Cherry Chocolate Chip 27: Sales
Title: Sales
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Cherry chocolate chip 27 (disbelief), pocky, fresh peaches ( Keep it light tonight when few want to deal with heavy stuff), fresh pineapple (The Pink Panther Theme).
Word Count: 100
Rating: PG.
Summary: "So, Danny, what do you do?"
Notes: Yeah, no malt, but this silliness has been stuck in my head for a while and then there was the pineapple. So here you go. Anna is one of Lars's sisters.
"So, Danny," Anna said, once the pleasantries were over. "What do you do?"
Danny suppressed a groan. She hated this question so fucking much-- she knew people weren't really interested, but it always felt like she had the wrong answer anyway. "Navy reservist," she said, "and self-defense instructor. You?"
She'd found that deflecting the question got good results.
"Sales." Anna said nothing more, surprisingly-- most people loved to talk about themselves.
Danny raised an eyebrow. "Selling what?"
Anna smiled, pleasantly. "That's classified."
Danny stared. Anna ignored her, and kept eating.
At a loss, she said, "So... how 'bout them Yankees?"
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Cherry chocolate chip 27 (disbelief), pocky, fresh peaches ( Keep it light tonight when few want to deal with heavy stuff), fresh pineapple (The Pink Panther Theme).
Word Count: 100
Rating: PG.
Summary: "So, Danny, what do you do?"
Notes: Yeah, no malt, but this silliness has been stuck in my head for a while and then there was the pineapple. So here you go. Anna is one of Lars's sisters.
"So, Danny," Anna said, once the pleasantries were over. "What do you do?"
Danny suppressed a groan. She hated this question so fucking much-- she knew people weren't really interested, but it always felt like she had the wrong answer anyway. "Navy reservist," she said, "and self-defense instructor. You?"
She'd found that deflecting the question got good results.
"Sales." Anna said nothing more, surprisingly-- most people loved to talk about themselves.
Danny raised an eyebrow. "Selling what?"
Anna smiled, pleasantly. "That's classified."
Danny stared. Anna ignored her, and kept eating.
At a loss, she said, "So... how 'bout them Yankees?"