The West Wing - Bet
Title: Bet
Author: clair_de_lune
Rating: G
Genre: Gen
Word Count: 240
Prompt by niennanou: CJ, Danny, knitting
Standing in the doorway of her office, he observes the scene with no small amount bemusement.
“What are you doing?”
His eyes skim over the room. CJ is sitting on the small couch behind the door. There are wool balls scattered all around her. On the cushions. At her feet. The threads tangled.
“I’m knitting, Danny.”
“CJ,” he asks again, “what are you doing?”
“I’m knitting,” she says through her gritted teeth. “It helps me relax.”
“Yeah, I can tell.” He doesn’t wait for her to invite him in the room, he just steps in and closes the door behind him. He doesn’t think that letting her office door open now would do much for her dignity, and her dignity is something she needs to be taken seriously by the White House Press Corps.
As for him, it’s not the same. He always takes her seriously. Even when she’s holding needles as she would hold chop sticks.
“CJ...”
“I’ve lost a bet,” she grumbles. “I’ve lost a bet, okay?”
“To whom?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve lost and now I have to knit a scarf.”
“Do you even know how to knit the garter stitch?” She looks up at him, her eyes suddenly full of hope. Oh yes, he thinks. If saving the damsel in distress means teaching her how to knit the garter stitch, then let it be. He sits next to her and... “CJ... aren’t those Notre-Dame’s colors?”
oOo
Author: clair_de_lune
Rating: G
Genre: Gen
Word Count: 240
Prompt by niennanou: CJ, Danny, knitting
Standing in the doorway of her office, he observes the scene with no small amount bemusement.
“What are you doing?”
His eyes skim over the room. CJ is sitting on the small couch behind the door. There are wool balls scattered all around her. On the cushions. At her feet. The threads tangled.
“I’m knitting, Danny.”
“CJ,” he asks again, “what are you doing?”
“I’m knitting,” she says through her gritted teeth. “It helps me relax.”
“Yeah, I can tell.” He doesn’t wait for her to invite him in the room, he just steps in and closes the door behind him. He doesn’t think that letting her office door open now would do much for her dignity, and her dignity is something she needs to be taken seriously by the White House Press Corps.
As for him, it’s not the same. He always takes her seriously. Even when she’s holding needles as she would hold chop sticks.
“CJ...”
“I’ve lost a bet,” she grumbles. “I’ve lost a bet, okay?”
“To whom?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve lost and now I have to knit a scarf.”
“Do you even know how to knit the garter stitch?” She looks up at him, her eyes suddenly full of hope. Oh yes, he thinks. If saving the damsel in distress means teaching her how to knit the garter stitch, then let it be. He sits next to her and... “CJ... aren’t those Notre-Dame’s colors?”
oOo