#the moment i lost access to it there was a fixed memo in my brain like a quest objective

[blacksurvivalnostalgichanges]

Nicky:I like shoujo manga, but if I have to read ONE more culture festival arc where they perform a play of Cinderella I'm gonna LOSE it!

Rio:The writers can only come up with so many different ways to put their contemporary lead in a princess dress, though.

Nicky:

Nicky:I guess!

[shirtlesssammy]

4x17: It's a Terrible Life

How have we not recapped this yet? Man, this one holds a special place in Boris’s heart -- even if it’s a Cas-less episode. (Natasha: I LITERALLY said the same thing.)

Then:

This is just gratuitous

Now:

Okay, by this point we know the premise of this episode. I’m just going to list all the Well Respected Man things Dean Smith does. 

He wakes up at 6:00am to an iPod. 

He steams his rice milk.

He wears suspenders and cufflinks. 

He drives a Prius.

He turns off the hard rock for NPR. 

Dean Smith is the Director of Sales and Marketing at Sandover Bridge and Iron. 

He types memos in Word.

He uses a headset to talk on the phone. 

He plays office mini-golf while schmoozing on said headset. 

He watches Project Runway (Ok, Dean Winchester totally watches that too, lbr.)

HE EATS SALAD.

He says the word ‘vis-a-vis’.

His boss Mr. Adler is very impressed with him. Good stuff!

He works late.

He is thinking of doing the Master Cleanse. 

He leaves at 5:30 (or really a couple minutes before, rebel!)

On the elevator ride out of the building, another passenger asks if he knows Dean. Dean, focused on his Blackberry, does not recognize the dude. The other dude won’t let it go and Dean tells him to “save it for the health club” before leaving. 

Sam Wesson works in the Tech Support section of Sandover. He mainly tells people to turn it off and back on again. Works every time! Sam and another buddy, Ian, head for coffee. They ask Paul, another worker, if he wants to join them. He’s busy working! Okay, okay, wait one moment. Paul got caught surfing porn on company computers and he still has a job!? WOW. 

Ian grabs some office pencils in the break room. (And we get a nice little intro shot from within the microwave….very nice easter egg for us second (and beyond) viewers.) He then asks Sam about the dreams he’s been having. Sam tells Ian that he dreamed that he saved a grim reaper named Tessa from demons. Ian finds that HILARIOUS. 

At his clown car sized cubicle later, Sam drifts off, only to have vivid visions of murder and monsters --and Dean’s in them. He bolts awake, and looks around disconcerted. 

Sam takes a walk and ends up in the same elevator as Dean again. They eye each other warily. Sam asks Dean what he thinks of ghosts. TOTALLY NORMAL ELEVATOR TALK. Dean hasn’t really given them much thought. Vampires either. Sam decides now is a good time to corner a perfect stranger and tell him about his CRAZY dreams. That’s what a journal is for, Sam! Dean dismisses this crazy man and exits the elevator. 

Sam starts researching (AW BABY) the monsters he’s been dreaming about. Ian interrupts him and tells him that he got an email telling him to report to HR. He’s not too worried as he heads off to his fate. Sam then hears Paul freaking out because he just lost a whole day’s work. 

Paul stays way past closing time trying to find his lost files to no avail. His breath puffs. They must turn the temp down after hours at Sandover. He heads to the breakroom, sticks a plastic fork in the door of the microwave and sticks his head in the microwave, and hits cook. GOOD STUFF. 

The next day, as Paul’s body gets carted away, the entire office looks on, including Sam Wesson and Dean Smith. Dean thinks there’s something weird going on. He looks up Paul’s personnel file (um, like whoa, how did he get access to that?) and learns that he was set to retire in two weeks. Curious. 

Sam is curious as well, but Ian is too busy working to engage. Dean calls Ian up to his office. Dean points out that there were just a few errors in a form he filled out yesterday. Ian is very remorseful. Dean doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal. He just wants him to fix the errors. Very un-Ian-like, Ian starts freaking out over his mistakes. Ian runs to the bathroom and Dean follows. He finds Ian staring at himself in the mirror. His breath frosts just before all the water and soap turn on. He insists Ian leave with him. Ian turns to look at Dean, and stabs himself with a pencil. GUH. Dean sees the reflection of an old man in the bathroom stall door as Ian dies. Dean calls for help. 

Dean is relaying the events to the authorities when he sees Sam looking on. Later, he calls Sam to his office. 

For Thirst Science:

Sam and Dean learn that they both started working at Sandover three weeks prior. (Dean! You picked a hell of a week to start the Master Cleanse!) Sam asks Dean if he saw something when Ian died. Dean doesn’t quite admit it but he saw a ghost! Sam wonders about the suicides. “What if these suicides aren't suicides? I mean, what if they're something not natural?” 

Sam brings up his dreams again. “So you're telling me that your dreams are special visions and you're some kind of psychic?” Lololololol. No, OF COURSE NOT. Sam shows Dean emails that Ian and Paul got that sent them to HR on the 14th floor --the HR office is on the 7th floor. Hmm. They decide to head to the 14th floor and room 1444. 

Mr. Blandface McBlanderson heads there first. It’s an old storage room. The air gets frosty, electronics buzz on. Sam and Dean rush down the hallway after hearing the man’s cries. The door is locked but Sam Fucking Wesson just busts it open. Dean is duly impressed. Sam is too. 

The ghost old man attacks Sam and Dean but Dean smashes him away with a wrench (an IRON wrench).

Decompressing back at Dean’s place, Sam longs for beer. “I’m on a cleanse,” Dean explains as he gets him a water. “I got rid of all the carbs in the house.” Oh DEAN.

At the end of this cleanse you chalk a pentagram on the floor, light a black candle, and barter your soul to get rid of those last five pounds

They compliment each other on their ghost fighting prowess. Sam “Boy Wonder” Wesson briefly tells Dean about how he feels out of place in his life. That’s SO MUCH oversharing, Sam! They decide to hit the research track. Dean finds………..the GHOSTFACERS. 

We montage our way through Smith & Wesson’s research, interspersed with Ghostfacer tips. A guy named Sandover turns out to be the ghost - a workaholic who lived for his company. Turns out he’ll kill for it too. They trace a number of historical deaths to Sandover employees. It turns out that the room with the ghost attack was Sandover’s office. 

The Ghostfacers continue to educate Sam and Dean on the finer points of ghost hunting: SALT. IRON. GUN.

Dean absorbs this, then wonders where one might even purchase a gun. Isn’t there a waiting period? Oh, sweet summer child. This here is the United States of America and it’s far too easy to get a gun. The Ghostfacers lesson continues...

Ed: The aforementioned super-annoying Winchester douchenozzles also taught us this one other thing. You have to burn the remains.

Harry: Okay, this next part gets a little gross. Sometimes you might have to dig up the body. Sorry.

Ed: It's illegal in some states.

Harry: All states.

Ed: Possibly all states.

Smith and Wesson return to the office to search for pieces of non-cremated Sandover. Sam gets cornered by a baby-faced security guard, leaving Dean alone to continue the hunt. In Sam’s elevator, electronics start to glitch. It’s probably nothing! The guard pries open the elevator door and crawls out onto the next floor.

The elevator slips and the guard falls victim to the blood cannon. Sam adds this incident to his list of Terrible Things That Happen in Elevators.

Sam and Dean reconnect by a historical display which includes Sandover’s gloves. Those gloves seem like likely candidates for remnant DNA...and in short order the ghost proves them right. Old Man Sandover zaps in as they break the glass. They fight!

Sandover looks like he’s got the upper hand, lowering his brain-zapping fingers to Dean, when Sam lights the gloves on fire. Sandover goes up like a torch.

Smith and Wesson are amped up after the fight! Sam wants to hunt ghosts full time. Dean scoffs at this. “How would we get by? Stolen credit cards, eating diner food drenched in saturated fats, sharing a crap motel room every night...You don’t want to go fighting ghosts without any health insurance!” Wise words. 

For Look at this Well-Prepared Sunshine Science:

Sam confesses that his hunting dreams featured Dean as well. “What if that’s who we really are?” Sam wonders. 

Dean defends the reality of his life. HE WENT TO STANFORD. His father’s name is Bob, his mother’s name is Ellen, and his sister is Jo. Excuse me. I’m just going to….stand outside my door and HOWL MOURNFULLY about this with the local coyotes. 

“We’re supposed to be someone else.” Sam tells Dean that he started at Sandover because he broke up with Madison - but now her number leads to an animal hospital. (I swear to god, I’m gonna chew off my own arm at this show.) Sam says that Dean’s more than just a corporate suit. Dean shoos Sam from his office. 

The next morning, Sam’s back at the daily grind. He steps back from his phone and then swings a crowbar at it, Office Space style. 

Upstairs, Zachariah smarms his way into Dean’s office and clucks that he looks tired. He’s heard good things about Dean and offers him a generous bonus.

Zachariah hints that a big promotion could happen in 8-10 short years of constant work and sacrifice. The joy in Dean’s eyes fades. Dean turns it down and tells Zachariah that he plans to quit. “I have some other work I have to do,” Dean tells him. “This - it’s not who I’m supposed to be.” Zachariah smiles and zaps Dean’s brain. The camera desaturates.

“My god am I hungry,” a confused Dean observes as Zachariah chuckles. (Stop reading Goop, Dean! Get off that cleanse!) Zachariah explains that he’s Castiel’s boss, and he’s on Earth to ensure that the Winchesters fulfill their destiny - as hunters! 

“You’re a hunter,” Zachariah explains. It’s in Dean’s blood. (I hiss at this.) And if Dean works hard enough, he’ll do everything he’s “destined to do. All of it.” GUH. Zachariah urges Dean to embrace his life. It could be worse, after all!

Semi-quote Kinda Life, Baby:

Good stuff

Did you try turning it off and then on? 

Look, man, I don't know you, okay? But I'm gonna do a public service and let you know that you overshare

How the hell did you know that ghosts are scared of wrenches?

I don’t believe in destiny. I believe in dealing with what’s right in front of us 

Most folks live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things

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[ilyasvieltrevelyanshepard]

78. I never meant to hurt you - ship of your choice :)

Sorry for the delay!!! lots of shiny prompts and ideas keeping me distracted about it >_

“It sounds like you’re carrying some tension. Maybe I can help you get rid of it.” Shepard has left her spot near the wall and stands in front of Garrus, arms crossed and a lopsided grin on her face.

Those words, in her voice… Can mean what he thinks, right? “I, ah, don’t think you’d feel like sparring, Commander.”

Her face blushes slightly, but Shepard keeps eye contact with him, raising a brow in her decisive way. “What if we skipped right to the tiebreaker?” She walks to the console, leaning her hands on it, and the mischievous grin returns with force when she sees his mandibles vibrating. “We could test your reach… and my flexibility.”

Garrus’ piercing blue eyes avoid looking at her face, the harmonics of his voice lowering his tone. “Oh! I didn’t… Huh. Never knew you had a weakness for men with scars.” Looking at her at last, he sees the determination in her eyes, and he feels more comfortable to continue with the conversation, straightening his pose. “Well, why the hell not?” He turns his back to her, using the moment to get the courage to say the next words. “There’s nobody in this galaxy I respect more than you.” Some distant voice in his head remembers him about the differences in their species, “And if we can figure out a way to make it work, then… yeah. Definitely.”

Leaving the spot on the console, she passes beside him near the door, brushing his hand with hers before exiting the room. He follows her movements, eyes fixed on her hips and waist, while she moves away from him, until the closing of the door blocks the view, breaking the charm.

Returning to his spot in the console, he leans on it, talons clenching the sides of it with force. That didn’t happen, right? Jane fucking Shepard can’t be hitting on him, a scarred Turian with a twisted sense of honour… Spirits! But what if-- what if she really feels something for him? He has been bewitched with her since their first day on the Citadel, when he saw first-hand her martial power, her marksmanship, the force of her biotics. He was impressed with her then, maybe a little aroused, because he never fought beside a female this fierce, not even in the Turian Hierarchy. The months on the SR1 only cemented his feelings, but seeing their obvious differences and the way Kaidan looked at her, he just pushed them aside. When everything went FUBAR with the destruction of the Normandy, he stored the feelings in the bottom of his heart before embracing the darkness of Omega and turning himself in the Archangel. And now here he is, again in the Normandy, fighting beside her, covering her six, and she wants for him to do it in more than one way. Just thinking about it makes his heart rate spike. Closing his eyes, he opens and closes his mandibles a couple of times to calm himself, purring softly. ‘Whatever will be, will be. Don’t dwell on it, Vakarian.’ Opening the last file of the calibrations, he put his brain to work in something less distressing.

Two days had passed, and he has been avoiding her systematically. Garrus didn’t know how to talk to her without thinking about it, and his blood boils every single hour of the day when he catches her scent around the ship. He was in the middle of some calibrations when his omnitool beeped with a message.

“Vakarian,

Join me at the cargo bay ASAP. Special mission related.

Shepard.”

Garrus reread the message, just in case he misinterpreted it. Miranda hasn't sent any memo about a mission in the system, and the woman can’t be a lot of things, but absent-mindedly isn’t on the list. Maybe she needs to talk about Cerberus? Jack has been digging into the archives… He was so distracted with his own thoughts that he didn’t see the red light on the control panel of the elevator, which turned green as soon as he pushed it. The doors opened, and he steps into the cargo bay, looking for Shepard. The first thing he notices is that he can’t feel anyone besides them in the area. The second one is Shepard, sitting in a crate at the far end of the cargo bay, wearing a fitting tank top and a pair of cargo pants. When she waves to him, he feels his mandibles vibrate, listening to the low purr like it wasn’t him who was producing it.

Standing from the crate, she beckons to him, and as he walks to her, he sees the set of mats between them. Waiting for him just on the edge of the mats, Shepard crosses her arms until he reaches her, stopping at arm’s distance. “Glad you made it, Garrus.”

They knew one another for years now, and he can say, without any doubt, that she has a plan, so he decides to follow her lead, as always. “Well, Shep. Your message sounded important, so here I am. Someone has to give the good ideas on this ship.”

The grin on her face widened, the green eyes shining under the lights of the cargo bay. “Oh, don’t worry. I got this.” Uncrossing her arms, she reaches for the side pockets of her pants, searching inside for a moment before picking up something in each hand. With the items secured, she smiles broadly, but the gesture didn’t cover the blush on her face. “I have been thinking about our little chat.” His only answer is a little tremor on his mandibles and a twitch of his fingers. “And, against all the best judgement in the universe, I talked with Mordin about it.” The blush intensifies even more, but the fun is clearly written on her face too. “It was-- entertaining, to say something. But…” She throws him a little package and he catches it easily. Shepard keeps talking while he takes a look at the box on his hands. “Yep. Turian condoms. You can buy funny things on Omega, for the correct price.”

Garrus’ hands failed him, and the box falls to the mat with a soft thud. His face, usually stoic even in the middle of a battle, is one of surprise. Mandibles opened and brows raised. With a sigh, Shepard stores back the item on her hand and close the distance to him, recovering the box from the floor and giving it to him again. “I see that you haven’t thought that I was serious about it. Well, keep them, then. I’m not planning to pursue any other turian soon.”

Stepping aside from him, she begins to walk to the lift, face down but with the proud shoulders of a leader. But before she can reach the consoles, Garrus’ talons capture her arm, stopping her. The breath got caught in her throat when his free talon circles her waist and pulls her to him. When her body is pressed against his armour, he wraps his arms around her, keeping her in place. “I doubt, yes. But I had hope. You just surprised me, Shep.”

One of her hands raised to cup his scarred face. “When have I lied to you, Garrus? I meant every word.” Her fingers traced the form of his jaw, fingertips touching the sensible under the mandibles skin softly, making him tighten the grip on her. “Besides, I have done my homework too.” The hand travels up until it rests at the base of his crest, nails scratching softly the area where it joins his scalp. She can feel the vibration of his purr on her back, smiling to herself and giving silent thanks to Joker’s private porn collection. The awkward moment when she asked if he has some material has been worth in exchange of this reaction. “And I got a cream to treat any area your fluids got in touch, just in case it causes me an allergic reaction.”

He is still purring softly while her hands keep scratching his crest. “Good to know. I see that you have planned this better than a field mission. I approve it because it gives me the option to do this…” His tongue traces a line on Shepard’s neck, making her moan softly while tilting her head to give him better access. Using the new expanse of skin under him, he bites her, trying not to apply a lot of force. She mewls, writhing in his arms and making him growl in response. The feeling of her body against his, even through the layers of armour and clothes is making him crazy. When he bites her over the pulse point, and she moans his name, he lost it for a moment, talons piercing the tank top while embedding itself on her soft abdomen, making her scream of pain this time. Garrus let her go and makes her turn in mere seconds, raising the tank top to see the expanse of the damage. “Spirits, Shepard. I’m sorry. I--I never meant to hurt you.” Seeing the droplets of blood on her pink skin his mandibles trembled for a moment, his harmonics changing slightly. “Maybe this is a bad idea.”

Shepard’s hand move to raise his face, resting on his jaw. “First of all. That’s but a scratch, Garrus. I got worse while training. And second--” She closes the distance and plants a soft kiss on his mouth. “You can kiss my cuts to ease the pain.” Letting his face go, she lowers the shirt, using it to clean the blood while smiling at him. “Now, my dear Archangel. Take my little present and follow your Commander. I’m planning to test your reach.” Turning over her heels, she begins to walk to the elevator, stopping near it and looking at him over her shoulder. “And maybe your endurance too. My flexibility will surprise you.”

Garrus picks the box from the ground, purring at her words. “Aye aye, Commander.”