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Summary
"Christ, Jensen," says Pritchard, not looking up from his keyboard, "I'm not fucking you while you're high out of your mind on synthetic pheromones."
Jensen frowns. "Does that mean you'd fuck me if I wasn't?" When did fucking come into this? He's pretty sure he was only angling for a hand-job. Is Francis the kind of guy who just calls everything sexual 'fucking'?
Thinking about Pritchard and any possible meaning of 'fucking' isn't helping much.
Some prototypes of assorted fic that may-or-may not make production.
