Actions

Work Header

And I Ponder Where My Stapler's Gone

Work Text:

In Misha's first week at his new job, he assumes that two of his coworkers are fucking.

They're really obvious about it, and Misha's really perceptive. So he almost spits his coffee on the break room floor when Jared laughs and corrects him.

"Nah, we're not like that," Jared says. "He has a girlfriend, and just—no. Not gonna happen." Misha notices the tightness around Jared's eyes as he laughs it off, though, so he thinks he's not that far off base.

Still, all he says is, "Cool, man, thanks for telling me. Man, that could've been embarrassing, huh?"

"Hey, don't sweat it," Jared says, which Misha thinks is hilarious coming from someone who sweats as much as Jared does, even in the overly air-conditioned office. "We're all new sometime, right? Welcome to the team, by the way; sorry I didn't say anything before."

"Thanks, man." He extends his hand and doesn't fight it when Jared turns his handshake into a hug. Even apart from the secret gay trysts, this job is turning out to be awesome.

*

Misha's job is in sales, just like six of the other people in the office, including Jensen. It's a pretty decent job, and he surprises himself with how kickass of a salesman he can be. He just gets bored. He's been told that boredom is a hazard of the job, sometimes to the point of being crippling, but Misha used to be in politics. He knows how to find other ways to keep himself occupied.

When Misha gets bored in social situations, he likes to study people. It's just something he's always done—he met his wife that way, actually, when she caught him following her around an electronics store because he wanted to know what kind of person needed an ethernet cable, three flash drives, and a portable DVD player. At work, his cube is across from Jensen's, so he studies Jensen.

Jensen is... tense at work. He keeps his distance from most people, and he always rubs his temples when he gets off the phone with a client. The only time Misha ever sees him unclench is when Jared comes around.

Jared's in customer service, which is in a completely different set of cubicles on the other side of the office, but he always makes a point to stop by sales at least once a day. He claims it makes him better at his job if he knows what they're up to. Everyone knows he's just there to see Jensen, though, except probably Jensen.

"Hey, guys!" Jared says, just like every other day. "Made any big sales today?"

Jensen's just hanging up with a client, shoulders hunched, when Jared shows up. "Hey, Jensen," Jared says when he sees Jensen's off the phone. Misha rolls into his doorway to watch as Jared invades Jensen's cube, peering over his shoulder and playing with his miniature Millennium Falcon and generally being a nuisance. It's like kindergarten all over again.

"Today sucks," Sandy announces, rolling her chair out into the walkway. "Jared, tell me my life is not a sham?"

"Your life is not a sham," Jared says solemnly. "Plus, if you run away and join the circus, who will keep the rest of this department in line?"

"Damn straight," Sandy says. She rolls forward and kicks the front of Misha's chair to emphasize her point, so Misha obviously has to move into the walkway to kick at the levers on hers. That's how Chair Skirmishes are played.

Jared grins as he watches them. "Well, hey, I was just heading to lunch. Anyone want to join me?" He glances in Jensen's direction as he says it, this hungry look in his eyes. Misha's ninety percent sure that Jared's not a cannibal.

Jensen shakes his head, and some of the tension comes back. "I gotta finish up some stuff first. Send some e-mails, you know."

"You work too hard," Jared says, ruffling Jensen's hair. Jensen makes a noise and ducks away, pushing his glasses back up as he grins at Jared. "Catch you next time?"

"You bet," Jensen mumbles. He's already turning back to his desk when Jared leaves, like he doesn't want to watch him go, even though Jared's ass is particularly stunning in the tight brown slacks he's wearing today.

Jared's obviously pining away. Jensen's clearly miserable. It's a match made in codependent heaven.

Misha needs a plan.

*

"Hey," he says, sidling up to the receptionist desk.

Gen barely looks up from her typing. "One, I'm busy, and two, I'm not interested."

Misha scoffs. "You're not busy." He peers over the top of her monitor. "That's not even your work e-mail. You better not be trying to take over the world without me."

"Why would I want to take over the world?" Gen reduces her browser, blushing. "What do you want?"

Misha can think of lots of good reasons to become the benevolent dictator of Earth—namely, the free food and an endless supply of papier-mâché trees—but he privately agrees that Gen's not really dictator material. "What do you know about Jared and Jensen?"

She shrugs. "Jensen's nice. Kind of quiet, doesn't say much to me. He even makes his own copies. He's been with this girl named Danneel almost since he started here, which breaks hearts daily, lemme tell you. Jared's in my fantasy football league." Gen starts twirling a pen between her fingers. "I thought something might happen there for a while, but he was never that into me. Sweet as hell, though, terrific friend."

Misha chooses his next words carefully. "You ever think that the reason he wasn't into you was that he was into someone else around here? Like, say, a tall, quiet guy whose name rhymes with Schmensen?"

"You kidding? I hoped that was the reason. Otherwise, I might have to start feeling bad about myself, and that really doesn't sound like fun."

Misha grins and leans in, whispering, "I have a special project. Top secret. You in?"

"Only if we get to synchronize our watches," Gen whispers back.

*

"So here's the thing," Gen says. "It's gonna be tough to get Jared alone. Trust me, I tried for months."

Misha nods, humming a jaunty tune that kind of resembles the Vader theme. Or the Jeopardy one, he can't remember. He has his suspicions about Alex Trebek.

"Our plan has to be subtle," he says. "If they find out, Jared will just smile and deny everything, and Jensen will turn his cube into a fortress. Hey, now there's a plan." He scribbles 'dig a moat around cubicle' in the margin of his notepad.

Gen peers over to see what he's writing. "You remember that we're on the third floor, right?"

"Hey, I've got skills, bitch," Misha shoots back. He thinks about what he just said, then shakes his head. "Please don't tell Mike I called you a bitch. Or that I'm about to swear in the office. Fucking Chad."

Gen laughs. "Who's Chad?"

"Chad's my boyfriend," Misha says cheerfully. "My wife and I met him online. Don't worry, he's not an axe murderer. We had him vetted by a professional."

"I'm sort of terrified to ask whether you mean a cop or a professional axe murderer," Gen says. "But anyway, I have a couple of ideas on how to get the Js into each other's pants." She glances through the door of the break room to where Jared's helping David move some boxes of accounting binders. "Because god knows, someone in this office should be tapping that."

*

Plan A: Operation Jabberwocky

"Hey, Jensen." Misha spins around in his chair as he talks. "I just sent you our sales numbers for last month. Can you look it over and then forward it to Chris and Eric?"

"Yeah, sure." Jensen refreshes his e-mail and pulls up the spreadsheet. "Looks good, man," he says after skimming over it.

"Great," Misha says. He stops spinning to watch Jensen forward the e-mail. "Oh, man, I totally forgot!" he exclaims after Jensen presses send. "Can you also send it to Jared?"

Jensen gives him a strange look. "Why does Jared need our sales numbers?"

Misha shrugs. "Who knows why? I'm just the messenger this time. You'll have to ask Jared, I guess." He tries to make his face as innocent and beguiling as possible. All the amateur theater he did in college is finally paying off.

"Whatever, man," Jensen says as he types another e-mail and sends it. "Done."

"Cool, thanks." Misha nods in satisfaction. So far, his plan is working out perfectly.

After that, there's stupid forwards, other things he or Gen find to pass on to Jared, whatever they can think of. Jensen doesn't always follow through, but it's often enough that Misha's satisfied.

A few days later, Gen sends an email.

From: gcortese@kripkeent.com
To: jackles@kripkeent.com
BCC: mcollins@kripkeent.com
Subject: Secret!

Jensen,

A few of the girls were asking around, and I thought you might be able to find out. Can you ask Jared if he has a "type"? Try not to let him know what you're up to—wouldn't want anyone to be embarrassed!

Thanks,
Genevieve

Jensen laughs a little when he gets the e-mail. "Because that's totally appropriate for the office."

"What?" Misha says. He jumps out of his chair and crosses the aisle to peer over Jensen's shoulder at the e-mail he just read a second ago.

"Office gossip. The usual," Jensen says dismissively. He opens a new e-mail and starts typing anyway, though.

From: jackles@kripkeent.com
To: jpadalec@kripkeent.com
Subject: The gossip parade strikes back

Jared,

I'm not supposed to tell you who coerced me into asking, but let's just say she knows how to make my life a living hell if I don't give in. Apparently, some people around here want to know what you like in a girlfriend? I don't know. Personally, I'd stay far, far away from dating most of the people here.

Jensen

"How do you know he wants a girlfriend?" Misha asks.

Jensen sighs. "Misha, not everyone is as open as you about their sexuality. And trust me, I'm grateful for that. Really didn't need to know what you did in the office parking lot when you had lunch with your wife the other day, by the way."

Misha ignores the last part. It's not his fault that Allie came back from lunch early that day. "So you're not even just a little bit curious?" He spins Jensen's chair around so Jensen faces him, which means he has to watch when Jensen's face closes off.

"None of my business. If—if—Jared happens to like guys and wants to tell me about it, then that's up to him." Jensen turns back around and sends his e-mail. "Until then? I'm not gonna pry into something that might not even be true." He says the last part quietly, like he's not sure he wants Misha to hear.

Misha tells Gen to give up on the e-mail campaign after that. There's being on a holy mission to hook his coworkers up, and then there's whatever this is. Time for a new tactic.

*

Plan B: Operation Closet Case

In between sales calls, checking his e-mail, and updating his Twitter, Misha schemes.

Step one of the master plan, while not a failure, was admittedly amateur. He and Gen need to up their game or the boys will probably never make good on their epic love. He spends a few days trying to think of something before he gives in and asks Vicki after dinner.

"They're just—it's so obvious," Misha says, flailing a little as he loads the dishwasher. "Okay, you know how I'm kind of psychic?"

"Careful with the plates," she says. "And you're not psychic."

"I said kind of. Remember, I knew when—whatever, not the point. The point is that Jensen and Jared belong together, and they'll never do anything about it!" Misha turns the dishwasher on and flops into one of the kitchen chairs. "Seriously, what would you do if people were tormenting you constantly with their sexual tension?"

Vicki takes a sip of her wine and raises an eyebrow at him. "In your hypothetical scenario, are these people you or Chad? Because I definitely remember having to tie you up to get you to admit that you liked him."

"That was a completely different—hey, that's not actually a bad idea." Misha feels his brain start working. Maybe not forced bondage, but something involving close quarters, where they'd have to be alone.

"No," Vicki says after taking one look at him. "Absolutely not. Mish, don't you dare tie those boys together."

Misha waves a hand in the air. "Nah, Mike in HR would have my ass if I tried. Which, he's kind of hot and awesome, but we have a boyfriend."

Chad wanders back into the kitchen then, like he knew they were talking about him. "'Sup, bitches?"

Vicki turns around in her chair. "Hey, remember that time I tied Misha to the bed so he would own up to his massive crush on you?"

Chad's eyes glaze over a little. "That was bitchin'," he agrees. "Especially the part where he thought I was awesome." He pulls out a chair. "So what are we talking about?"

"I'm going to lock two of my male coworkers in a closet and force them to admit their love for each other," Misha says. He just came up with the idea about two seconds before he said it, but it seems more solid when he says it out loud.

Chad thinks about this for a second. "Are they hot?"

"Totally," Misha says. "Not really my type, but definitely hot. Hot for each other, too."

"Kickass." Chad high-fives him, which—Misha's not sure if that makes him feel any better, but he'll take any and all encouragement.

"Just don't do anything really illegal, okay?" Vicki sighs as she drains her glass. "I don't have time to come bail you out of Kripke's jail tomorrow."

"It'd be Clif's jail," Misha informs her. "Eric doesn't have his own personal jail in the conference room. He just calls building security."

She stands up and leans over to kiss his cheek. "I'm so glad you're on a first name basis with the security in your office building, baby. Never change."

"Does this mean I have your permission to lock up the boys?" Misha says as she leaves the room. She flips him off, which Misha decides to take as a yes.

The next day at work, Misha stops at Gen's desk when he walks in the door. "So I think we should lock up the boys."

"Good morning, Misha," she says. "Did you sleep well, or did you spend all night thinking up new and creative ways to get us both fired?"

"No, come on, it'll be awesome," he wheedles. He glances around to see if anyone is overhearing them, then decides not to take his chances. For all he knows, someone in this office thinks he's a Russian spy and has installed a hidden camera. It's the kind of thing he'd do if he suspected himself. "Not here. Come with me."

She gives him a resigned look, then switches the phone to voicemail and follows him into the hallway. "Hey, you know, I'm totally committed to making Jared and Jensen have the buttsex. But this is, like, nine kinds of illegal."

"No, only five kinds." When Gen still doesn't look convinced, Misha tries again. "What if we just get them in the break room together and accidentally make the door jam?"

"It's too big," she says, shaking her head. "If we're actually going through with this—and by the way, you are totally taking the fall when we get caught—we need something more... confining." Gen smirks at him like the mastermind-in-training he always knew she could be. Misha's so proud. "Like maybe the supply closet?"

The supply closet is one of those walk-in deals that, except for all the old computer parts lying around, sort of looks like a Staples exploded in it. It's easy enough to convince Jensen that he desperately needs more paper clips, and since Jensen is making a coffee run anyway, could he just grab a box on his way back?

By now, Misha's sure that Gen's gotten Jared with her excuse about needing a new box of paper. He's a complete sucker for anyone in need. Gen and Eric are the only ones with keys, so she has to go with them both, and Misha grins when he hears the muffled shouts from the front of the office.

"Oops!" Gen is saying when Misha saunters up. "I must have accidentally let go of the door. Sorry about that!" To her credit, she's playing up the innocent factor, all big eyes and hand gestures. Helpless female isn't very original or forward-thinking material, but a propensity for deception is an important part of running the world.

"Very funny," Jensen says. "Can we come out now? It's a little cramped in here."

Gen and Misha snicker. "Sure, Jensen," Gen says. "You can come out of the closet whenever you feel ready. We're all here to support you."

"This office is a circle of trust," Misha adds.

"Oh, that is just—"

Jared cuts him off. "Y'all know that once we get out of here, we are so getting you back for this, right?"

"Yeah, we figured," Gen says. "But hey! We'll still be more awesome than you."

Before Jared can retort, the front door opens, and an extremely striking but harried redhead breezes in. "Hey," she says to Gen. "Is Jensen in?"

From the closet, Misha can just make out Jensen's muffled voice. "Oh, shit, Danny's here."

"Jensen's—unavailable at the moment," Gen says smoothly. Misha can see from the way Gen's eyes widen for a second that she recognizes the girl. "But if you can just sign in for me, I'll let him know you're here, Danneel." She stresses the name, glancing over at Misha and ignoring the weird look Danneel gives her.

Danneel does so, and Misha takes the opportunity to study her. Apparently, Jensen's girlfriend is not a myth, plus she's hot. She was kind of checking Gen out, though, so she might still be a lesbian. Misha loves lesbians; they always have awesome porn and awesome weed.

As soon as Danneel sits down, she pulls an iPhone out of her blazer pocket and starts tapping on it, so she's either a Tetris fiend or the kind of person who needs to check her e-mail sixty times a day. Knowing Jensen, and given the life-or-death concentration on her face, Misha figures Tetris or maybe Sudoku. She's dressed more formally than most of the people in the office, which means she probably works for a more uptight company, but she's slouching, which means she doesn't care what people think of her.

Misha sort of hates himself for it, but he spends a moment trying to find some indefinable thing about Danneel that makes her not right for Jensen. He's halfway between disappointed and relieved when he's distracted by the closet door handle jiggling.

Danneel looks over at the door curiously. "That totally wasn't just me, right? Because I really do not have time to go crazy this week. My boss'll kill me, god."

The door flies open before anyone can answer her, and Jared and Jensen tumble out into a heap. "I told you not to lean on it, asshole," Jared grumbles. He pulls himself up and reaches a hand out for Jensen, who's already halfway to standing. Jared turns the gesture into brushing dust off Jensen's pressed shirt. Misha can see Danneel's eyes narrow, just slightly.

"I didn't think it would actually work," Jensen says. "By the way, we totally just picked the lock in there with a paper clip." He tosses the open box to Misha, who catches it, of course. He was expecting that. "You might want to look into something more secure next time."

Danneel stands up, looking amused, and walks over to Jensen. "I see you've been busy today."

Jensen suddenly looks embarrassed. "I—yeah. Kind of. This is Misha, by the way, he's the new guy I was telling you about."

Misha sheepishly offers his hand. "Misha Collins, sales. I only masterminded today's events for your viewing pleasure. Gen's the executor."

"I like you, Misha Collins, sales." Danneel shakes his hand. "Just don't go locking my boyfriend up again."

"I'll try, but you know, he's just so pretty." Misha shrugs a little. "My wife says I have a sickness. Actually, she says a lot of things about my mental well-being, but that's what I get for marrying an anthropologist."

"I'll watch out for that." Danneel laughs a little and takes Jensen's hand. Misha notes that she's careful to make sure Jared's watching. "Now come on, baby, I'm starving."

Jensen waves a little to the office in general as he and Danneel leave. Jared lingers for a minute, like he's thinking about saying something, then blurts out, "Just wait until next week. You are both so dead. Especially you, evil mastermind." He jabs a finger into Misha's chest, grinning manically.

Misha grins back. "I prefer supreme overlord, but I think I can live with that title."

When Gen and Misha come into work the following Monday and find all their furniture and supplies replaced with crudely constructed cardboard versions, no one's surprised. Misha does think about offering the boys furniture construction tips after his new chair collapses, though.

*

Danneel breaks up with Jensen a couple weeks later. It's not exactly a victory for Misha, especially since he kind of liked Danneel, but he figures it won't hurt to count it as one anyway.

Jensen doesn't say anything, but Misha can tell by the way he holds himself. It's not the walk of a man currently in possession of a hot, successful girlfriend anymore; it's the walk of someone who can't ever catch a break.

Sandy notices as soon as Jensen walks by her on his way back from the break room. "Jensen, what happened?"

"Danneel broke up with me," Jensen says flatly as he sits down. Misha gives himself a mental high five. "I don't know—I don't really want to talk about it." He scrubs a hand over his face.

"Well, I'm always here if you need anything," Sandy chirps in a sympathetic voice.

Misha turns to Jensen. "I'm currently in negotiations with a very high-priced Asian call girl," he announces. "I can get you a sweet deal if you're interested."

Jensen stares at him.

"To help with the tension," Misha adds helpfully. "I can ask her to recommend a male escort. I'm sure she has lots of friends in the business." It's not a complete lie—he actually does know some people, mostly through Vicki's research—but he just wants to see how Jensen will react, make sure that he knows that gay sex isn't outside the realm of possibility.

"I—thanks, Misha," Jensen manages. "That's actually kind of sweet. If a little misguided and illegal." He's still eyeing Misha warily.

"Aren't you married?" Sandy pipes up.

"My wife and I have an understanding," he says, even though he was never talking about real call girls in the first place. They're a metaphor for Jensen's new sexual freedom. Or something. The metaphor needs work.

"Oh," Sandy says. "Like an open relationship?"

Misha shrugs. "Sure, yeah. I tell her about when I donate to the girls' college funds, and she tells me about her wild lesbian orgies. We're writing a book about it." He thinks about bringing Chad into this, but he decides that it might not be nice to flaunt his real and awesome sex life in front of Jensen right now.

Sandy and Jensen are now openly eyeing him with mistrust, and Misha sighs. He's so underappreciated. "I'm just kidding. There are no lesbian orgies. Though I did help a stripper go to college one time, but that was because she's my cousin, not because she takes her clothes off for money."

"Awesome. Good for you," Jensen says. "Well, hey, if we're done with the pep talk, I kind of just want to get some work done, if that's okay with everyone."

Sandy pats his shoulder and retreats to her cube. "Sure, yeah," she murmurs as she leaves. Misha turns back to his desk, but he doesn't stop watching Jensen, who buries himself in paperwork and spreadsheets all day and forwards half his calls to Steve. Steve is a terrible salesman who flirts shamelessly with all their clients, so Jensen must be feeling really depressed and vindictive.

The only time Jensen surfaces is when Jared comes by around midday, right on schedule. Jared must notice something's up because he goes straight to Jensen's desk. "Hey," he says, his voice low so he won't spook Jensen. Jensen startles anyway, but his shoulders relax when he sees who it is.

"Sorry. Rough day," Jensen mumbles.

"You wanna get out of here?" Jared says. When Jensen gives him a wary look, he raises his hands in defense. "I won't make you talk about whatever's bugging you, I promise. Just looked like you could use a friend to buy you lunch. Maybe get you away from your desk for a few?" He waves his hand at the mess of papers and the taskbar full of open programs that have taken over Jensen's cube.

Jensen hesitates, obviously weighing something in his mind, then nods and stands up. "Sure. I could probably use the break." Jared leads the way, and the two of them go off together.

That's an interesting development.

*

Plan C: Operation Tango

Eric actually gives Misha the idea for step three. He writes horror-slash-romance novels in his spare time, none of which have found a publisher yet. Misha admires the way Eric lives in hope.

One of Eric's books is about some sort of weird spirits that haunt a ballroom and compel people to dance until they die. This obviously leads to the main characters, a male buddy duo with crazy sexual tension, having to dance with each other and share a moment before they team up to get rid of the ghosts. It's all very heartwarming, if a little overdone for the genre.

Anyway, Misha figures it can't hurt to apply the theory to real life. Chad disagrees, but the last time Chad had a theory about anything, he blew up the toaster. So, you know.

"Hiya, Misha," Eric says when Misha knocks on his office doorframe. "What can I do you for?"

Misha just barely restrains himself from making any of the obvious jokes. "So I know I'm still the new guy here, but I have a couple of ideas to boost morale," he says instead.

Eric picks up the Slinky on his desk and starts playing with it. "What'd you have in mind?"

"Dance contest," Misha says decisively. "Everyone participates. Look, I already made a schedule and a list of possible partners." Jared and Jensen are partnered together on it, of course. He even had the foresight to include some other same-gender pairs so they wouldn't feel awkward about it.

"An office-wide dance contest?" Eric takes the printout from him. "If I tell you I'll look this over and think about it, that's sort of a cop-out, right?"

"Kind of," Misha admits.

Eric makes a humming noise. "What if I look you in the eye and tell you I will seriously consider your madcap scheme, the ends of which I can only guess at?"

Misha grins. "You know me too well, boss. In a few years, when I'm running the world, I might even let you challenge me for my position."

Eric ends up sending him a veto e-mail, but Misha's still determined to know something. "Hey, Jensen."

"What," Jensen says as he moves some cards around in his solitaire game.

"If someone told you that you had to dance the tango with Jared to save the world, you'd do it, right?"

Jensen thinks for a minute. "Do I get to lead?"

"No way," Misha scoffs. "You're a midget next to him. People would laugh at you."

"Screw you." Jensen wins his solitaire and sits there watching the cards leap from their suits. "I'd still do it," he says quietly. "Gotta save the world, right?"

"Yeah," Misha says, grinning. "It would really suck if the world ended because of you."

*

Plan D: Operation Mistletoe

By the time the holiday party rolls around, Misha's just about to give up on Jared and Jensen. It's been months, and despite all his work and their ever-expanding sexual tension, they're still no closer to creating a new parallel universe with the explosive power of their love. In retrospect, that Syfy marathon Misha watched was possibly a bad decision.

"Okay!" Eric says, rubbing his hands together in that way that makes him look like he's plotting something. Misha approves. "Welcome to the annual Kripke Enterprises non-denominational winter holiday party!" He bounces on the balls of his feet. "You all worked really hard this quarter, and, barring the zombie apocalypse, I know we'll have an even better 2010." There's a smattering of nervous chuckles. Misha's not worried about zombies—if the undead come for them, he's ready. "Let's give our party planning committee a hand, and then I think Sandy has an announcement?"

They all clap dutifully. Jared actually takes a bow, which is fair enough, considering he was the only one on the committee tall enough to get the tree upstairs. Then Sandy steps in front of the room.

"Hey, guys!" she says. "I just wanted to remind everyone that our holiday toy and canned food drives are ending this week. If you brought anything with you tonight, the boxes are now up here by the tree." She picks up one of the glitter-covered cardboard boxes and waves it around. "Thanks so much, you guys are awesome!"

People start milling around then, most gravitating towards the food and punch. Misha watches in amusement as Chad walks over to Chris from accounting and says something that makes him threaten to kick Chad's ass. Chris says he's going to kick everyone's ass and never actually does, though, so Misha figures Chad can take care of himself for now.

In the end, all it takes is some spiked eggnog and liberal application of mistletoe to have Jared and Jensen in each other's arms. Misha watches with anticipation as they both realize at the same time what they're standing under, and then slowly, tentatively, Jared cups Jensen's face and kisses him on the lips. Jensen ducks his head, grinning like a madman, then surges up and kisses Jared again, almost knocking him over with the force of it.

Misha's almost embarrassed at how much of a cliche they are. They're kissing by the copier, for fuck's sake.

"Looks like your devious plan finally worked," Vicki says, appearing at his elbow with a glass of punch. Seriously, he has no idea how she manages to sneak up on him like that.

"About fucking time." Misha puts an arm around her and kisses the top of her head. "And I couldn't have done it without your supportive lack of encouragement." He means it—Vicki's listened to him bitch about the stupid and uncooperative boys over and over, and he doesn't know what he would have ended up doing if she hadn't been there to talk him out of most of his insane schemes. Some of them involved bungee ropes and forged marriage licenses.

Gen wanders over then and gives him a covert high five. She has tinsel in her hair. "If I had known this was all it would take, I would have suggested a Christmas in July party."

"The mistletoe was a genius touch," Misha tells her. "You're more devious than I thought. Jared had to have been sitting right there when you suggested it."

Gen smirks. "He totally was. I bet he was hoping for the same thing we were."

"Oh, probably," Vicki agrees. "I'm assuming you're Gen? Misha keeps talking about how you've been helping him out. I'm Vicki, by the way." She extends her hand.

"Oh, his wife! Yeah, definitely, he talks about you all the time." Gen shakes Vicki's hand and leans in. "Sometimes in more detail than most of us are comfortable with, to be honest."

"Mishaaaaa." Vicki reaches up to hit him on the back of the head. "Stop making people jealous of how awesome we are."

"Ow, hey, jeez." Misha rubs his head. "I'm gonna go over there. Don't put your evil together and blow up the world while I'm gone."

Misha goes over to where Jared and Jensen are sitting and talking quietly, probably about how long they've been pining for each other and what-took-you-so-longs. He doesn't expect them to turn identical wicked grins on him.

"We figured out what you've been doing," Jared announces. "But it's okay because we're going out now, and I'm going to take him home later and fuck him until he can't walk."

"Not if you tell everyone in the office about it," Jensen grumbles, nudging Jared. He can't keep the happiness off his face. Misha's pleased, even though he'll clearly have to be more subtle the next time he schemes.

"I'm not telling everyone, just Misha. I thought he deserved to know after he apparently spent all that time trying to get our sorry asses to hook up." Jared looks like he'd stand up on a table and yell it to the entire room if Jensen and social decency would let him.

Misha nods. "May you have many years of mind-blowing sex and not killing each other. Oh, and live long and prosper." He flashes them the Vulcan salute.

Jensen raises an eyebrow. "That's romantic."

"Thanks, man," Jared says. He jumps up and hugs Misha. "Really. I appreciate it."

"Oof. You're welcome."

Chad comes up behind Misha and slaps his ass. "Yo, this party blows. Wanna get drunk and fuck on your desk?"

"Chad," Misha says. "This is Jared and Jensen."

"Dude, no way! These are the homos you hooked up?" He high-fives the boys. "Chad Murray. I also respond to The Chadster or Mr. Super Awesome Man. I thought you bitches were never gonna do it!"

"Technically, we still haven't," Jensen says. "We should get on that."

"We really, really should," Jared agrees. "Like, right now, in fact."

Jensen stands up. "Nice to meet you, Chad. We're going now." Jared takes his hand and drags him off, and Misha watches them leave, satisfied with his work.

"So can we fool around in the closet now?" Chad asks hopefully.

Misha sighs, as if the idea is a total hardship on his soul. "If we must. Just let me find Vicki first."