Fandom: The West Wing/Studio 60
Word Count: 300
Summary: Sam's already complained twice about being offered jobs in development, and Ginger's not even sure what that is.
Notes: Written for talumin for International Day of Femslash.
Ginger probably shouldn't be doing this, leaning closer as Jeannie's hand slides up her leg, downing what's left of her drink. Sam and Toby are still around somewhere, drinking too much as they try to avoid socialising with Hollywood producers; Sam's already complained twice about being offered jobs in development, and Ginger's not even sure what that is.
Still, they aren't here right now, and Ginger's long since given up looking for them; Sam had said that it was a party, told her to relax, have fun, and that's exactly what she's doing. Jeannie slides forward in her chair, like she's whispering something, and Ginger closes her eyes as the warm puff of air hits her neck, biting her lip as Jeannie's hand moves higher. They're mostly hidden from the rest of the party, forgotten by the people around them, and when nobody turns to stare, Ginger figures maybe she should be doing this, after all.
So when she gets up, sliding her fingers across Jeannie's as she stands, Jeannie follows her, hooking her arm loosely through Ginger's. They're almost at the door when Sam's suddenly in front of them, and Ginger stops, but she doesn't let go of Jeannie's arm.
"You're leaving?" he asks, and Ginger nods, yes; it isn't until he's almost turned to leave that he pauses, glancing at Jeannie and then back at Ginger.
"Oh," he says, comprehension dawning, and Ginger can feel her cheeks beginning to redden. "Oh. Well. That's, um. That's great." And then, sensing the sudden awkwardness, he steps aside, and Ginger doesn't look back as Jeannie pulls her towards the door.
"I'm sorry -" Ginger starts, but Jeannie stops her with a kiss, pressing her against the wall; when she finally pulls back, lips slightly parted, Ginger isn't thinking about Sam at all.