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angel_gidgetTitle: The Time, the Place, The Motion
Rating: PG
Word Count: 676
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Done from comment_fic prompt: "Grease, Danny/Sandy, 10 year high school reunion."
Danny winces.
Rizzo's gotten fat. That is to say, "Betty" has "filled out" and looks "gorgeous" and his high school pal, Kenickie, should be proud. And those two animals--er, angels--they brought with them are just too cute for words.
Think positive.
Putzie and Doody seem happy with the car shop, even if Putzie's looking kinda funny, slicking back hair that's already started to recede, just a little. But Danny knows he's only doing it because Jan's here tonight. Jan would have to be here. She did the catering.
Danny checks himself out in the mirror. Not too bad, really. Teeth not so sparkling white anymore, but he's still runnin'. Not cross-country anymore, but enough to keep trim. He's almost kept himself as well as Marty, with her thousands of dollars from her last three husbands.
He's trying to find all of the old gang, but he keeps getting side-tracked. He can't believe he spent the last twenty minutes talking to Tom Chisum. Danny remembers he used to hate that guy, and he remembers why, but the man's married now, happily, and he has a lot of interesting thoughts on those new TVs they're making nowadays...
It's when he realizes he's been yakking with Eugene about the Soviet Union for the past five minutes, that he reminds himself that, no, that high school hierarchy doesn't mean as much anymore, but yes, he does still have standards for his own self-respect.
After Frenchy's done grinding his ears with mentions of the good ol' days before she'd even heard of beauty school (for Frenchy, the good ol' days are not just time at Rydel, but sophomore and junior year specifically), she directs him to the only reason he's really here.
His first reflex is to dig into the back-pocket he doesn't have for the small-toothed comb he doesn't carry anymore.
'Cause she's still gorgeous.
More filled-out (Not Rizzo "filled-out", but a pretty sort of "just doesn't do cheerleading anymore filled-out"), still smiling, and looking damn sophisticated as all college graduates who've gone straight into a top-ranking accounting firm should.
"Sandy."
She blinks.
"Danny?"
He will not swagger. Or pop the collar on the jacket he isn't wearing. Though his hand does creep up a moment, in that old reflex.
She still plays with her hair, even though it's not as long.
He shrugs and invites her into a hug. She complies, but as she lets go, he grabs her hands and takes a quick peek.
No ring.
God is being a pal today.
It takes him a while to realize what she's saying to him. He blames the thrill of her saying things to him at all.
"So... I feel like I'm essentially done here. I've spoken to all my friends, seen how the school has changed... now I just want to see more of the town. Do you think our old soda shop is standing?"
He knows it is, but it's not the same. It's filled with long-haired kids who smell and have crazy ideas. It's rife with bad music and no sense of style.
"Actually, I... I've learned to like tea. I'd rather go somewhere where it would just be us."
She bites her lip.
"Really now? You're not make fun--?"
"Naw. So long as it's that strong black stuff, kind of like coffee. None of that green or herbal shit."
She giggles and nods before taking his hand and leading him out the double doors.
It's an opportunity. It's like her going to college and him going to work don't even really matter right now. He's still not totally sure why she took his hand, but he won't question it.
Maybe it's because she's missed him as much as he missed her and has just been waiting this right moment, this right time, this right place.
Maybe it's because after years of screwing up, he's earned a little happiness.
Maybe it's just because of a whim or a lucky ritual.
Maybe it's because he put a hint of grease in his hair tonight.
f.i.n.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 676
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Done from comment_fic prompt: "Grease, Danny/Sandy, 10 year high school reunion."
Danny winces.
Rizzo's gotten fat. That is to say, "Betty" has "filled out" and looks "gorgeous" and his high school pal, Kenickie, should be proud. And those two animals--er, angels--they brought with them are just too cute for words.
Think positive.
Putzie and Doody seem happy with the car shop, even if Putzie's looking kinda funny, slicking back hair that's already started to recede, just a little. But Danny knows he's only doing it because Jan's here tonight. Jan would have to be here. She did the catering.
Danny checks himself out in the mirror. Not too bad, really. Teeth not so sparkling white anymore, but he's still runnin'. Not cross-country anymore, but enough to keep trim. He's almost kept himself as well as Marty, with her thousands of dollars from her last three husbands.
He's trying to find all of the old gang, but he keeps getting side-tracked. He can't believe he spent the last twenty minutes talking to Tom Chisum. Danny remembers he used to hate that guy, and he remembers why, but the man's married now, happily, and he has a lot of interesting thoughts on those new TVs they're making nowadays...
It's when he realizes he's been yakking with Eugene about the Soviet Union for the past five minutes, that he reminds himself that, no, that high school hierarchy doesn't mean as much anymore, but yes, he does still have standards for his own self-respect.
After Frenchy's done grinding his ears with mentions of the good ol' days before she'd even heard of beauty school (for Frenchy, the good ol' days are not just time at Rydel, but sophomore and junior year specifically), she directs him to the only reason he's really here.
His first reflex is to dig into the back-pocket he doesn't have for the small-toothed comb he doesn't carry anymore.
'Cause she's still gorgeous.
More filled-out (Not Rizzo "filled-out", but a pretty sort of "just doesn't do cheerleading anymore filled-out"), still smiling, and looking damn sophisticated as all college graduates who've gone straight into a top-ranking accounting firm should.
"Sandy."
She blinks.
"Danny?"
He will not swagger. Or pop the collar on the jacket he isn't wearing. Though his hand does creep up a moment, in that old reflex.
She still plays with her hair, even though it's not as long.
He shrugs and invites her into a hug. She complies, but as she lets go, he grabs her hands and takes a quick peek.
No ring.
God is being a pal today.
It takes him a while to realize what she's saying to him. He blames the thrill of her saying things to him at all.
"So... I feel like I'm essentially done here. I've spoken to all my friends, seen how the school has changed... now I just want to see more of the town. Do you think our old soda shop is standing?"
He knows it is, but it's not the same. It's filled with long-haired kids who smell and have crazy ideas. It's rife with bad music and no sense of style.
"Actually, I... I've learned to like tea. I'd rather go somewhere where it would just be us."
She bites her lip.
"Really now? You're not make fun--?"
"Naw. So long as it's that strong black stuff, kind of like coffee. None of that green or herbal shit."
She giggles and nods before taking his hand and leading him out the double doors.
It's an opportunity. It's like her going to college and him going to work don't even really matter right now. He's still not totally sure why she took his hand, but he won't question it.
Maybe it's because she's missed him as much as he missed her and has just been waiting this right moment, this right time, this right place.
Maybe it's because after years of screwing up, he's earned a little happiness.
Maybe it's just because of a whim or a lucky ritual.
Maybe it's because he put a hint of grease in his hair tonight.
f.i.n.
