Category- Fluff, response to October challenge
Pairing- Dan/Jan, of course
Spoilers- We'll just say the first few eps of S8, because I can't remember exactly which they were. Anyways, the spoilers are very, very minor and shouldn't much affect anything.
Summary- When nothing's going right...
Disclaimer- I... still own nothing.
A/N- Hey, Heroes totally never happened. Heroes? What?
This is totally spur-of-the-moment. I had given up hope of entering into the Challenge contest, as submissions are due, well, today. Then suddenly my muse arrived with much fanfare and this happened. I enjoy, I hope you do as well. Keep me posted.
Sometimes it just makes you want to cry, when it's a special night and nothing's gone right so far.
You're in the living room, standing, longingly eyeing the sofa, but not wanting to sit because you're already late and will be bolting out the door any. second. now. (And because she just pressed your pants and a wrinkle might send her over the edge.)
She tore her dress, the one she's just bought and absolutely loves. Now she can't wear the shoes she's bought to match, the jewelry she's so carefully chosen. She's been in the bedroom for half an hour, dressing, digging for different shoes, undressing, choosing something else. Halves of pairs of shoes have disappeared to god-knows-where, as have earrings, and necklaces have been "misplaced" by Cassandra, who's in the kitchen loading the dishwasher in hopes of forgiveness.
Her hair's not going right. You think it looks fantastic, all mussed, with too-short strands falling from the sparkly clip she found buried in the vanity drawer. You can't tell her that, though, because when you tried she told you to quit being impatient, she couldn't go out like that.
You think she regrets lying around all day in pajamas, looking through photo albums. She could have had more time to get ready if she'd saved nostalgia for another day. She thinks you're angry that she's not ready. You *are* a little anxious to get to the party; after all, your two best friends have just been promoted. But it doesn't matter. They'll understand, and you're not angry. You just wish you could somehow make it all better- sew the dress, find the chains so she can stop worrying over them.
The noise upstairs disappears, the constant stomping back and forth between your bedroom and Cassie's and the bathroom. The hair dryer's been silent for some time and you think, this is it.
"Tell her I'll find the jewelry," Cassie pleads, finished with her chore. "I think it's best I avoid her for now."
You chuckle at the rare display of guilt from the teen. "I'm sure she'll forgive you, Cass," you assure her with a pat on the arm. She visibly relaxes.
"She usually does," she responds with an awkward grin. "I really should be more careful with her stuff, though."
At that moment, Janet appears at the top of the stairs, wearing that black dress you always saw hanging and always wondered about (it looks better than you'd imagined), with strappy black shoes, simple diamond earrings, and the tennis bracelet you bought her last Christmas. Her hair's been salvaged- not as mussed, but you're happy to see a couple strands ready to slip out from behind her ears.
She frantically (but carefully, with those heels) descends the stairs, grabs her coat from the closet and puts it on. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she asserts in a frustrated tone. "Let's go."
As she rushes past you for the door, you grab her by the arm and look her up and down, taking in every detail. She softens at the appraisal. You know that hungry look you're wearing just gets her. Every time.
"You look dazzling," you promise, pulling her close to you. You can spare a few moments for sentiment. When you release her, you decide it's worth it to be ten more seconds late if it can transform the madwoman from earlier into the smiling beauty in front of you.
Sometimes it just makes you want to cry, when you love someone as much as you love her.
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