DorkFish 4: The Ruthless Scheme

Plausible Deniability and Condolences

Saturday, May 1

7:45 P.M.

"While it's not the evening at the opera I'd planned for us so long ago, I thought this would be an acceptable substitute," Jensen said.

Jared looked down at their white sheet splayed over their precious patch of lush grass, surveying the remnants of their picnic dinner of Italian subs a la Singer, chips, pickles, grapes, and Henriot chilling in a sliver ice bucket. A vibrant orange sunset cast a brilliant golden glow over everything in sight, making all of the polished surfaces around them gleam as if they were shining under their own power. The ice bucket...the silverware... the tops of the salt and pepper shakers... the thin rims of the champagne glasses... Jensen's watch ... his bracelet around his ankle... and the smooth face of the long granite headstone sitting peaceful pride before them.

Jared gazed up at the sky, an inverted bowl of fire balanced upon the arrowheads of ancient black hemlocks. Thin wispy clouds streaked across the burning heavens, moving as if they were the trails of smoke from the match that had set the world ablaze. The warm spring breeze picked up then, blowing Jared's hair back from his face as he took a deep, grateful inhale of the early evening air tinged with the trace scent of tobacco and a faint whiff of lavender.

His eyes dropped down to the gravestone again. He was sitting cross-legged on Mary's side while Jensen sat right beside him on John's, Justice slept in a cozy white basket amidst the four of them, the center of their universe.

'My whole family,' Jared thought. 'Everyone I love most, all here in the same place.'

He turned his attention back to his husband, feeling love, life, and light shimmer in his eyes.

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be tonight," he said.

Jensen gave him a soft smile. "I'm glad."

"Glad to be off the hook of the opera, you mean."

"One the contrary, Tesoro, I was looking forward to it."

A slow, sly grin crept across Jared's face. "What did you say to me that night in your secret office? Don't bullshit a bullshitter?"

Rather than share in his levity, Jensen somberly shook his head. "We'll see La Triviata together, Jared. Mark my words."

"Well. Sounds like we have a date, then," he said, and another subtle waft of lavender graced them, evidence of Mary's approval.

"More champagne?"

"Please."

Jensen pulled the condensing bottle from the bucket, water droplets sliding down the green glass onto the sheet, and Jared studied the solemn expression still clouding Jensen's face. Despite the romance of this perfect moment, he has a reservation about him, some tension that seemed to keep him from being fully present, and Jared shivered when a tiny chip of ice dripped onto his ankle.

"He was buried today," he told Jared, his voice quiet as he filled his glass.

'Sobriety explained,' Jared thought. 'At least that part of this nightmare is over, then.'

"Where? And how do you know?" he asked, his tone as pensive as Jensen's.

"We knew each other's last wishes intimately," Jensen answered. "Given our ranks and stations, we had to. He's in Calvary. Section 45. With Pellegrino."

Jared nodded. "Why did it take so long?"

"The police investigation. Locating next of kin. Plus, transporting remains overseas is not the most expedient procedure."