SPN ramblings

Mon, 23 Nov 2009 05:36:32 GMT

Untitled
Summary: In which it is apparently bring your characters to work day. Except they are not my characters (Which doubles as a disclaimer).

"I don't know what you're always complainin' about," Dean says, settling into one of the dozen mismatched swivel chairs strewn about the mostly empty office, "That lady seemed sane."

I let out a harsh laugh. "Yeah, that's 'cause I had the information she needed. Trust me, you get someone who's had a bad day or is just plain impatient, it's whole different story."

"I believe it." He twists the chair back and forth with one boot. I turn back to the data entry on my computer and there's a few moments of silence. I can hear him making clicking sounds with his mouth.

"Holy crap, your job is boring," he declares.

"Really?" I say, feigning astonishment, typing away, "I hadn't noticed.”

"Seriously, you spent eight hours a day in this room last summer? The hell'd you do that for?"

"It's called 'money' and I needed it. Credit card fraud's not exactly an option."

Dean bolts up straight and gives me a look, waving furiously at me. "You wanna say that any louder?"

I spin my chair around to face him, me expression flat. "You do realize that no one else can actually see or hear you?"

Dean thinks about this. "True." He goes back to lounging and twisting the chair back and forth. He smirks, chuckles.

I sigh. "What?"

I can just see him shrugging as he says, "Nothin'."

"Dude, what's so funny?

He shrugs. “It’s nothing. I mean, sure, some people may think that talking to the people in your head is unhealthy, but it’s okay.” He pushes the chair to the left to examine a bookshelf full of catalogs and mumbles, “You’re totally balanced.”

I lean back in the chair, folding my arms across my chest. “Yeah? Well, what about you?”

Dean turn back to face me, mirroring my posture, brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

It’s my turn to smirk. “You’re the one I’m talking to, genius. If I’m crazy, what does that make you?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, actually analyzing the question. After a solid minute of silence, he swivels back to the bookshelf, mumbling something else about me being the one who’s unbalanced.

I turn back to my computer and begin entering a new student. “No wonder they say Sam’s the smart one.”

As if on cue, Sam walks in a leans on the doorway behind the monitor. “Hey, I’ve got a question for you,” he says.

I don’t look up from the screen. I’m behind as it is and can do without the distractions. “Shoot.”

Sam holds up a green and brown printed post card with the school’s emblem and a tree on it. He flips it over and examines it, then looks down at me. “This Years for the Environment thing they’ve got going on here—are they serious?”

I sigh, realizing where this is going. Crap. “Yep. Dead serious.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see his eyebrows go up as he chuckles incredulously. “Does the school board even realize what they’re doing? Yeah, they’re planting gardens and recycling a little more and getting rid of hazardous shrubbery—“

“Hazardous shrubbery?” Dean chimes in. “You’re kidding, right?”

Sam goes on as if uninterrupted. “—but just look around! I mean, in this office alone there’s God knows how much wasted paper that has to be thrown out because its glossy finish stops it from being recycled. And then there’s all the paper and other recyclables that are just thrown out because people are too lazy to move their arm a foot to the left when they’re throwing something out—not to mention all the other departments on campus who haven’t jumped on the bandwagon with this thing, or who don’t even bother with recycling at all. It’s an exercise in futility! In fact, I’m thinking it’s actually counter-active, seeing how much paper is wasted through advertising. Think about it—all those postcards and flyers and glossy pamphlets and booklets advertising the “Years for the Environment Campaign” that’ll probably just sit in a storage room downstairs until someone thinks to throw them out? C’mon, the least they could do is…what?”

Dean and I are both staring at him blankly. “Dude,” we say in unison.

Sam shrugs and buries his hands and the postcard in his jacket pocket, donning the beginning of a bitchface. “It’s just…they could stand to make some improvements.”

I glance at Dean. “He’s your brother.”

Dean returns the look, cocking an eyebrow. “You’re the one who had to bring him to work with you.”

Sam lets out a huff as he stalks to a blue swivel chair in the corner. “You guys suck, you know that?”

I swing my chair back to the computer and resume my inputting. “Yep. I’m a horrible person.”

As I begin entering the student’s address, I hear Sam whisper to Dean, “Dude, give it a break, will you? You’re rubbing off on her and I can’t take two of you.”

SPN one shot

Mon, 23 Nov 2009 02:44:14 GMT

Title: Deal
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: G
Spoilers: None
Length: Really short

11:57

He’s knocking on the basement door. He wants to know what she’s doing down there. It’s almost midnight and they’ve both got work in the morning.

She looks up at the locked door. She doesn’t answer him, just listens to the sound of his voice. She steps away from the staircase, into the darkness of the basement. She doesn’t cry. She’s done too much of that. She can’t.

11:58

He wants to know what’s going on. Is she alright? He’s worried about her.

Tell the boys I love them. Tell them its okay. I love you. Never forget that. I love you.

He wants her to unlock the door. She’s scaring him. Is she hurt? Why won’t she answer him?

11:59

She stands there in the middle of the floor. She’s not afraid. She saw a decade of her children’s lives. She’s give anything to see another day, another hour.

Almost anything. One thing—the most important thing—wasn’t hers. Not anymore.

He’s shouting. He’s scared. He can’t open the door.

I love you.

12:00

She’s silent, then screaming.

His heart nearly stops. He breaks through the door’s flimsy lock, races down the stairs. He nearly falls.

He reaches the bottom. The screams have stopped.

She’s gone.

Hypnotists?

Mon, 13 Jul 2009 21:46:04 GMT

Over the weekend, I went to see a hypnotist show. I posted on Twitter about it and got a few replies saying that I should've volunteered. Eh...no. Yeah, I really enjoyed it and it was flipping hilarious, but I don't think I'd ever volunteer. At least not any time soon. Don't think I'd be able to give up that much control, I guess. *is paranoid*

Also? My new awesome pic is thanks to fixatedly_yours

Your Daily Dose of SPN Awesomeness:

One Jump Ahead
www.youtube.com/watch
Thanks to reclaimer for posting the link to this on Twitter.

My Personal Corner of the Institution

SPN ramblings

SPN one shot

Hypnotists?