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summary: its the night before you start your new job at the PMTC and your at a loose end. Deciding to take advantage of not knowing anyone in a new city, you head to your local bar and unexpectedly hit things off with the silver fox sitting at the bar. One casual encounter later, you learn the consequences of not fully vetting the person you sleep with when you walk into your new job and are faced with the man you let fuck you into blissed out oblivion as your new boss.
warnings/tags: Smut, MDNI 18 +, no use of y/n, widower jack abbot, piv, protected sex, oral (m and f receiving), one night stand, jack abbot is a bit of an ass in this soz, one night stand, strangers to coworkers, nurse!reader, reader has a vagina and long hair otherwise not described, jack abbot misses his wife, canon divergence jack abbot has a son and isn’t a great dad, its a bit of a i can fix him set up.
a/n: hi guys!! I’m back, the past few weeks have been crazy, i work two jobs and have a family event this week so i really needed to lock in but wanted to get the start of this story out there, sorry if it seems a bit rushed at the end, idk what to do with the ending bc i want to carry it on a bit more! this was lowkey inspired by a guy i slept with recently lmaooooo. Let me know what u think of this, I have an idea of how to continue it on so lemme know if you want to read more of it!!
dividers from: @pixopix (pink dividers) and @strangergraphics (reblog)
Jack Abbot was one to keep to himself, dating is most definitely not on his radar; apart from the odd few casual encounters since his wife died, he kept people at arms length. But god, Jack was at the end of his tether this week. His residents were playing musical chairs with the dayshift, making it hard to feel like he had a reliable team day in day out; his right hand man was preoccupied with his death trip; the heat of the Pittsburgh summer seemed to turn people in to idiots with the night shifts being particularly grueling; and SWAT had one too many close calls recently, including Jack himself getting caught in the crossfire. Hell, that’s only the professional aspect of things; his garage door had decided to kick the bucket; the main bathroom’s faucet was constantly leaking, waking him up at regular intervals; he’d broken his favourite mug, the one that has green and yellow flowers that his wife used to drink from every morning; and to top it all off, their son, had decided to stay in his college town five hours away for the summer, going essentially MIA, dodging Jack’s calls for the past two weeks. He couldn’t even blame him for it, Jack had no right to want to hop in his car and go and drag him back home to visit, not when Jack essentially became a work obsessed shell of himself in the five years since his wife died. He couldn’t be mad at him for not wanting to spend his mother’s fifth anniversary with Jack, who at the best of times could barely say her name to him and refused to acknowledge the fact that he replaced his wife with his work, rather than focusing on his son. It was something he was working on getting better, mainly in an effort to mend his relationship with his son, but Jack had thrown himself into work in the lead up to tonight, hoping and praying that today wouldn’t feel so suffocating, but it really wasn’t much use. Normally, Jack wouldn’t be on his own nursing the end of a glass of whiskey; at the very least Robby would be with him, or even better, he would be at home watching a movie in complete silence with his son, but to him, both had abandoned him and left him with no real option other than to attempt to get completely blind drunk. So, here he was, sat at the bar on a Tuesday evening, pathetically staring into the half drank glass of whiskey that he was tipping around in his hands, like a pathetic cliche, you may as well plaster a sign to his head that say ‘sad old widower right here’ to his forehead. But Jack’s brain wasn’t focusing too much on how he appears and is much more focused on drowning out his thoughts as much as possible, pushing the thoughts of his dead wife right to the back of his mind. Jack hadn’t planned on making the night of his wife’s fifth anniversary a night that ended with a casual hookup, that was, until you walked into the bar, fresh evening summer air surrounding you as you sat at the free stool beside Jack.
When you walked into the bar, you really hadn’t planned on even talking to someone, nevermind flirting with anyone; you’d barely been in Pittsburgh for a week, boxes still donned your apartment, your scrubs, text books and the odd piece of cutlery unpacked, the essentials mainly. In need of a change, you’d taken up a position as an ER nurse here in Pittsburgh and at a loose end the day before your first shift, you decided to scope out the local bar scene. Not normally one to go out drinking alone, you shared your location with your friend back home, threw on a casual jumper and jeans and did your make-up to help you feel a bit presentable and popped your book into your bag and headed out the door. Heading to the local, according to google and tiktok anyways, designated cosy bar, you take in the soft light of the warm summer evening that is cast over the bar. Even though it is midweek, the small bar is crowded, with tables of couples softly speaking under orange lighting and red velvet booths providing a level of intimacy to the bar. You walk around for a moment, peaking around the corners of the bar looking for a free table where you won’t feel too exposed on your own, but as it seemed like half of the Pittsburgh population decided to do something similar with their evening, you took the last free seat at the bar. Ordering a glass of chilled white wine, you pull out your book and get comfortable for the evening, enjoying the liberty of reading in a bar where no one knows you. As you settle into your book, the world melts away from you, stress of starting a new job tomorrow evening dissipating completely. Completely engrossed in your book, you don’t notice Jack’s intense stare at first, sure, you didn’t notice the fact his eyes landed on you the moment you walked into the bar. His mind had been pulled from the rumination spiral by the sight of your hair, if he wasn’t thinking straight, Jack would have taken a double glance to make sure you weren’t his late wife walking through the door. Not that you looked particularly like her, it was more just the fact that your hair was the same, soft curls falling around your shoulders, half pinned up, just like hers used to be, making him unable to keep fixating on you as you walked around for a minute looking for a table before settling on the stool beside him. After a few minutes, and a nagging feeling that someone is watching you, you look up from your book, and catch Jack's diverting gaze. He had tried not to stare at you, ordering another glass of whiskey and pulling his phone out, but he just couldn’t help himself, internally berating himself for being such a cliche tonight. With a slight smile you acknowledge Jack, and the fact that you caught him staring, catching his eye, and return to your book. In what seems like a constrained attempt to get your attention Jack murmurs a gruffed
“Solid book choice sweetheart”
Looking up again with more purpose, you take in the sight sitting beside you, eyes widening slightly at the state of the man sitting beside you. Silver hair speckled with remnants of auburn curls along his forehead, sticking slightly with the humidity of the evening, fierce hazel eyes that bore into you, but really your eyes are drawn to the smirk plastered across his face and the buff arms practically bulging out of his dark cotton polo shirt. In a feeble attempt to cover up you ogling at him, you cough out a soft
“Oh? Erm thank you”
Returning your attention back flustered slightly at the sight of the silver fox beside you, spending the first moment or two regulating your breathing, you hardly notice the fact that he wasn’t done chatting with you. He lets out a soft cough grabbing your attention as you set your book down to take a sip of your wine.
“Well sweetheart, what do you think of it so far”
A set of firm fingers toy with the edge of the cover, subtly breaching into your personal space, his second whiskey making him a bit more bold. You look up at him wide eyed and cautious,
“Oh - sorry - I love it, only a few pages in but still” taking a beat you add on hastily “I take it you’ve read it”
Shifting in your chair slightly, you turn and face Jack committing to the conversation, you two exchange names, chatting about books and Pittsburgh, as you sip your wine and his whiskey, eyes darkening with a thin layer of desire emerging from the otherwise innocent conversation. Internally you fight with the angel and devil on your shoulders, should you throw caution to the wind and flirt with a random stranger or should you try and be a tiny bit responsible and at leave now. When Jack asks you what a pretty girl like yourself is doing sitting in a bar on her own you you decide to be a little bit truthful, smiling sweetly replying in you attempt being the operative word here at flirting
“Oh you know, at a bit of loose end, being a night owl and new to a city it seemed like a better option than a club, what else is a girl to do”
“Ah a night owl? Seems like we’re birds of a feather here sweetheart.”
Jack takes the opening, reading your slightly flirty tone and expertly complements your hair, your smile and your eyes, causing you to blush head lowered in a bashful stance as you look back up at him and reach out in a moment of boldness and touch his thigh,
“You don’t look half bad yourself”
You cringe at your words, but they seemed to work a treat, with Jack gulping down the rest of his whiskey and murmuring
“Well, sweetheart, I don’t normally do this, but I was gonna have one more whiskey back at home, if you’d want to join”
You blush at the offer, knowing exactly what he means, and deciding that, yeah you're a big girl now, you should have your fun, and agree to go back with him. The heat of the summer night surrounds the pair of you as you get ready to head out; Jack grabs your bag and places it softly on your shoulder offering you a hand as you walk out if the bar. Leaning into the night, you wrap your arms around his neck and leaning in for a deep kiss while you wait for your uber to arrive, desperate to break through the awkwardness of an uncrossed physical barrier.
Once you make it to Jack’s you barely make it through the door before he is pushing you up against it, Jack crowds your space, lips landing messily, engulfing your brain. You barely get a second to become aware of your surroundings; the soft hum of the washer going in the background, the stale smell of takeout lingering in the air, shoes kicked at the foot of the couch, a coffee table covered in papers, and for some reason what looks like to you a tactile vest like the police wear, the sight of it in the dark reminding you that you don’t even know what this guy does for a living. In the moment of clarity, you push Jack away from you slightly, his face forming a look of confusion and slight panic that he had pushed it too far, watching you fumble at your bag and pulling out your phone. Mumbling a quick explanation about your friend having your location and if he didn’t want the police at his door you’d better text her a quick update. Laughing softly at you, impressed by your attempt at a safety plan, Jack pulled away fully giving you enough space to reply, but not once did he take his eyes off of you, phone pocketed once again, your eyes dance along his silhouette, taking in the buffness of his frame, your hands absentmindedly tracing up his arms pulling him back into your space, taking charge, you press yourself into him, mouths seeking messy kisses and start pushing him further into the space. With a skill of a man who seems like he’s done this a million times over, Jack slides his hands down your back as he deepens the kisses with an open mouthed groan, and uses the leverage of his hands groping your ass in the back pocket of your jeans to turn you around as you get closer to the couch, letting your knees buckle as they hit the armrest of the couch, giving Jack the prime opportunity to crowd your body fully once again. You lie flushed to Jack as his hands roam under your jumper, tugging at the hem to pull it off, with a swift removal of your jumper and a sloppy row of kisses placed on your jaw, Jack returns his attention to your mouth, tongue seeking yours as his hands grope and pull at your tank top, searching for your nipples to sit pinched between his fingers. Pulling away for air again, your hands reach down to the buttons of his jeans, one sliding down slyly, as you return the intensity of his gaze, hand reaching down over the growing tent appearing and you let out a soft moan at the sensation of his hard length twitching at your touch. You grind the palm of your hand against his crotch slightly, eliciting a deep moan from Jack which causes your core to heat even faster, with your panties feeling like they are getting wetter by the second. Looking over Jack’s shoulder as you undo the button and zip slowly, you ask about the vest laying on the table behind him, barely able to steady your voice as you get your first real tactile feel of his hard cock.
“Is that a bullet proof vest, you're not a cop are you?”
Jack, taken aback by the question, barely able to focus on anything else but the feeling of your soft hands dancing across his boxers lets out a deep groan and a slightly broken answer.
“Fuck - ugh - ts’ a hobby ok m’ not - god - a cop”
It’s been too long since someone has touched Jack like you are right now, his brain is short circuiting like a teenage boy, willing himself to not blow his load right now as you pull him out of his boxers, he does not want to solidify the sad old widower image tonight. You take Jack’s cock fully in your hand, giving him a soft stroke and use your other to help maneuver his hips quickly to the side so you can get out from under him and change the position to sitting in between his knees on the ground. With you both settled down you reach back to his hips and place your hands on either side, taking the tip of his cock into your mouth. Focusing on the tip for a few seconds, you swirl your tongue around the tip, paying close attention to the underside of it and shaft lapping at it quicker in response to the soft moans and slight bucking of hips coming from Jack. Closing your eyes, you prep yourself quickly with a deep breath and take the thick shaft fully into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you bobble up and down his length. As a firm hand reaches for the top of your head your eyes flutter open as you attempt to take the full length of his cock into your mouth, staring up at his desire making your eyes feel heavy. The cotton polo he’s wearing is pushed up slightly on his stomach, revealing a sexy silver happy trail on his firm stomach, as your eyes trace the hair up his stomach along with a hand dancing up his side, you hum happily in response to the deep moans croaking out of his throat, sweet ‘fuck mes’ and ‘oh god babys’ spill from Jack’s mouth as on hand fists in your hair applying a light pressure onto your head and the other reaching up to his now damn silver curls, pushing them out of hsi face. You choke slightly on the thickness of his cock as his hips thrust slightly into your mouth, his large hand running down to the side of your face, guiding your mouth off his cock as he pants a desperate
“Fuck sweetheart, gonna make me cum, s’ good to me”
As you let his cock out of your mouth, you lean back on your heels, hands leaving his body and wiping the string of spit coating your mouth and chin away. Suddenly, feeling the exposure of your tits hanging out of your tank top you go to cross your arms across your chest. Jack coo’s at the sight of your sudden modesty
“Oh sweet girl, don’t get shy on me now, look so good with your tits out and my cock down your throat.”
Normally, the filth running out of Jack’s mouth would make you cringe and hide your face, but hearing it from him makes the heat in your stomach pool, letting out a moan, your hips buck slightly against your own thigh as you lean your head back towards Jack’s crotch. A hand reached for under your chin and with a tsk and a stroke of your cheek he gestures for you to stand up. Standing together, he takes your hips in his hands and walks you backwards towards the bedroom planting wet open mouth nips along your exposed neck and collar bone. Before he pushes you down onto the bed, he pulls the tank top off and your bra fully, taking your nipples fully into his mouth, swirling his wet tongue and nipping greedily at each before focusing on taking off your pants; using his teeth to pull at the front of your panties, mouthing at your clothed core. As his mouth reaches your clothed pussy he hisses out
“So worked up that I can taste it through your panties sweetheart, so good”
Committing to pulling your panties off, you sigh at the sensation of the cold air hitting your soaking pussy, you don’t really have time to fully adjust anyways, as Jack’s mouth begins to work on you, hot tongue licking flat firm stripes from the bottom of your pussy up to your clit, sucking softly until you moan. He makes light work of bringing you to the edge quickly, lapping firm circles around your clit while intermittently licking down into your cunt, sucking at all the right areas that have your chest heaving.
“Oh fuck baby, s’ good, ,oh fuck”
You can barely get a full sentence out as he slips a finger into your pussy, hooking it up and pressing into the soft velvety walls that make you go crazy. Humming in response to the sound of your moans getting louder and your legs hooking around his back, Jack latches his mouth onto your clit, alternating with great precision he sucks and swirls his tongue around your clit causing you to keen out, with knot in your stomach dangerously close to snapping
Before you can finish your sentence your hips are closing in around Jack’s face grinding tightly as you ride the wave of your orgasm out, his hands gripping at your thighs in an attempt to keep you still as he tries to lap at you throughout your orgasm. As you come down from your orgasm, Jack slides from between your thighs, praise spilling from his lips, complementing your sounds and body as he slides his pants and boxers off fully. Grabbing your hips, he pulls you up the bed resting his knees between yours mouthing at your stomach as he reaches into the bedside drawer and pulls out a condom. Whispering in your ear, he guides you to lie on your stomach, tucking a hand under your waist he raises your hips and ass up until you get the idea of the position he wants you in. As you settle into your chest flat on the cool sheets ass in the air, Jack leans down groping at the plushness of your ass and coos into your ear as he slides his cock into you
“Oh god yeah, such a good girl - fuck”
Setting a steady rhythm, he pushes into you deep, his cock filling you to the hilt. Jack knows that he should be a bit more of a gentleman and at least fuck you with you on your back, but he just can’t resist the idea of looking at your hair, even through its slightly subconscious he knows his brain wants to remind him of his wife. In an effort to push the guilt to the back of his brain, he fully focuses on you, a hand gripping at your hips as he fucks into you with a rough rythm, cooing your name and grabbing your hair in a soft bunch at the nape of your neck he moans out
“Such a sweet girl for me, you feel - fuck - so fuckin’ good”
As Jack drives into you, the pleasure makes your back arch slightly, the feeling of his cock inside you makes your walls flutter and squeeze around him. The feeling of him pulling lightly at your hair makes you keen his name sweetly back at him breathless, with your hips pushing back to meet his thrusts. As Jack pushes into you, sounds of your wetness and his cock echoing obscenely around the room, he knows he won’t last much longer, his thrusts losing a touch of control. As Jack nears closer to finishing, he lets go of your hair and crowds around you once more, hand snaking around to your front and finding your clit. Moans spill from your mouth, hips bucking into his touch trying to get a bit more pressure to speed your release. Jack takes the sounds as encouragement, fucking into you deeply, rough thrusts and load groans letting you know just how close he is. With a loud ‘fuck’ and teeth bitting at your shoulder Jack collapses on top of you, hips jutting into yours as he cums, his body weight resting onto you as he chases his high. Not forgetting the woman beneath him, he pushes your hair to the side and nips at your neck until your a panting mess from the overstimulation of your clit. For a few moments you lie there both in silence, apart from your erratic breaths, and take in the post sex feeling; Jack is the first to move, pointing to you the way to the bathroom, and he heads out the door without a word. It is only then you notice the prosthetic, too caught up in the moment to fully take stock of the man you slept with, after you come back to the bathroom, Jack is sat at the end of the bed, removing the prosthetic, he gestures, without really looking at you, to a glass of water and an old tshirt sitting on the bed.
“Theres a shirt if you want, not gonna kick you out, you can stay if you want”
You hum a polite thanks in response and slip your panties and the old shirt on, too exhausted to think about getting a uber home now, you take him up on the offer, sliding under the sheets keeping a marked distance away from him as you drift asleep.
In the soft early morning light that seeps slightly through the curtains, you wake up and take stock of your surroundings; clothes scattered around the room, squinting your eyes trying to find your bra in the darkened room you sigh quietly, slightly embarrassed by the fact that you’ve slept in so late. Luckily, Jack, is still asleep on his front with his back to you, his freckled back rising and falling in time with the soft snores coming from him, you pull your arm out from underneath his back, cringing slightly at the closeness you just had with your one night stand. You slip out from his bed and gather your clothes in silence and exit the room, Dressing in the hallway, you look around at the photos that are scattered along the walls, as you pull your jumper over your head you notice the wedding photos and photos of a small child that line the way. Bile rises in your stomach, realising not only have you slept with a man that is more than likely nearly fifteen years older than you, judging by the photos of him at his wedding, but also a fucking married man. You gather the rest of your things and rush out the house without another thought. Your heart is racing, you should have known that pulling a one night stand in your first fucking week in the new city would have been a bad idea, the shame rising though your body like a fever. You thank god that Pittsburgh is a big place and that you probably won’t have to see him again, but for the rest of the morning your mind is brought back to the idea of his poor wife, maybe you should have left her a sign of something, but it was too late and you were definitely going to avoid that bar and man like the plague. As the evening rolls round, you get yourself ready for your first shift, water bottle filled, hair plaited neatly away from your face and it’s game on as you pull into the staff parking lot. The fluorescent lighting in PTMC is doing nothing to aid the lingering hangover you had as you walked into the ER. Eager to make a good impression on your new line bosses, you’d downed as much coffee, electrolytes and greasy diner food as you could until you felt that you could hide your shame around the night before and fake professionalism until you made it. You make your way to the ER and are greeted by the night shift charge nurse Lena, introducing herself as your main point of contact as you work the night shift and she shows you around the ER after you get settled in and changed out of your civies. You exchange pleasantries and an odd war story from your last job at a hospital in your home town as you make the rounds with Lena. Turning the corner to head back central, Lena points to the man in front of you with his back to you. A pit of dread starts to form in your stomach before your brain has a chance to fully catch up with the dots that are connecting in your body. Lena calls out to the man in front of her.
“Ah, Dr.Abbot! Just the man I’ve been looking for, meet our new RN, joining the dark side from New York”
As he turns to smile at you and Lena, Jack’s stomach turns, acidic bile rising in his chest as his mind catches up to the sight of you walking in tow with Lena toward him. God must be playing some sick trick on him right now, as if he’s trying to teach him a lesson about fucking your way through grief, why else would the woman he had face down in bed last night be the new night shift RN. As you get closer, still deep in conversation, Jacks eyes scan your badge for confirmation, reading your name and th bile rises quicker, because yes, the woman who he purposefully fucked on her stomach because her hair reminded him of his dead wife’s is indeed his new co-worker. As if it was something out of a movie, it feels like time has slowed down to just the two of you in the room as you come to the same realisation practically at the same time, watching him glimpse at your badge, you clock why the man in front of you looks so familiar. Because its the man you let fuck you into blissed out oblivion last night; the man Lena is now gesturing to you as the night shift attending, aka, your fucking superior. Suddenly, no amount of coffee and greasy food can combat the sick feeling rising in your stomach, as your mind conjures up wild stories of how you slept with your married attending and how every single person here will find out you're a homewrecker. You try to hide the surprise on your face, which is mirrored on his as Lena introduces you both. Your face feels bright red heat flooding at the embarrassment of it all, but miraculously Lena doesn’t notice, she simply continues on introducing you both as you pay no heed to anything except the way his posture visibly tightens as he takes you in. Your mind, now spinning with ways to try and fix the fact that you slept with your boss, tries to refocus on what Lena is saying to you. Saved by the bell, or rather the pager, Jack pulls the phone from his pocket and with a curt nod turns and briskly walks away from you. When you turn to look at Lena, you try to joke, in an attempt to cover the clear tension that was still handing in the air
“God, is he always like that, huh, who pissed in his cherrios?”
Lena smiles at you sweetly, hand patting you maternally on your back as you continue your tour around the ER. With a considerate whisper Lena leans forward, gesturing for you to come closer.
“Well hon, I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but it’s better to be armed and aware, he’s not usually like this, we’ve just caught him on a bad day, his late wife’s anniversary was yesterday so we’ll give him a pass”
And with that it’s as if all blood drains from your body, the beeping of the machines and the sound of your pulse rushing through your body drowns out the further explanations coming from Lena. Not only have you essentially fucked your boss, you were his rebound for his dead wife, right now you can’t fully decide if this is worse or better than being a homewrecker. Panic swirls through your brain as you excuse yourself and ask where the bathroom is, locking yourself into the stall, you pull out your phone and place your head between your thighs trying to regain some composure, shooting off an update of the clusterfuck that is your life to your friend back home, you head back out and splash some water on your face and whisper to yourself that it’s ‘game on’. Leaving the bathroom with a new facade of calmness, you swing around the corner, naturally bashing right into the back of Jack, beet red again he stares down at you with his chin ticked up.
“Huh, we should start callin’ you cherry with how easily you blush”
You try to stammer out a sentence, looking to try to address him properly, but you are too taken aback by his cockiness in the workplace; treating you with the same level of smugness that he did when he was buried deep inside of you. You gulp and stare back, unable to form a coherent thought, Jack tsks at you, pointing toward a patient's bed, asking you if you wouldn’t be a doll and help him with a case. Your pulse, still racing in your ears, you remind yourself that it is a simple professional request and nod tightly and head off with Dr. Abbot, trying to push aside the fact that you now have a better understanding of what last night might have been for him and head in through the curtains, starting your shift. Mentally, you’re brain is still focused on sorting out the cluster fuck that is your life as you take the patients blood pressure, this whole situation really was going to be a whole lot harder to deal with than you thought.
I remember when you were considered a somewhat popular writer during the early days of hotd. I wasn’t a fan of you. I never really thought you were that good at writing, at least compared to the bigger Aemond blogs that definitely deserved their followings and flowers. Your writing seemed mediocre at best, but you were younger than most and I figured that was the main reason why.
I lost whatever little interest I had in your writing after you butchered Alicent’s character in your handmaid series. I disagreed with the way you handled it. You had taken such a complex and imperfect female character and reduced her to trash for the sake of porn and plot.
Fast forward to 2026. It feels good to know that you genuinely fell off on this site. You don’t have any mutuals that interact with you, the fandom genuinely forgot about your existence, you post and then delete because literally no one spares you any attention, and your recent fanfiction are not popular at all. You posted TWO master lists today and got a total of two likes.
You try so hard and no one wants anything to do with you anymore. Take the hint. No redesigning, rebranding, promises to write for other characters, or attempts to kiss ass will help you at this point.
That’s just my two cents. Do what you want, just know where you stand in the eyes of others.
This was mean spirited.
I genuinely do not know what else to say other than this was mean-spirited and that my love for writing stemmed from the fact that I loved and adored seeing others enjoy my work. Now I’m left to rethink everything so . . . congrats?
ook like I'm having so many thoughts about hughtrain especially after this season that is not even funny anymore because YES I understand that the A-train arc was closed and reggie as a character had nowhere else to grow, and having him alive on s5 might have created an unnecesary-came-out-of-nowhere problematic between them just like annie and hughie on s4
but man. reggie really wanted that nerd so bad you ain't telling me he didn't
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i can feel myself trying to Not so ~public commitment to writing 100 words every day this week! yes that is nothing! yes that is more than the last -- i'm not even going to check how long! many days!
its never not funny to me the way their coworkers all round them will be kissing each other on the cheek and hugging and even smacking each other on the ass. and poulin and stacey will be stood there having left room for jesus and all the saints and every single page of hr documentation theyve ever filed
