A procrastinatory drabble

[mab_browne]

So, no more on All's Fair. But I got a lot of laundry folded. And I wrote a drabble. *winsome expression*

J/B, pre-slash

Plans

I comb my hair *again* - no snarls allowed in the (hopefully) touchable hair. I wrestle my zip upwards. Maybe my black cords are getting shabby but they're tight and they're soft to touch. White, loose shirt, which Denise said made me look like a Byronic poet (who talks too much, even to himself in his head. No thinking about former lovers. No jinxing.)

Jim's back, so I go out, say 'hi'.

"Plans, Chief?"

"In these ratty cords?" I swallow. "Nah, tonight I figured on staying in."

Do Jim's nostrils flare the tiniest bit? "Okay."

I think I've been made...

Great.