Date: 2007-09-12 05:30 pm (UTC)
Aww...

/is appropriately chastened/

And if I can't remember who's commented on my fic six months ago how can I remember who on my F-list isn't good with titles? Still, I'm just being unnecessarily petulant because I wrote six *SIX* long SPN fic and my SPN friends didn't even read one each. /weeps/

So sorry for dumping that angst on you. You're far better at commenting than the rest of them. Thank you.

In apologia, I offer Amita/Jo microfic!

~

"I like it when you're domestic."

Amita slipped her arms around Jo's waist as she did the dishes, up to her elbows in suds as she attacked the greasy cast iron fry pan like it was possessed.

"You just hate your turn cleaning up," Jo scoffed.

"Well yeah, but do get a kick out of us playing house," Amita admitted. She swept Jo's long blonde tresses to the side and laid a kiss to her neck as she sidled up closer. "It's like that Prince song: Let's Pretend We're Married."

Jo let the pan fall back into the water as she stilled. "Isn't that song about having sex all night?"

Amita ran a hand across Jo's exposed belly, letting her fingertips dip just inside the waistband of her shorts.

"Yes."

Jo looked down at the sink, pondered it for a second or two then dismissed it.

"You know that pan really should soak for a while."

Amita's hand dipped inside.

"My thoughts exactly."

~
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