FIc: "Weighty Matters"
Title: Weighty Matters
Characters: Charlie/Amita
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Wordcount: 437
Note: I wrote this fic because the plot bunny just would not leave me alone. I'm afraid the subject might be controversial, but I tried to deal with it sensitively and with affection for the characters.
Amita woke, and turned to face … an empty pillow. She heard a deep, heartfelt sigh from across the room, and turned in the direction of the sound. Charlie stood in front of the closet, his back to her, the top from his awful red and white striped pajamas dangling from his left hand. He reached into the closet and pulled out a pair of jeans. Heaving another deep sigh, he dropped the jeans and rummaged through the clothes on hangers.
Amita climbed from the bed and soundlessly crept to stand behind Charlie. She wrapped her arms around his waist and was startled as he let out a little yelp of surprise and sucked in his stomach. “What’s wrong, Charlie?” she whispered into his ear.
“I’ve pulled the old bait and switch on you.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
He pulled away from her grasp and picked up the jeans he had discarded. He turned around to face her, holding the jeans up to his waist. “Look at this. When we met, these jeans were practically falling off me. Now I can’t even pull them up past my hips. A beautiful woman like you could have any man she wanted. How can you still love me?”
Amita took the jeans from him, dropped them on the floor, and wrapped her arms around him again, pulling him into a tight hug. “Oh, Charlie. I do love you. I always will.”
“But look at me. I’m not the man you fell in love with.”
“That would be true if I fell in love with your body. She ran her fingers down his stubbly cheek, and rubbed his nose with her thumb. “To be honest, you never have looked like the kind of man I’ve always found attractive. Thin or … not so thin, I never really cared about your looks. I fell in love with what’s inside. Your mind, your heart. You’re the only man who really understands me, who loves me for who I am and not for what I look like.” She gently ran her finger under his eye. “Those beautiful brown eyes see beyond the surface.” She ran her fingertips down his cheek and across his lips then stood on tiptoes to kiss him. “I could never get tired of kissing those lips.” She stepped back half a step and placed her hands on his waist and began to slip her fingertips under the waistband of his pajama bottoms. “Now, since you can’t find anything to wear, why don’t you just come back to bed with me and we’ll work off some calories together.”
Characters: Charlie/Amita
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Wordcount: 437
Note: I wrote this fic because the plot bunny just would not leave me alone. I'm afraid the subject might be controversial, but I tried to deal with it sensitively and with affection for the characters.
Amita woke, and turned to face … an empty pillow. She heard a deep, heartfelt sigh from across the room, and turned in the direction of the sound. Charlie stood in front of the closet, his back to her, the top from his awful red and white striped pajamas dangling from his left hand. He reached into the closet and pulled out a pair of jeans. Heaving another deep sigh, he dropped the jeans and rummaged through the clothes on hangers.
Amita climbed from the bed and soundlessly crept to stand behind Charlie. She wrapped her arms around his waist and was startled as he let out a little yelp of surprise and sucked in his stomach. “What’s wrong, Charlie?” she whispered into his ear.
“I’ve pulled the old bait and switch on you.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
He pulled away from her grasp and picked up the jeans he had discarded. He turned around to face her, holding the jeans up to his waist. “Look at this. When we met, these jeans were practically falling off me. Now I can’t even pull them up past my hips. A beautiful woman like you could have any man she wanted. How can you still love me?”
Amita took the jeans from him, dropped them on the floor, and wrapped her arms around him again, pulling him into a tight hug. “Oh, Charlie. I do love you. I always will.”
“But look at me. I’m not the man you fell in love with.”
“That would be true if I fell in love with your body. She ran her fingers down his stubbly cheek, and rubbed his nose with her thumb. “To be honest, you never have looked like the kind of man I’ve always found attractive. Thin or … not so thin, I never really cared about your looks. I fell in love with what’s inside. Your mind, your heart. You’re the only man who really understands me, who loves me for who I am and not for what I look like.” She gently ran her finger under his eye. “Those beautiful brown eyes see beyond the surface.” She ran her fingertips down his cheek and across his lips then stood on tiptoes to kiss him. “I could never get tired of kissing those lips.” She stepped back half a step and placed her hands on his waist and began to slip her fingertips under the waistband of his pajama bottoms. “Now, since you can’t find anything to wear, why don’t you just come back to bed with me and we’ll work off some calories together.”