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[vaznetti]

It is Friday afternoon. I have a huge stack of essays to mark over the weekend. I cannot leave until about 4 pm, because I have student taking an exam. And yet I cannot bring myself to mark, either.

So. Distract me. Prompt me, even.

Comments

[musesfool]

Dean/River!

your walls will not reckon how
strangely my life is curved
since the best he can do
is to peer through windows,unobserved
~ee cummings

[vaznetti]

Not exactly from your prompt, but a Blessings fragment for you -- I guess I'll need to add this into the next part:

Dean's sulking, and he knows he's sulking, and he just wants to be left alone to sulk, damn it. That's what he's down here in the second hold to do: well, that and check their holy water supplies and how many bags of salt they have left. The answer turns out to be fewer than he'd like: no time to resupply between the last mission and Whitefall, and it don't look like they'll be time to stock up on the way to Corinium, neither.

What he don't want is for that damn girl to turn up, sneaking in while his back is turned so that he turns around and there she is, squatting perched on one of the weapons lockers like some kind of crazy bird. "Get down off that," he tells her. "Ain't you made enough trouble

[musesfool]

Oh, awesome. I especially like the "not a bird" because of course, Mal calls her little albatross. *hearts*

[vaznetti]

::headdesk:: You know, I didn't even think of that. It's just that Dean sees her as so birdlike, here.

[musesfool]

Heh. I totally would have been like, "I meant to do that!" *g*

[vaznetti]

Hee! I channel Firefly, clearly.