Breathe

"Day and night takes its toll on my sanity..."

The radio blared behind her as she circled the person in the chair, singing the words softly.

"You listen to the strangest music."

She eyed the brunette vividly, her smile drowning.

"I wouldn't say Godsmack is the strangest I've listened to, Jared. Mindless Self Indulgence racks up with just plain weird."

He laughed, and she continued setting the fake scars on his skin. To say the least, he was used to this. Rachel was the eccentric one of the bunch, and being the leader, she had total command of the music when they began work. He could only grin as another song came, and she began jumping up and down. She stopped, however, when he began staring at her. She shrugged, mouthing the words with the speakers once more.

"What is this, Death Metal Central?"

The figure hunched over the man in the chair straightened instantly at the voice, a grin cracking onto her serious face.

"Shut up, you know you enjoy it."

He laughed, planting a small kiss on her cheek.

"So, what's the treatment today?"

"Torture and pain, as always. I know you wouldn't expect any less," She laughed.

She dabbed the last bit of concealer on Jared's face, giving him a wink.

"I'm all finished, babe. I suppose you can leave my awful music."

"Thanks," He chuckled, stretching his long legs out from the chair.

In a quick second, the next man sat down, and she grinned.

"You will pay dearly for threatening my music, mister."

His eyes seemed to widen as much as they could go, a shock look settling in the rest of his face. She smacked his clothed arm lightly, before turning to gather her equipment. In the lit mirror, he couldn't help but notice the swollen bags underneath her eyes. It was as if she hadn't slept a wink.

He knew she should've had time to. It had been a late day of shooting, a night again. She would have half a day to mend. He couldn't help but worry of what was actually going on. His frown gained happiness as she turned around again, a strip ready to scar his face. He closed his eyes patiently, listening to her sing lightly to the hard rock, and feeling her hands warm on his cool forehead.

"You missed a hell of a party last night," He mused, trying his hardest to move every muscle in his face and mess her up.

She was used to it, and stopped as he tried.

"I hate I missed it, then. To tell the truth I was a little busy. But the thought of shooting some Jack Daniels did sound very appealing when I got home."

He grinned, a chuckle following suit.

"You never do anything softcore, do you?"

He heard her clothes rustle as she shrugged.

"I never find the time to be normal, Ackles."

"Maybe I should feel uncomfortable in this situation, then."