Dean gets through the 7 a.m. newscast entirely on autopilot. To cover for having shitcanned their fucking meteorologist, they've filled time with a recycled VOSOT about the humane society, with Dean reading the scripted voice-over before the sound on tape played. Instead of a forecast, they had Jo smile sweetly and announce clear weather from now until the end of the month. All to serve the good peope of Kansas their Thursday morning newscast.

Which doesn't sound right, but what the fuck is he going to do, call her out on air and go off-script for a second time this morning? So all he can do is chuckle and tell viewers to still keep an umbrella handy, because you never know. And then that was it, time to come up with pitches before the 9 a.m. all-staff meeting. And not get fired, or any more outed than he already was.

Dean'd been at his desk with his third cup of coffee for all of five minutes when Naomi came to summon him to her office. What's worse, she'd worn kid gloves the entire time.

Naomi's office was sterile, lit up in fluorescent lights with white Scandanavian furnishings. It was the only office in the building that managed to escape the Office Space-eclectic energy of an underfunded corporate-owned TV station. Dean sat his ass on the tiny plastic chair and begged not to break it.

Naomi leaned across her desk and gave her best version of a reassuring smile. It wasn't very convincing.

"Dean," she started. "I want you to know, you did an admirable job on set this morning."

"What?" Dean asked.

Naomi sighed. "To be sexually harassed like that, on live television, is truly awful. You were able to recover and smile through it. Not many would be."

Dean couldn't control what hsi eyebrows were doing. "I wasn't--"

"Dean," Naomi cut in. "I've been a woman in television for more than 30 years. There is no shame in being harassed. You didn't do anything wrong today."

Dean could only nod.

"I'm especially impressed you were able to stay neutral, considering the... nature, of your harasser."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

Naomi twisted her lips. "People like that, who spread their message to people who shouldn't have to hear it, and won't rest until we all agree. To do that to a captive audience of one, in front of a captive audience of thousands? I just can't see how someone could take pride in it."

Dean laughed a little. Anything to get out of this conversation. "This might make good content, at least. Teach our audience how to tell what is and isn't harassment. Because I think I'd know harassment."

Naomi smiled and stood. "That's a good idea. Let's get down to the conference room."

Dean followed her out of the office and into the stifling board room, plopping into a seat next to Jo. She had Tweetdeck open in front of her, with one column on reactions to this morning's news, and one column on the tag #kswx. Every other reporter started trickling in, until they had to bring in the shitty chairs from the hallway.

When a sufficient audience had arrived, Zachariah, director of sales, stood. 

"Good morning, everyone," he began.

The gathered staff replied with some decent energy.

Zachariah gave an exaggeurated sigh. "Is that the best we can do? Let's try again. Good morning, everyone!"

His assembled congregants replied again, if not with more enthusiasm, at least with more volume.

"Good enough," he said, rolling his eyes. "Before we get into the main topic of today's meeting, I just want to remind everyone about this weekend's Cherry Pie Festival! As presenting sponsors, it's very important that we show a supportive presence at the event. Please show up for however long you can. Have some pie! Have a beer! Have a nostalgic good time and play out the town's greatest hits!"

"We're totally not getting paid for that," a low voice said in Dean's ear, making him jump.

It was just Claire. Dean rolled his eyes, making a little "what do you think" face.

Naomi spoke from where she was seated next to Zachariah. "How does the weather look this weekend?"

"The National Weather Service says --" Jo began.

"It will be sunny and perfect," Naomi finished.

Claire dutifully took down that note on her shitty little laptop, before asking, "Do we have a plan if it's not, though?"

Naomi smiled with thin lips. "We do have a plan, but we won't need it, because the weather will be sunny and perfect."

"Mm-hm," Claire replied in high pitch.

And with that, the pitch meeting began in earnest. Dean supplied a package idea about the town's only gluten-free bakery's preparations for the fest and a VOSOT about decorations picked up along the way. He then took the opportunity to completely fucking zone out.

It wasn't until everyone began packing up to get work done for the day when he tuned back in to see Jo showing him her computer screen. On it was a map of southern Nebraska and central Kansas lit up in highlighter yellow.

"Would you look at that," Dean said.

"Hastings just issued a tornado watch," Jo said, looking around the room. They were the last ones left. "Looks like Cas was right."