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Part Two: Ann (1/2)
This is such a bad idea.
Never mind that Ann doesn’t want to hear most of these stories. God, Ron’s alone was scarring. She can only imagine the horror-real or contrived-that April and Tom plan to inflict on the group. What really concerns her is Leslie and Ben.
Specifically, the fact that Ben is sitting next to Leslie and shooting her not-at-all subtle moony glances whenever he thinks no one is looking. Looks Leslie catches every so often and returns just as intently until one of Ron’s more particularly disturbing comments washes over them like a bucket of cold water. Everyone else in the room has probably noticed their ridiculous flirting-you’d have to be blind or Chris Traeger not to-but she’s not sure any of them realize just how badly Leslie wants make out with Ben.
(And by make out, she means definitely more than make out. Leslie overuses that as a euphemism more often than Ann cares to count. She’s heard quite a few intimate descriptions of just what Leslie wants to do to Ben, and most of it involves them being naked together. No one else, she’s sure, has been privy to that kind of detail.)
It’s not as if Ann has been exactly discouraging of this, though. If anything, she’s been pushing Leslie to pick up the already agonizingly slow pace. And she certainly can’t argue that an afternoon spent discussing sex in Ben’s general vicinity might not stir things up.
But that’s the problem.
Because they certainly can’t do anything at work. In which case, Leslie’s frustration is going to be palpable, which means a long night of ranting and cursing the rules and yet another pro-con list that will turn out the same as the last twenty have. As much as she loves Leslie, if Ann’s honest, she’s more than a little tired of listening to her obsess about a situation she could fix with one good kiss.
And if they do finally act on their feelings here…
Well.
They’re going to have a much bigger problem on their hands.
Ann just wishes they were anywhere else. Somewhere far away from City Hall. Preferably a place with a lot more alcohol and a few dark corners to sneak off to. Someplace where Leslie can finally act on her feelings and get what she so obviously wants.
Instead they’re going to continue to talk about sex under the harsh florescent lighting of the Parks Department conference room.
“Ugh. Hurry up,” whines April. “This story is already awful.”
“I haven’t started yet.”
“Exactly. It’s only going to get worse.”
“It was actually really sweet,” Ann corrects-or maybe confirms, if April’s groan is anything by which to judge. “It was the night before my sixteenth birthday, and my boyfriend and I were hanging out in the park. We had a few too many wine coolers and one thing led to another…” She smiles at the memory, glancing around the table in search of recognition and appreciation, but it turns April isn’t the only one who looks bored. In fact, only Donna and Leslie aren’t affecting boredom, and they both look mildly horrified.
“You were drinking underage? In the park? In the park, Ann? Really?”
“Yeah, well-“
“No one cares,” interrupts Donna, which is probably true. “Get to the good part. Exact location. Position. His member. Length, girth-You know.”
“Oh,” says Ann. If anything those details are a little fuzzy. Between the alcohol and poor lighting…And she and Scott hadn’t lasted long after that night. “Um. We actually went back to his car. Or, well, his mom’s car. Her station wagon.” She looks around the table again. April now has her hands over her ears. She shrugs. “It was surprisingly roomy.”
“A station wagon, Ann? Really?” Tom shakes his head. “I expected better.”
“It was nice.” She stares at the others imploringly. Is anyone here really going to attest to mind-blowing sex their first time? Nice and sweet are qualifying words she’s always been more than happy to use. There had been a lot of making out and some semi-awkward foreplay and the actual sex had only lasted about a minute, but Scott had held her after and couldn’t stop kissing her, and she’d just been happy.
For god’s sake-Ron practically admitted to being molested and her story is worse somehow?
“This is embarrassing for you,” Tom condescends. He’s about one patronizing comment away from getting punched in the nose.
“Better than my first time,” mutters Ben, but no one else is listening. Ann shoots him a grateful look, though, and he grants her a small smile.
“Whatever,” says Donna dismissively. “You’ve hooked up with some damn fine men since then. Who cares if your first time wasn’t one for the books?”
“Thanks?”
“My story, on the other hand, is straight out of the pages of a romance novel. And I mean that literally.”
Leslie sits up straighter, eyes already a little darkened at the thought, and shoots Ben a quick smile. Ann suppresses a groan.
So much for that Lifetime movie marathon she was planning tonight.
Part Two: Ann (1/2)
This is such a bad idea.
Never mind that Ann doesn’t want to hear most of these stories. God, Ron’s alone was scarring. She can only imagine the horror-real or contrived-that April and Tom plan to inflict on the group. What really concerns her is Leslie and Ben.
Specifically, the fact that Ben is sitting next to Leslie and shooting her not-at-all subtle moony glances whenever he thinks no one is looking. Looks Leslie catches every so often and returns just as intently until one of Ron’s more particularly disturbing comments washes over them like a bucket of cold water. Everyone else in the room has probably noticed their ridiculous flirting-you’d have to be blind or Chris Traeger not to-but she’s not sure any of them realize just how badly Leslie wants make out with Ben.
(And by make out, she means definitely more than make out. Leslie overuses that as a euphemism more often than Ann cares to count. She’s heard quite a few intimate descriptions of just what Leslie wants to do to Ben, and most of it involves them being naked together. No one else, she’s sure, has been privy to that kind of detail.)
It’s not as if Ann has been exactly discouraging of this, though. If anything, she’s been pushing Leslie to pick up the already agonizingly slow pace. And she certainly can’t argue that an afternoon spent discussing sex in Ben’s general vicinity might not stir things up.
But that’s the problem.
Because they certainly can’t do anything at work. In which case, Leslie’s frustration is going to be palpable, which means a long night of ranting and cursing the rules and yet another pro-con list that will turn out the same as the last twenty have. As much as she loves Leslie, if Ann’s honest, she’s more than a little tired of listening to her obsess about a situation she could fix with one good kiss.
And if they do finally act on their feelings here…
Well.
They’re going to have a much bigger problem on their hands.
Ann just wishes they were anywhere else. Somewhere far away from City Hall. Preferably a place with a lot more alcohol and a few dark corners to sneak off to. Someplace where Leslie can finally act on her feelings and get what she so obviously wants.
Instead they’re going to continue to talk about sex under the harsh florescent lighting of the Parks Department conference room.
She sighs.
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“Ugh. Hurry up,” whines April. “This story is already awful.”
“I haven’t started yet.”
“Exactly. It’s only going to get worse.”
“It was actually really sweet,” Ann corrects-or maybe confirms, if April’s groan is anything by which to judge. “It was the night before my sixteenth birthday, and my boyfriend and I were hanging out in the park. We had a few too many wine coolers and one thing led to another…” She smiles at the memory, glancing around the table in search of recognition and appreciation, but it turns April isn’t the only one who looks bored. In fact, only Donna and Leslie aren’t affecting boredom, and they both look mildly horrified.
“You were drinking underage? In the park? In the park, Ann? Really?”
“Yeah, well-“
“No one cares,” interrupts Donna, which is probably true. “Get to the good part. Exact location. Position. His member. Length, girth-You know.”
“Oh,” says Ann. If anything those details are a little fuzzy. Between the alcohol and poor lighting…And she and Scott hadn’t lasted long after that night. “Um. We actually went back to his car. Or, well, his mom’s car. Her station wagon.” She looks around the table again. April now has her hands over her ears. She shrugs. “It was surprisingly roomy.”
“A station wagon, Ann? Really?” Tom shakes his head. “I expected better.”
“It was nice.” She stares at the others imploringly. Is anyone here really going to attest to mind-blowing sex their first time? Nice and sweet are qualifying words she’s always been more than happy to use. There had been a lot of making out and some semi-awkward foreplay and the actual sex had only lasted about a minute, but Scott had held her after and couldn’t stop kissing her, and she’d just been happy.
For god’s sake-Ron practically admitted to being molested and her story is worse somehow?
“This is embarrassing for you,” Tom condescends. He’s about one patronizing comment away from getting punched in the nose.
“Better than my first time,” mutters Ben, but no one else is listening. Ann shoots him a grateful look, though, and he grants her a small smile.
“Whatever,” says Donna dismissively. “You’ve hooked up with some damn fine men since then. Who cares if your first time wasn’t one for the books?”
“Thanks?”
“My story, on the other hand, is straight out of the pages of a romance novel. And I mean that literally.”
Leslie sits up straighter, eyes already a little darkened at the thought, and shoots Ben a quick smile. Ann suppresses a groan.
So much for that Lifetime movie marathon she was planning tonight.
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And also thank you. :)
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Every character is written spot on. I'm lovin' it. McDonald's status.
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