Fic: Valentine Sins, ensemble cast
ENVY
“Is everything okay?” Kristen approached Sam and Jason cautiously. “I heard you both yelling from over at the vending machine.”
“We’re fine,” Jason said.
“We’re married,” Sam said at the same time.
“Oh.” Kristen nodded, smiled, hoping her large teeth worked their girlish, dorky charm. “That’s…interesting. Jason, why are you carrying your kid around?”
“Why are you carrying a dozen Twix around?” Sam said.
“Oh, these old things.” Kristen laughed into the awkward silence. “For one Jon Stewart.”
“Are you selling for your Girl Scout troop?” Jason asked.
Sam stepped on his foot. “What did I tell you about dirty talk at work? You only have it with me.”
“No, I’m just delivering the candy,” Kristen said. “And sorry about all the chocolate wrappers on the floor. Demetri was going to throw the trash out but he… got distracted. Well it was nice talking to you both-”
“Oh Kristen,” Jason interrupted, “I think you have something on your neck.”
Sam glared. “Jason. You probably put it there.”
“No, it’s nothing,” Kristen said quickly, shaking her hair around the dark, purpling spot. “I burned myself curling my hair this morning.”
“Ah, yes,” Sam said. “Hair products always give me hickeys, too.”
Kristen waved at the baby, half-wishing she had one, and then continued down the hall. Around the corner, she came to Jon’s office door. It was closed. She knocked five times quickly.
“Come in.”
She pushed open the door and popped into the office with an enthusiastic grin.
“Afternoon, Jon.”
“Oh, Kristen. Hey. What’s up, everything all right?” He looked up from the strewn pile of blue paper and index cards across his desk. His brows furrowed when he saw the stack of candy overflowing her arms. “Uh, what is…?”
“Happy early Valentine’s Day, Jon.” She skittered over, dumping them in front of him. She hooked her thumbs in her jean pockets, confiding, “From a secret admirer.”
Jon laughed once, short. “Uh, Kristen. It’s really not so secret when you deliver the gift yourself.”
“Oh, not from me,” she said. “From somebody else.”
“Nice, Kristen. Very funny. Please tell the team I was very excited and hopeful, and how deeply crushed and embarrassed I was when you revealed it was all a prank you and Sam and Jason and John and Aasif and Demetri put together.”
“Well they won’t think it’s very funny. Because the gift isn’t from us.”
“It’s from our vending machine.”
“But not from us.” Which, Kristen considered, was kind of true, even though John was out nearly twenty dollars for the Twix. She wished Jon would look at her more.
Instead he glanced over the bronze-colored wrappers piled upon his desk. He inhaled deeply through his nose, his shoulders rising and then falling as he sighed. He scratched at the side of his head.
“All right, well, thank you, Kristen. I have to finish up a couple more things here-”
Kristen stared at him blankly, trying to stay longer. “Aren’t you just dying to know who it’s from?”
“Well there’s no card in this pile of Twix.”
“But I know. You could ask me.”
“You said it was from a secret admirer.”
“Which is why you should be dying to know who.”
“Well,” Jon said, like he was explaining away a magic trick to a child, “Tracey stopped in this morning because I forgot my keys on the kitchen table again. We talked about Valentine’s Day plans and I joked how she never gets me chocolate like I do for her. So odds are she thought she’d be funny and ta-da.” Jon waved his hands over the candy bars.
“Guess again!” Kristen said cheerfully.
“She also probably paid you to lie,” Jon said. “So thanks. I’ll let her know you held up under pressure.”
Kristen took in the office around her as he went back to his notes. Ideas posted on the board, the good ones circled from this morning’s brainstorming session. Funny pictures tacked up along open space: Rob messing up John’s hair the first day they worked together; Sam and Jason tonguing while both flipping off the camera; Aasif dressed as a Muslim with a pirate eye-patch; Demetri looking deadpan into the shot, holding up a piece of paper that read SAY CHEESE; Kristen herself dressed as Wonder Woman; and Stephen, an old picture, his hair floppy, in an unfocused mid-rant while Jon, clearer, laughed in the background.
Her eyes turned back to Jon. She wished stronger than ever that she really was the one who had thought of giving him chocolates.
“Are you sure you don’t want to know?” Kristen pressed.
Jon sighed. “I’m pretty sure I know anyway,” he said. “And I’ll tell my wife thanks, and to try harder next time.”
Grudgingly, Kristen took the hint and left.
LUST