They would try. And then get thwapped, and possibly put to work sorting books.
Man, how much do I want to see Jilli making the Winchesters clean her house? Thiiiiis much.
'Serenity'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
They would try. And then get thwapped, and possibly put to work sorting books.
Man, how much do I want to see Jilli making the Winchesters clean her house? Thiiiiis much.
They would try. And then get thwapped, and possibly put to work sorting books.
You know, they'd be FAR more useful in the yard. Weeding. Yes.
On one of those warm days where shirts become optional.
(Yes, I'm bored.)
On one of those warm days where shirts become optional.
... I'll be in my bunk.
And then get thwapped, and possibly put to work sorting books.
I don't even watch the damned show, and I want to see this fic. (I blame you lunatics. And also library school.)
... I'll be in my bunk.
See? It's a GOOD PLAN.
Man, how much do I want to see Jilli making the Winchesters clean her house? Thiiiiis much.
Hee! It would make cleaning day much more entertaining, wouldn't it?
You know, they'd be FAR more useful in the yard. Weeding. Yes.
On one of those warm days where shirts become optional.
But Sam is tall, and thus useful for dealing with shelves. I'd put Dean out to work in the yard. Or in the Basement of Doom.
But Sam is tall, and thus useful for dealing with shelves. I'd put Dean out to work in the yard. Or in the Basement of Doom.
Sam could be used to get blackberries out of the apple tree with NO LADDER REQUIRED.
So, this was just in front of my apartment building. While Teh Hottness of the firemen was good, seeing FOUR hook-and-ladder trucks in front of my building is a little unnerving.
Fortunately, the building did not burn down (or at all); some chick on the ground floor burned her dinner. But -- I didn't get the whole story from Paul the handyman -- her smoke alarm was going off, and he went down there and pounded on the door and no one answered, so I'm not sure if she put dinner in and left, or what.
In any case, the firemen were quite pleasing to gaze upon.
Fire bad. Men pretty.
Seriously, it was kind of funny -- I wouldn't have known anything happened (until the FOUR trucks arrived), except I took laundry downstairs and encountered Paul the handyman pounding on the tenant's door. I could hear the smoke alarm beeping, but I figured that Paul would use his master key and open the door if it were serious.
Of course, 30 seconds later I realized that no, he wouldn't, because he didn't want to burn to death, and he had no idea if a raging inferno was inside, or just burned dinner.
And all the while, I kept putting my laundry in the washing machines. Seriously. I figured, even if there was a fire, my clothes would be IN WATER.