Chapter Text
MEET YOUR CREW ON THE CONTESSA :
LINK TO ALL ART by inanna-maat
Jensen was not going to allow the rumor he had heard last week weigh heavy on his mind.
Danneel and Genevieve had only been gossiping amongst themselves, and he had foolishly considered listening, hiding behind an open doorway. Trouble was that tried-and-true anecdote of people who overhear conversations about themselves never hearing anything good proved to be all too real. But he had been curious and it had bit him right in the ass.
That dream-job he had been coveting since he had known about the massive merger about to happen with his employers was soon to become a two person race. A two man race, to be exact.
Jensen had some idea the job would be a shoo-in. First Mate Thomas Welling would slip into the Captain's role of the new cruise line, "The Contessa", while the retiring captain would exit with a grand bonus package and a comfortable pension. Jensen would ease gradually up the ranks, in typical DeMorgan Enterprises crew member fashion, right into the First Mate slot, and everything would be smooth sailing, to borrow a bad pun.
Today, this rumored piece of news didn't sit well with him.
Maybe because, just this once, it had actually appeared as if Reserves Chief Petty Officer Jared T. Padalecki was actually riding along Jensen's coattails, since being hired for civilian duty at the same charter excursion company six months prior.
Jensen had only been hearing second-hand information about this young "maverick" of the Atlantic seas, but they had yet to meet face-to-face, shake mano-ah-mano, or even exchange more words than just a quick greeting.
And by no fault of his own, today - this mid-morning - would be the very day that first meeting would take place.
It hadn't helped much once Jensen had been startled awake, from a dead sleep with a 4am alert message, sent by text and voicemail to his on-call work phone, that he would stagger up to "acting" captain of the crew for the executive chartered yacht, "The Sea Swept"; the boat was mainly used to ferry customers - business associates, clients and top executives - from the mainland to a privately owned island where DeMorgan Charters' headquarters was stationed. An old airfield on the island housed all the antiquated hangers that had been converted into working executive and business offices, where many, if not all, of the employees had their own offices, or at the very least a personal desk and/or lockers, using the buildings as a "hub" for their job 24/7, almost non-stop in rotated schedules.
Jensen had immediately started managing the crew of The Sea Swept, because the real captain had been irrevocably detained--to be truthful, he would not be arriving for active duty this morning. The evening charter he had captained mere hours ago had run later than typical--a sailing yacht chartered by a tycoon's twin sons had suddenly turned into an unfortunate party cruise. The captain had not only just gotten into the docks, close to 3am, but had climbed into bed a mere half-hour ago himself, when the schedule had to be instantly shifted to prevent a deadly accident from happening had Jensen not taken the new duty put on his shoulders.
Only the terminal had known of Officer Jensen R. Ackles consistent ability to conform and rearrange his life in order to protect, and fully serve, the ungrateful customers of DeMorgan Charters. No one had known of his liking of these types of work environments, unforeseen events occurring where he had to comply with no backtalk or recourse, then become willing to accept immediate change, along with a role of high authority with a crew that would give him respect and adhere to his methods. Jensen had worked for DeMorgan for nearly five years as a "civilian", while still keeping active in his US Coast Guard duty in the Reserves, of the 8th District.
At the same time of receiving the news of his change of work status, a new crew roster for The Sea Swept had been emailed, where it was discovered that it would only be he and his First Mate, a 2nd-in-command-cum-navigator, on the bridge, at the helm by his side. The rest of the upper deck staff would be of service to the charter yacht's passengers--stewards, engineers and deckhands. Jensen had been sure it wouldn't be a massive failure from the get-go, since he could now be captain, instead of First Mate, where he had many times felt his expertise was wasted. He wouldn't have to find things to do to keep himself busy, which meant he had to spend less time on the upper and lower decks where passengers roamed; he could safely lock himself in the wheelhouse and keep his butt glued to the Captain's seat behind the steering, always in radio contact with the terminal on the island as he approached DeMorgan's island, Crescent Cay.
Between 5am and 6:30am, Jensen had been properly stewing in the rumor-mill as he worked with the yacht's maintenance crew below decks. His First Mate, Officer Michael S. Speaker, had kept a post on the bridge while they had gone through a thorough checklist before setting sail, keeping in constant verbal touch by two-way hand-held radios; this was to not only make sure The Sea Swept's engines would hold-out, but that the gas tanks remained operational. But, also, that she would remain sparkling and utterly spotless for the passengers about to board; one had to cater to a comfortability level that overextended a customers simple wishes. At 6:45am, a new computer printout of an updated passenger list had been sent; the old copy had too many "slashes" written in from the night before. Of the new-and-improved roster, this time there was an added sheer-nightmare-of-a-name staring right at Jensen...
...Chief Petty Officer Jared T. Padalecki...
Just for shits-and-giggles, on the old passenger list hanging off the hook on the wall, clipped to a clipboard, Jensen had taken a Sharpie marker in hand to draw a stick figure "sad face". All of his crew members, having gotten to know separately both Jensen and Jared, had given light-hearted chuckles imagining this would simply be the brewing of something worthy of being chattered about. Jensen had really wanted to sketch out a fancy "deadly poison" skull-and-cross bones, but hadn't wanted to cause a single person to spread wasteful toxic gossip, as if he actively hated-on a fellow shipmate.
What had been niggling at Jensen was...why hadn't they put Padalecki on his crew? Why was he simply a passenger on the yacht? What was so much better about the young man that he couldn't crew when they were already short staffed and Jensen had dropped everything to take over command? And how the hell had Chief Petty Officer Padaelcki gotten to know the top cat of DeMorgan's newly acquired corporation?
Right where the name of the head CEO of Speight & Townsend Industries should have been on the old list was where Padalecki's name had been scribbled. Richard Speight Jr. was not only the son of the man who had started Speight & Townsend Industries, but also the grandson of both its co-founders. For the better part of fourteen months, DeMorgan Enterprises and Speight & Townsend Industries had been involved in a huge global merger. The new cruise line, "The Contessa", was the newly merged company's first endeavor together.
And, furthermore...why the fuck did this youngblood yeoman think he could climb over all the other staff members between them to get to this opening First Mate's position?
Whom did Padalecki know, and why call in so many favors to climb so high, so fast?
Everyone at DeMorgan knew how hard Jensen had worked, and had kept on working so it would become a natural progression to an ultimate dream-job.
Every. One.
Well...everyone but Padalecki.
It was tough to explain why all morning long Jared had felt the sharp tingles over his nape to crawl down the slope of his spine. Or why his ears felt like they were burning, and every tiny hair on his body stood on end.
He wouldn't understand completely until he had heard the dreaded name of his unwanted nemesis at work, Reserves Master Chief Petty Officer, Jensen R. Ackles.
The "Iceman" as Jared had been hearing for a rumored dub of the full name. He had often wondered if this moniker actually fit, or if it was simply idle gossip. He had served in enough military situations where people gained notoriety and sucked up nicknames like they were a new hobby. To this day, even though he had served two tours in the Army in over three years, he still couldn't remember his "handle", and possibly it was because he had attempted to further himself away from those years of his life the second he joined the US Coast Guard. The Army had merely been a means to an end; the Coast Guard was becoming his passion in life.
He had yet to meet his superior, in the past six months of civilian employment outside of his Reserves duty. The Great and Powerful Oz, as Jared had come to claim him, inside his head. Somehow, Jared hadn't imagined he would be this nervous. The guy was a consummate professional. A fellow officer of the US Coast Guard. They should have a lot in common; they should have too much to talk about. They could've become the best of friends, but maybe not-so-close, but still...comrades-in-arms. Jared had good relationships with his superior officers, in and out of his military duty.
For years, Jared had hated the way his older brother, Jeffrey, tended to utilize every single favor he had attained in his stint in the Army. He had wanted to make his little brother's rise to the top tier a bit smoother, but Jared only saw it as digging a deeper hole that he could never come out of. People were bound to get the wrong impressions about him, and Jeffrey would be safe from ridicule and harm, while Jared would be the one suffering in someone else's name, by someone else's doing, yet again.
Jared relished hard work--hell, he lived for the ego boost every effort brought to him. It hadn't been an easy road to live up to the past Padalecki names, in both father and older brother, but he had tried to make a new path for only himself. And, still, even when he'd left the Army to join the Coast Guard training at the Academy, he couldn't shake their ghosts as people from the past came into Jared's present to aide his survival, every good intention to secure his future. He had appreciated the variety of "leg-ups", but he had wanted to do this all by himself, for his own right to be proud of his success.
But, when Jared had thought he was able to move on his own, things had started to happen in real life to throw him curve balls he had to learn to swing at. So, yeah, he may have used a little clout from Jeffrey to start his job at DeMorgan Enterprises, but his fast rise to popularity and reputation was all his own doing.
Lucky for Jared that Richard Speight, Jr. was actually a retired Master Sergeant, having served alongside his brother overseas for several tours of duty. With that type of "in", Jared hadn't had to have one of those awkward interviews; he simply started working, crewing for the smaller chartered yachts when he wasn't doing Reserves duty, rising from lowly Petty Officer gaining higher ranks as the years went by. It was quickly becoming one of the best jobs to have while still in the Coast Guard, and planning on making it to Senior Chief in the next two months.
The second Jared had become an employee of DeMorgan he had told Jeffrey that this was when calling in for favors would end; the next steps to become a top employee at this executive charter business was going to be by Jared's own hands. Little had Jared known that being the little brother to Mr. Speight's old Army buddy would make him turn into instant family, where he would gain another "big brother" who would look out for him. Jared hadn't minded, but today...of all days, it seemed like it was about to foul up his karma.
As those strange tingles had coursed through him, Jared had felt several pairs of stormy, quietly fuming eyes piercing the back of his head.
One thing Mr. Speight refused to do was to cowtie to anyone's feelings, especially if they were blood-related or married to him. He didn't care much about brandying his newest, most favorite mistress around or that his grumbling, sycophant wife-of-convenience tagged along, hoping to catch every scrap of emotion leftover for her to savor. He hadn't even let it be disproved that he had been intimately dipping into a third intimacy with a direct employee of his own, in the form of his personal assistant, a young man by the name of Matthew Cohen. Forever to be known as "Mr. Cohen" to Jared.
All three pairs of eyes shot daggers at Jared, making him more unneeded, silent enemies, where he hadn't been at fault.
The minute Jared had been picked up in the bullet-proof, heavy-duty terrain, charcoal black SUV, Mr. Speight had prattled on with good humored war stories, depicting a different side to Jeffrey Padalecki that Jared had known secretly existed away from their tyrannical father's eyes, Brigadier General Gerald T. Padalecki. The brothers simply called him, The Brigadier, because he would never wash away those military duties, carrying them home, using them to maturate his two boys into adulthood.
Retired now, going on twelve years, give or take those flubbed years where The Brigadier had gone into retirement, then could barely survive in civilian life, almost pleading to be put into another tour, smaller, but time-consuming. That had been the moment of truth, a test to the worth of The Brigadier's two male offspring, coming closer than ever as family, when sons had to father their patriarch. In that last Army tour, The Brigadier had gone down with the worst viral ailment in decades, returning home, lethargic, feverish and in-and-out of consciousness, soon to be diagnosed with a rare cancer of the blood. Years of choosing to booze and selfishly carouse had torn down those inner organs to the point where they had extremely weakened to be incapable of sustaining life, unless some outside efforts where made to replace those lost, woebegone years in self-torture.
Immediately, Jared had left the Army, moving in to a place near to the US Coast Guard Academy in Connecticut, prepared to seek a permanency for duty at home. The Brigadier and Jeffrey had moved out of the Padalecki homestead in Texas to head toward the East Coast, as well. There were hopes that the VA hospital would help with those radical, experimental treatments meant to help combat the deadly, attacking viral infection head-on. This decision had forced Jeffrey to retire, permanently, to become The Brigadier's sole caregiver, while baby brother would become the success of the Padalecki family, bringing both better wealth and proper insurance coverage.
The only reason Jared considered the First Mate position on The Contessa was for extra job security and a much-more stable form of health insurance, so he could take over paying for The Brigadier's care and well-being. Thankfully, there had been a sudden reprieve into remission, several months into Jared's hire at DeMorgan, but still ancillary bills needed paying, and creditors and money-lenders had been past due, having been skipped or extended to ensure they had the ready cash to help the survival of The Brigadier.
He had always been a good son to an ungrateful parent, sacrificing much of his young life in order to keep safe and sane in an environment created by another's warped vision of family. It had only been the Padalecki men since Jared had been 9yrs old. The Padalecki women, mother and 4yr old daughter, Megan, had left The Brigadier's control. Mrs. Padalecki could no longer withstand the lonely life of a military spouse, all the sniveling and sniping, old friends gossiping about her husband's infidelities, while he went about drinking and sleeping with other women, younger women who liked to be with an older, dominating male. She had known what would happen should he take another tour of duty, and he hadn't cared one iota about what he left behind, nor what he had brought back with him. The Army had always been his first mistress; Mrs. Padalecki had simply been a trophy wife, set-up to make it appear like The Brigadier was every bit the family man the military loves to promote.
When she couldn't take another trip...another bottle to appease the dead emotions or another woman's hands on her husband...she had gone about packing she and her younger childrens' suitcases, planning on taking Jared and Megan back to her parents' home. Jeffrey had already seen a Army recruiter, happy to go to boot-camp at 17, instead of staying to bear alongside his younger siblings, or excuse his mother's disengaging from her marriage. But, The Brigadier had been sneakier, having expected his wife to hand him down an ultimatum, or just leaving him to let him pick up her scattered pieces of the life he helped build with her. So, he had forced her hand, made her choose: she could stay, and tough the hard road ahead, or, she could leave. But, if she left, she could only take one child with her, the one he had doubts was actually his blood relation anyway. Maybe Mrs. Padalecki had an affair, maybe just a simple forgetful one-night-stand that sprouted a child, just so she could feel "something" again. She had chosen to leave, taking her daughter with her, and she never called, never wrote, never even returned to see how her sons were doing, as she cared naught for the bastard of a wrathful man she had once loved.
Jared hadn't known the truth until The Brigadier had been stricken down, sweating profusely, teary-eyed and belligerently repentant for the evil he had stirred and the harmful discourse he had caused for an innocent wife and sweet, loving mother who had only chosen the wrong man to give her whole heart, and life, to. Jared had hated his father for making him think for a millisecond of time that it mattered squat that his baby sister could have only been a half-sibling; they had been close, close in age and close in their feelings enough to form a searing bond that was severely ripped apart the second that car had pulled out of the driveway.
Knowing what he knew, at this point, Jared no longer cared who cheated first, or had kept on cheating and broken hearts. He had learned he still held an unspeakable love for his mother and sister, one that had never truly gone away, even if The Brigadier couldn't forgive or forget. There was a second reason for moving east, and it had everything to do with getting back into contact with the Padalecki women, no matter how much The Brigadier grumbled or Jeffrey grew unpleasantly silent and morose; Jared was antsy to reach out to them once again, and bring mother and child back into his life, if his father and brother wanted nothing to do with them
So...Jared had listened to Mr. Speight drone on and on, smiling and deeply chuckling, here and there, where the stories counted, and then out came the mention of Ackles.
Officer Ackles would be captaining The Sea Swept, the charter yacht about to take its passengers to the private island owned by DeMorgan Enterprises, where the main DeMorgan headquarters was housed. Once on dry land, Jared would split from his fellow boat-riders, and off to the old hanger where the charter company's offices were kept; he actually had an office, a small one, but at least he had a name plaque on the door, so it was HIS.
Mr. Speight's entourage would take a DeMorgan company jet back to a different town or state on the mainland, somewhere other than North Carolina, he suspected. Not everyone in the three limo SUVs would be joining Jared on-board The Sea Swept. Two were being excluded as Mr. Speight's mistress had terrible motion sickness on water and Mr. Speight still liked pampering her, so they would catch a helicopter, on the helipad that was near the docks, then fly to the island to rejoin the entourage on that same jet, taking them all home or to work. All of this was on DeMorgan's dime. Not all of the entourage could seat in the small helicopter, and that had been intentional, so the rest--the disgruntled wife and Mr. Cohen--had to tag-along with Jared. Poor things...but Jared held no pity for either of them; he still kind of liked Mr. Speight, though, just because of the guy's continual give-a-rat's-ass attitude in life.
Jared was confused by all the fussing and becoming so pissy. They were about get a free ride on a YACHT, of all things, where they wouldn't be spied-on by their Boss, Mr. Speight. They would be pampered and coddled like they were visiting royalty, which they were, while this merger was continually on-going. Maybe Mr. Cohen was a bit snippier and snarkier when "Daddy" wasn't around, so the Speight entourage simmered to a low boil, in case Mr. Cohen was a tattle-tale or was some kind of whip-wielder when his own boss wasn't in sight.
Who knew, but Jared was almost looking forward to finding a quiet spot of his own, where he could relax and get calm for the two-hour ride before all hell broke loose, and he had to start acting like an adult again.
First, he had to kill these nerves settling into his belly at the aspect of meeting "Iceman" Ackles, face-to-face, finally able to see what this hype was about, all this talk about them being natural-born enemies.
And second, he had to get over that instant jolt of shock he had when he learned of that lesser-known fact he was now trying to go for the same job as Officer Ackles, who had thought for the longest time that the employment had no rivalry.
Just a bit of a bump in the road, nothing Jared couldn't smooth over before it could get out of control.
TBC...