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Still more with cleaning

Angel was up early.

That was so wrong on so many levels.

But he'd promised Krycek to help finish cleaning the Assistants Lounge, and sadly doing that was more fun than contemplating dealing with Parker's forced death march to Student Council.

Angel stood in the doorway to the lounge and pondered what he wanted to attack first.

Sean nosed around. It was possible that he sniffed around the door of one cabinet in particular more often than he did the others, but Sean was a puppy and puppies did weird things sometimes.

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Janet yawns and waves to Angela, then looks for someplace remotely clean to set her coffee cup down.

There doesn't seem to be a place.

"Oh, shelving?" asked Janet. "That should be fun to put together."

"There's stuff to be put together?" Sam brightened. "I'd much rather assemble than clean. You wouldn't believe what I stuck my hand in last time I was in here."

"Hi, Sam. Yeah, Parker found these shelves while we were shoppiing yesterday. She thought they'd be a good place for us to put ~~booze~~ all our supplies."

"Cool, ~~alcohol~~ supply storage. Very important." She looked around at the state of the room and wrinkled her nose. "Are we ready for this, though?"

"You'd have to put it together outside and then move it in here," said Janet. "This place is in no way close to sanitary." She frowned at the grime, and started rummaging around for bleach and a sponge. "Thank God I don't dress up constantly."

She could really, really use a set of scrubs for this place, though.

"Ooh! I'd have to work out in the hall? Away from the dust farm?" Sam pulled a swiss army knife out of her pocket.

"I'll just be out here, then," she said, dragging the shelving unit into the hall and sitting down on the floor. She pulled a blade out of the knife and began cutting through the packaging. "Let me know when it's safe to come back in."

"Coward," says Janet, sticking her tongue out at Sam.

"Prudent," Sam said, sticking her tongue out at Janet in retaliation.

"You've survived worse than this." Janet threw a (clean, dry, omg) sponge out the door at Sam.

Sam giggled, leaned over to get the sponge, then threw it back. "I have? It's pretty gross in there, Janet."

"Nothing a good dousing with bleach won't cure," said Janet, catching the sponge. "Though I think that some medical-grade disinfectants might not go amiss either."

"Please tell me you don't have them with you, Janet." She hadn't missed the biohazard stickers on the cabinet.

"Not in my backpack, no," said Janet, glancing back at the file cabinet and blushing. She might have some stashed in her room, though.

"Well, that's something, I guess."

"Sam, you're making fun of me," said Janet. She grinned.

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Angela nods. "I think we should just leave it in the box until we've done a little more scrubbing." She looks down at herself. "I don't care about these clothes, so I'm good."

"Want some surgical gloves?" asked Janet. "I refuse to touch anything in this room with my bare skin. It's disgusting."

"Please," Angela says with a shudder. "Glove me. This place looks like a bacteria breeding experiment gone completely wrong, or something."

"You should have seen the gooey blue stuff," Sam called from the hallway. "I'm lucky it didn't eat through my pants. Or get up and start issuing orders."

"Gyah," Angela says.

She dares to open the mini-fridge in one corner of the room, touching the handle with one gloved finger. Mistake -- a foul stench wafts out, and Angela glimpses whhat looks like purple fur before slamming it shut. "I think something died in the fridge," she calls.

"Animal, vegetable, mineral, or gremlin? Don't throw it out until Janet sees it--she'll probably want a sample."

"Purple," Angela answers, then grimaces. "I guess I need to take another look."

Armed with Lysol, she opens the fridge again, spraying the mass until her eyes are starting to burn from the chemicals and she's satisfied that anything moving in there now very very dead. Cautiously, she prods it with the same gloved finger. "I think vegetable? It doesn't seem very, um, lively, anyhow. Lookl like it might be somebody's leftovers."

"Purple?" Her curiosity got the better of her and Sam abandoned the shelving unit momentarily to see what Angela was talking about. "Yuck."

It looked worse than Jack's fridge after they'd been off world for months, and that was really saying something. "It's not moving or sentient, right? That's a good thing."

"If it was moving, it's not anymore," Angela answers. "I just hope it's not sentient."

She has wiped off the purple. A few layers in, she reveals the shelf of the fridge. "Do you think this is even worth saving, or is it another thing to replace?"

Sam resisted the urge to poke the purple stuff. For one thing, she wasn't wearing gloves. For another, she really had no idea what she'd be poking it for.

She squatted down and looked in at the shelf. "It may be salvageable, if that gunk comes off of it. Just needs to be scraped, I think."