TWW FIC: McPherson Cupcakes
Title: McPherson Cupcakes
Author: shutterbug_12
Characters: Ainsley & Sam
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Only borrowing. Make love, not lawsuits.
Summary: Sam is alarmed when Ainsley turns down an offer of food.
Author's Note: This is all magisterequitum's fault. Inspired by a very real D.C. food truck. Feedback and concrit is love.
From his seat in the cab, Sam spotted her on 15th Street just before one o'clock, at the edge of McPherson Square, tense and still. Ducks circled around her feet, but she ignored them, her eyes wide, scanning traffic. She looked like an alert cheetah on the Sahara, ready to explode into motion.
For a calm, relaxed afternoon, it seemed odd.
With a polite order to pull over, please and thank you included, he rolled down the window. Once the car rolled to a stop, he leaned out into the humid air. "Ainsley!" he shouted.
Her head jerked in his direction, but even as she waved at him she seemed distracted. Her eyes never settled on him for more than a second or two, and she wasn't one to have difficulty with eye contact.
"If you need a ride back to the office, you're more than welcome to hop in," Sam said.
"I don't need a ride, no," she said. Then, as if it were an afterthought, she added, "Thank you."
"I don't want you to get caught in the rain." A weak excuse, and he knew it. He could practically hear the blue sky snickering at him.
"It's not supposed to rain until--" She cut herself off with a sudden, fast movement--a step away from her corner--but she returned to her spot a moment later, same rigid posture as before. "It's not supposed to rain until later today."
He pressed his lips together, dismayed, and breathed a short exhale through his nose. Time for the big guns, the big kahuna weapon aimed right at her Achilles' heel. "I've got some croissant sandwiches back at the office. Come on, we could share the cab."
Her attention shifted back to the steady parade of cars. "Thanks, Sam. But I'm okay."
Bizarre. He squinted at her, his brow furrowing. He opened his mouth for a second attempt to coax her into the cab, but she darted away from her corner in a full high-heeled sprint before he could speak.
"I have to go, Sam!" she said over her shoulder, rushing toward a--
Sam tilted his head as a smile spread across his face. A food truck. She was headed straight for a petite pink food truck that had just set up shop on the corner of the square. A pink food truck with a cupcake painted on its side.
Ducking back into the car, he turned to the driver and said, "Excuse me. Can you just drop me off over there by the pink food truck?" He didn't want to miss this.
Author: shutterbug_12
Characters: Ainsley & Sam
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Only borrowing. Make love, not lawsuits.
Summary: Sam is alarmed when Ainsley turns down an offer of food.
Author's Note: This is all magisterequitum's fault. Inspired by a very real D.C. food truck. Feedback and concrit is love.
From his seat in the cab, Sam spotted her on 15th Street just before one o'clock, at the edge of McPherson Square, tense and still. Ducks circled around her feet, but she ignored them, her eyes wide, scanning traffic. She looked like an alert cheetah on the Sahara, ready to explode into motion.
For a calm, relaxed afternoon, it seemed odd.
With a polite order to pull over, please and thank you included, he rolled down the window. Once the car rolled to a stop, he leaned out into the humid air. "Ainsley!" he shouted.
Her head jerked in his direction, but even as she waved at him she seemed distracted. Her eyes never settled on him for more than a second or two, and she wasn't one to have difficulty with eye contact.
"If you need a ride back to the office, you're more than welcome to hop in," Sam said.
"I don't need a ride, no," she said. Then, as if it were an afterthought, she added, "Thank you."
"I don't want you to get caught in the rain." A weak excuse, and he knew it. He could practically hear the blue sky snickering at him.
"It's not supposed to rain until--" She cut herself off with a sudden, fast movement--a step away from her corner--but she returned to her spot a moment later, same rigid posture as before. "It's not supposed to rain until later today."
He pressed his lips together, dismayed, and breathed a short exhale through his nose. Time for the big guns, the big kahuna weapon aimed right at her Achilles' heel. "I've got some croissant sandwiches back at the office. Come on, we could share the cab."
Her attention shifted back to the steady parade of cars. "Thanks, Sam. But I'm okay."
Bizarre. He squinted at her, his brow furrowing. He opened his mouth for a second attempt to coax her into the cab, but she darted away from her corner in a full high-heeled sprint before he could speak.
"I have to go, Sam!" she said over her shoulder, rushing toward a--
Sam tilted his head as a smile spread across his face. A food truck. She was headed straight for a petite pink food truck that had just set up shop on the corner of the square. A pink food truck with a cupcake painted on its side.
Ducking back into the car, he turned to the driver and said, "Excuse me. Can you just drop me off over there by the pink food truck?" He didn't want to miss this.