The embarrassing part is, he's the one who finally stops it. All those good intentions-- only then it's five minutes in and she's got two fingers under his collar, edging towards three, weighing the merits of tilting her head back (the night of the blackout; his mouth on her neck-- and wow, she is sure remembering a lot of details now, huh), and he pulls back. He pulls back. She chases after his lips for a truly humiliating two seconds.
"Excuse me."
And oh shit, right, other people. Sam's already half-standing to let them by (and Andy is not, absolutely not, going to check the front of his jeans for any-- no. Nope. No way.) She pushes herself to her feet. Pulls on her "good morning, random citizen" smile from traffic duty.
(And whoops, okay, those are some shaky knees she's got going on there. Wonderful.)
"Thank you, dear," one of the women says. Andy nods back weakly. Her smile feels stretched, swollen - she resists the urge to touch it, fuss with her hair and smooth down her jeans. It's like both beers have hit her at once - both beers, and then some.
"Sit, McNally," Sam says, a finger in her belt loops. So. She sits.
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Date: 2011-08-26 05:09 am (UTC)"Excuse me."
And oh shit, right, other people. Sam's already half-standing to let them by (and Andy is not, absolutely not, going to check the front of his jeans for any-- no. Nope. No way.) She pushes herself to her feet. Pulls on her "good morning, random citizen" smile from traffic duty.
(And whoops, okay, those are some shaky knees she's got going on there. Wonderful.)
"Thank you, dear," one of the women says. Andy nods back weakly. Her smile feels stretched, swollen - she resists the urge to touch it, fuss with her hair and smooth down her jeans. It's like both beers have hit her at once - both beers, and then some.
"Sit, McNally," Sam says, a finger in her belt loops. So. She sits.