"I don’t care about fair, as long as it works." She knew from his tone, and how smoothly he slid his hand over hers, that his comment was a tease, not a rebuke. Amber smiled lightly, glad that Eric recognized her below-the-belt tactics for what they were, and showed only attraction in return. He understood.
Amber titled her head at Eric. "Who says you don't have to win your girl a huge stuffed animal now?" It was only once the words had rolled off her tongue that she realized her slip; she'd pretty much called herself Eric's girl. Out loud. To his face. Her hand tightened beneath his. It was nothing she hadn't been thinking, more or less, and he'd started it, setting up the comparison, but still. It wasn't as if they'd discussed what they were, beyond agreeing that, at this moment, they wanted to be together. Well. She couldn't take it back now.
Turning to face her window, Amber went on as if she hadn't said anything out of place. Outside, the lamp posts and buildings zoomed by as they took the familiar route downtown. "Let's take those carnival people down, winning as many animals as we can. We can give our spoils to the pediatrics ward-- Cuddy will adore us if we do." This way they could kill two birds with one stone, beating a game and becoming more popular at work. (Better yet, she could win the prizes and not have deal with them afterwards. She'd love it if Eric proved his mettle through childish carnival games, but what would she do with an oversized teddy bear?) Though, given the context, perhaps it'd be more accurate to say shoot down more than one target with purposefully unbalanced toy guns.
“This’ll be fun,” Amber promised. And it would be. Games to beat (cheat at), crap food to eat, kids running around in costumes (both store-bought and more creatively, if incomprehensive, self-made), mockable exhibits…. and Eric as company. They could walk hand-in-hand, or something cheesy like that, somewhere everyone could see. And if they had one of those photo booths, Amber would drag Eric into it, no matter how much he might protest. They looked too good together not to preserve that on film.
no subject
Amber titled her head at Eric. "Who says you don't have to win your girl a huge stuffed animal now?" It was only once the words had rolled off her tongue that she realized her slip; she'd pretty much called herself Eric's girl. Out loud. To his face. Her hand tightened beneath his. It was nothing she hadn't been thinking, more or less, and he'd started it, setting up the comparison, but still. It wasn't as if they'd discussed what they were, beyond agreeing that, at this moment, they wanted to be together. Well. She couldn't take it back now.
Turning to face her window, Amber went on as if she hadn't said anything out of place. Outside, the lamp posts and buildings zoomed by as they took the familiar route downtown. "Let's take those carnival people down, winning as many animals as we can. We can give our spoils to the pediatrics ward-- Cuddy will adore us if we do." This way they could kill two birds with one stone, beating a game and becoming more popular at work. (Better yet, she could win the prizes and not have deal with them afterwards. She'd love it if Eric proved his mettle through childish carnival games, but what would she do with an oversized teddy bear?) Though, given the context, perhaps it'd be more accurate to say shoot down more than one target with purposefully unbalanced toy guns.
“This’ll be fun,” Amber promised. And it would be. Games to beat (cheat at), crap food to eat, kids running around in costumes (both store-bought and more creatively, if incomprehensive, self-made), mockable exhibits…. and Eric as company. They could walk hand-in-hand, or something cheesy like that, somewhere everyone could see. And if they had one of those photo booths, Amber would drag Eric into it, no matter how much he might protest. They looked too good together not to preserve that on film.