her to tell me I couldn't ever come home after shaming the family so bad. You know how he is. Baptist to the core. I don't know what happened after that, really. I think I was trying to go to sleep, but I was shaking so bad, and I took one Valium and it wasn't working, so then I took another one and then I thought maybe the vodka would make it work faster. It's not like I meant to scare the shit out of you guys and end up getting my stomach pumped at Cedar Sinai. I'm just glad you found me."

"You're damn lucky is what you are," Steve replies, and then bumps Jensen's shoulder again. "Just don't pull any stupid shit like that again. It wasn't cool man."

"Is that why you and Chris insisted I started going to a shrink?" Jensen says with a playful grin.

Steve shrugs. "All for your own good. Had to be sure you weren't goin' crazy."

"Chris is a friend of mine. I think I've been to crazy and back ten times over," Jensen says with a chuckle.

"You got me there, but just let that shit go. This is all new. Oh and I meant to tell you. Your phone rang and I picked it up. Your agent has a couple of scripts she wants to send your way. Wouldn't give me any details. I gave her the P.O. box number, so expect some real mail in a couple of days."

"Thanks, man."

"No problem. Now what say you to some breakfast, just you and me? We have to hurry before the assholes wake up," Steve says with a wink, and Jensen remembers once again why he calls Steve a friend as he nods and they get up, knocking sand off of their shorts and heading around to the front of the house to Jensen's Range Rover. Steve pulls the keys out of his pocket and heads to the driver's side. Jensen just shrugs and waits for Steve to unlock the door.

It isn't long before they are at the diner with a couple of plates of omelets, toast, and bacon on the side and steaming mugs of coffee. They're talking about the good ol' days before their careers started picking up, back when Chris was the most famous of the three of them for working on Angel with Dave, and they were all roommates, and that's when it all goes to hell. From out of nowhere Jensen is snatched up out of the booth and there's a scruffy looking blonde man, probably in his late twenties or early thirties, shaking him and glaring fiercely at him.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are, Hollywood, but we don't need your kind out here! Renting the house is one thing! But buying it out from under him! That's another! That's something that doesn't sit right with me, and Sandy was out of her damn mind selling to you! You sorry son of a bitch! All that money to throw away and you pick this place, his beach! His house!" the man growls.

Jensen grabs the blonde man's shirtfront and does some shaking of his own. "Look man, I don't know your deal, but I bought the house fair and square. Dr. McCoy's name was on the paperwork and no one else's. When she made the offer to sell I had no idea I was stepping on someone else's toes when I took it. Is this about Jared? Did he put you up to this or something?"

The blonde man reels back like he's been punched, and stares at Jensen with wide eyes. "How do you know about him?"

It's Jensen's turn to look confused. "When we first got to the house he was out on the beach. He helps take care of the place right? He seemed okay with everything. Look if he's got a problem with me about the house he can quit fucking avoiding me and just come up and we can talk. He doesn't need to send some trumped up asshole to do his dirty work for him!"

"That's impossible. I've heard the stories, but… He's never talked to anyone before! They've always seen him a couple of times, but no one ever got close enough to talk to him! What makes you so different! Why you and not me?! I've been taking care of that fucking house for fifteen God damned years and you're the one he talks to!" the man growls.

"Fifteen years? But Jared's only nineteen, at least that's what he said," Jensen replies in confusion, his anger forgotten for the moment.

The man laughs at that. "You got it bad for him, don'tcha Hollywood?"

Before another word is said a familiar face walks into the diner and rushes over to the man. Jensen recognizes the petite frame and the dark hair. Dr. Sandra McCoy. She looks from Jensen to the man and then smacks the man in the chest. "Chad, I thought you said you would wait for me to get here so we could talk before you did something stupid!"

"I thought you said we would talk if you ever decided to seriously sell! You know how important that house is and you sell it to Jensen Ackles, Hollywood's fucking golden boy?! What the hell were you thinking? It was not ours to sell! What about Jared, Sandy?! What about him?" Chad says, and he looks like he's about to collapse into himself, and the little show has gathered the attention of everyone in the diner, as Chad looks up and in a voice barely above a whisper he says, "And he's seen him, Sandy. He's seen Jay and talked to him. Why him, some stranger? Why him and not me?"

Sandy looks up sharply at Jensen, her brown eyes locking with his confused green gaze and she says, "You've seen Jared?"

"Well yeah. Isn't he the caretaker? He told me he was. Even asked if it was okay if he hung around the beach. I had no problem with it. Why? There somethin' you not tellin' me?"

She looks nervously back at Chad and then shakes her head. "No. He's not exactly the caretaker, but in a way he's been taking care of the place. Look, Jensen, I'm gonna deal with Chad. Why don't you and your friend let me cover your breakfast and we call it even?"

Jensen narrows his eyes at his therapist in suspicion. "Why don't you tell me what the hell is going on and why the trunk at the end of my bed is locked? Why didn't you give me the key to that too?"

"You're sleeping in his bed? And that trunk doesn't belong to you! It's none of your damn business!" Chad snarls.

"If it's not his and none of his damn business, then why is it at his house? And what do you mean his bed? It's Jensen's bed. The house came fully furnished as part of the deal. It was even in the contract when the doc handed him the deed after everything was signed," Steve says, coming to his friend's aid.

"What he means to say is, only Jared has the key to that trunk. It was his. You want answers, I guess you'll have to talk to Jay. Now I really need to take care of Chad. I've got your check covered, just forget this ever happened, and Jensen, when you see Jay again, tell him we miss him," Sandy says and then she turns all of her attention to Chad and getting him out of the diner.

Jensen looks down at his half empty plate and then up at Steve. Steve nods, throws a few dollars on the table and says, "Yeah, talk about weird, man. Let's go settle the check and get outta here."

They walk up to the counter where the register is and the waitress that walks up to the register is giving them a strange look and says, "The meal's on Sandy's tab. You boys are good to go."

"Wait? Just like that?" Steve asks.

"Locals tend to have a tab around here, Sandy's always good for paying her tab. You boys are good," she replies and then she narrows her brown gaze on Jensen, "And you, if you've seen the Padalecki boy, you be nice to him. Haven't seen him round in a while, and he's something special to all the folks 'round here. You could say he's this island's guardian angel. You hurt him and a storm's coming that you can't handle."

Jensen swallows hard at that, gives a nod, and then follows Steve out the door. Once they're in the Range Rover and on the road, Steve spares Jensen a glance and asks, "Okay, now what part of that didn't strike you as weird as hell?"

"I think I've got a few questions for Jared. I mean Jesus! And they act like they haven't seen him in years. He's nineteen. Has he been coming to the place since he was a kid? He would have to. I mean with as familiar as the locals are with him. And there so protective of him," Jensen says, his brain a whirlwind of thoughts as Steve makes the turn off and a few minutes later finds them in front of the house.

As Jensen steps out of the Range Rover he hears Chris shouting, and he races around the house to get to the beach. Chris is stepping out on the boardwalk, yelling at Jared, who's standing out on the beach, the surf washing up around his ankles. Jensen notices how Jared stiffens and then Jensen snaps, "Dammit Chris, get back in the house. I can handle this. Steve! Get his ass back in the house, now!"

It doesn't take long for Steve to hustle Chris back in the house as Jensen jogs up to Jared. Jared seems to relax a little with Jensen standing next to him. Jensen turns to look at Jared expectantly, and then says, "So I met a friend of yours in town this morning. He said some pretty interesting things. Who the hell is Chad? And what's the deal with Dr. McCoy? She showed up before I could start kicking this Chad guy's ass. So how about we walk a little ways down this beach and we have a little talk."

Jared's smile falters and he nods and begins to walk down the beach. Jensen follows at his side, waiting for Jared to say something.

"Sandy and Chad have been looking out for me for the past fifteen years. I'm actually kind of surprised she sold the house. I mean, every time it ever came up she would refuse because of Chad. They've always rented it every summer, but never on my birthday. Chad's kept the place up, replacing windows, boards, keeping everything running. Of course Sandy doesn't come out as much as she use to. It's good to know she's back. I wish I could go see them, tell them I'm…okay," Jared says softly.

"So what? They raise you or something? That's kind of weird, I mean they don't look like they'd like each other all that much and to raise a kid together. And they're kind of young."

"It's complicated. My parents couldn't deal, so Sandy and Chad came to make arrangements with them and this is the result. I don't mind. I never really expected any different. How about we just forget about this? Chad can be a real asshole, but he's pretty cool once you get to know him, and since you bought the house I guess you plan on spending a lot of down time here, so you'll get use to him," Jared says, and there's that wistful note in Jared's voice again. It's almost hypnotic and it makes something inside of Jensen want to promise forever, but this is only the second time he's seen the guy and there's a lot of shit going on that's just a little too on the weird side for him at the moment.

"Okay, I'll forget about the complicated family history for now," Jensen says, and then a thought springs to mind, "But I want you to tell me about the trunk. The one at the foot of my bed. It's locked and Sandy said you're the one with the key."

Jared chuckles dryly. "That falls under complicated family history. How about we just go for a swim or something? It's the perfect time for swimming, it's about to start. Just kick off your shoes and take off your shirt. Hurry, it's about to start and it's always best when you're already in the water before it starts."

"Before what starts?" Jensen asks, completely thrown by Jared's sudden change of subject and enthusiasm.

"The rain," he replies with a grin as he pulls his shirt off and drops it onto the sand before he runs straight out into the ocean. Jensen hesitates for a moment more, looks up at the clouds growing heavy in the sky, shrugs and then strips off his shirt, kicks off his flip flops and takes off after Jared, because there is something about Jared that brings out the kid in him again. It's just a sense of something familiar, something like coming home. Maybe the salty air is getting to him.

Read Chapter two of three of Tempestquill's A Cottage with a Sea View