He can't help it, his eyes flick down again, taking in that glorious rack. What might be the last glorious rack he ever sees, he realises when he glances up again and discovers that her teeth are actually bared.
He stands, abruptly very willing to forfeit this particular battle if it means getting out of her with his life intact, let alone his bollocks.
"Look," he says, and darts rapidly past her desk to the closed door just behind it, bearing the name plate John Smith, CEO, along with the company name. "I'll just drop this on his desk and be on my way then--" He knocks twice, frantically, then turns the handle and pushes in without waiting for an answer.
Instinctively he goes to shove the door closed again behind him but the wood reverberates alarmingly as Ginger slams her hands against it--"Oh no you don't, sunshine,"--and he finds himself leaning all his weight against it desperately, setting the backs of his shoulders flat against the wood--
The office in front of him is empty. He stumbles forward abruptly as the sight distracts him the task at hand, and Ginger bursts into the room behind him. He wheels on her. "He isn't even here," he accuses, paper crumpling in his automatic fist. "You kept me out there, waiting, for... for hours--"
"Only two hours," she says unapologetically, folding her arms under her breasts, and making them--in the name of all bloody things holy, what the hell does she expect? He throws his hands up and closes his eyes, giving up.
"All right," he says. "You win, all right?" He goes to stride past her and back out the door but instead finds his lapels seized, body swung forcibly around.
"Not so fast, sweetheart--" she says, but he's trying to slap her hands away and then it's on, shoving and tussling across the room as he attempts to either escape or gain the upper hand. The former seems a safer bet than the latter; now that she's standing up for the first time he realises just how much bigger she is than him; she's positively statuesque.
They knock against the desk and there's the sudden sound of glass breaking; they both freeze, then look down. What had been a small aquarium-thing adorning the desk is now on the floor, a sad, single bit of coral lying in a puddle of water and broken glass.
no subject
He can't help it, his eyes flick down again, taking in that glorious rack. What might be the last glorious rack he ever sees, he realises when he glances up again and discovers that her teeth are actually bared.
He stands, abruptly very willing to forfeit this particular battle if it means getting out of her with his life intact, let alone his bollocks.
"Look," he says, and darts rapidly past her desk to the closed door just behind it, bearing the name plate John Smith, CEO, along with the company name. "I'll just drop this on his desk and be on my way then--" He knocks twice, frantically, then turns the handle and pushes in without waiting for an answer.
Instinctively he goes to shove the door closed again behind him but the wood reverberates alarmingly as Ginger slams her hands against it--"Oh no you don't, sunshine,"--and he finds himself leaning all his weight against it desperately, setting the backs of his shoulders flat against the wood--
The office in front of him is empty. He stumbles forward abruptly as the sight distracts him the task at hand, and Ginger bursts into the room behind him. He wheels on her. "He isn't even here," he accuses, paper crumpling in his automatic fist. "You kept me out there, waiting, for... for hours--"
"Only two hours," she says unapologetically, folding her arms under her breasts, and making them--in the name of all bloody things holy, what the hell does she expect? He throws his hands up and closes his eyes, giving up.
"All right," he says. "You win, all right?" He goes to stride past her and back out the door but instead finds his lapels seized, body swung forcibly around.
"Not so fast, sweetheart--" she says, but he's trying to slap her hands away and then it's on, shoving and tussling across the room as he attempts to either escape or gain the upper hand. The former seems a safer bet than the latter; now that she's standing up for the first time he realises just how much bigger she is than him; she's positively statuesque.
They knock against the desk and there's the sudden sound of glass breaking; they both freeze, then look down. What had been a small aquarium-thing adorning the desk is now on the floor, a sad, single bit of coral lying in a puddle of water and broken glass.