A/N: After for begging for some prompts on tumblr and twitter, I combined two that I received.
One from Grelca: pretend mindy wasn't actually dating cliff and she was working out for some other reason and after dcimpt danny decides to really let mindy know that he doesn't think she has anything to be insecure about ...
And one from luvs-jade: Mindy and Danny get stuck in the toilet that Peter and Morgan did …
"Tamra! Open up. You can't monopolize the bathroom like this! I have to pee before I head home!" Mindy hopped up and down. Her bladder was killing her. She pressed her knees together and banged on the door. "Tamra!"
Before she could start pounding again she felt a hand on her shoulder, she jerked her head around to glare at its owner. Peter. "Mindy, everyone's leaving for home, just use the men's." He angled his head to the door on the right. "It's not like anyone's gonna walk in on you dropping a deuce."
She frowned, "Ugh, Peter, you're disgusting. Ladies don't' call it that, and it's obvious that I need to pee, ok." She whimpered. "I drank like 120 ounces of water today. I'm on a cleanse." Her cleanse was a half-hearted attempt to carry on with the healthy changes she'd been making.
She'd been invited to go on a short alumni cruise, and as much as she hated the idea of wearing a bikini in January, she hated the idea of not being able to flaunt her success even more. Danny had been surprisingly helpful, being exactly the sort of workout buddy that she'd needed, not letting her weasel out of it all. She'd been working out with him for a couple weeks, but after their somewhat awkward, ok really awkward, nude encounters this week, she'd sort of been avoiding him. She was actually pretty irritated that things were so uncomfortable between them now, it totally unhinged her plan to debut her bangin' new bod in a couple weeks.
She groaned, leaning against the door, she was about to lose her cool and tear the damn thing from its hinges. She glanced back at Peter who was still staring at her, waiting for her to take his suggestion. "WHAT?"
Peter shrugged, clearly indifferent to whatever choice she made. "Well, I wouldn't count on Tamra vacating that bathroom any time soon. She's got a hot date with her boo." He shouldered his messenger bag and headed toward the elevator where a pouty Morgan was waiting for him. "We're heading out to Salvador's tonight, you should meet up with us, 'cause it's Friday Friday, gotta get down on Friday." Peter was bobbing his head to the sound of imaginary music as they disappeared into the elevator.
Mindy looked back at the door in front of her. She could hear Tamra singing along to whatever song she was playing on her phone. Oh, screw it. She abruptly turned and stomped into the men's bathroom. Peter was right, there wasn't anyone here who would walk in on her, and even if they did, what exactly would they see? Her feet under the bottom of a stall? So what.
Danny couldn't concentrate. His desk was a mess of scattered patient files and medical journals. He'd had real trouble lately focusing things while at work. He'd been lying to himself for a while now, thinking he'd just been going through a phase, that perhaps he was just stressed out, but the reality was, he was perpetually distracted, and the cause of that distraction wasn't exactly something he could get away from.
They were friends… or something. He didn't really know what. He did know, that the things he did for her went above and beyond anything he'd ever done for friends in the past. It scared him a little, the ease with which she roped him into doing things he found irksome, or thought he would find irksome anyway.
Danny, let's go get organic froyo for lunch.
Danny, walk me home, I just watched a documentary about serial killers, and I'm, like, a prime target.
Danny, listen to this song by Beyoncé, maybe you'll stop frowning.
Danny, go on a double date with me and some d-bag who's not gonna treat me right.
Danny, please be my personal trainer. I want to look hot for my alumni cruise. I'll probably meet some dickhead and shack up with him and have ten dickhead little tykes, that'll run around with names like Bentley and Aspen.
The sound of his pencil snapping in his right hand pulled him away from his musings. Shit. That last request had turned out to be the final straw. He'd said no, damn it, and yet when she'd began her wheedling, stroking his ego a little, grabbing at his bicep, things he knew were blatantly manipulative, his brain couldn't really process it, and he'd heard himself reluctantly agreeing to all of it.
It had been a huge mistake. Hearing her talk continually about her body, and how she wanted to change it irked him, but he said little about it, because it was none of his business. Hearing her talk about her various plans to reel in a suitor while on her mini vacation, had totally rankled, and yet he still said little. Then he'd seen her naked, and he wouldn't have let it affect him, except she was so horrified by it all, her normally brash sense of self confidence had slipped, and he just couldn't take seeing her like that, and it struck an odd chord within him knowing she thought he didn't find her attractive. It was just so patently untrue.
With the best intentions he'd strode to her office, ready to tell her, finally, that she was a beautiful and bold woman, and that she got on every single nerve he had, and he wouldn't have it any other way. But, instead of finding her moping, she was spinning around in her birthday suit, smiling at her reflection in the full length mirror. Who did something like that? In their office? In the middle of the day? Without locking the door? It was so unfair.
Sure, he'd seen her nude before, the one time he'd tried to be her doctor. Even the incident at the gym hadn't really affected him like this. She'd been so horrified, and scrambling to get away, that he hadn't even had time to think. But, in her office, for that split second before he realized what was happening, he'd taken her all in. The satisfied smile gracing her face as she looked at herself in the mirror had twisted his stomach into knots. She'd so casually swung her hair over her shoulder, the silken mass brushing against the smooth expanse of exposed skin at her back making his mouth dry. It was so different, seeing her like that, totally confident. He'd wanted to drink it all in, stare indefinitely, but he'd quickly remembered her discomfort from earlier and snapped back to reality, trying valiantly to be a gentleman.
He could barely even recall the conversation they'd had afterward. He just remembered her striding angrily into his office, positively glowing with the heat of her indignation, ready to rip him to shreds, fully expecting him to argue with her, but as she went along, that vulnerability he'd witnessed before seeped back into her voice. She'd ticked off a litany of things she assumed he would change about her. He'd found it so perplexing, again struck by how wrong she was.
But, he hadn't been articulate enough to say what he really thought, merely denying what she'd said, feeling somewhat giddy when she reacted physically to his words, at first even more vulnerable than before, but slowly putting back up her unapologetic confidence. He'd said something stupid about personal grooming, the mere thought of which had his ears burning again. He was baiting her, wanting to rile her up, but she'd just turned it back on him and made him feel slightly mortified. He really hadn't known what he'd been trying to do.
He looked at the paperwork scattered across his desk, fully aware that he hadn't even glanced at it in the past ten minutes. He heaved a sigh of frustration, pushing away from the desk. He needed to clear his head. He'd make a quick lap around the block, resist the urge to sneak out and smoke, and then get back to work.
Mindy let out a huge sigh of relief as she exited the stall. She suddenly felt magnanimous toward Peter, grateful for his common sense in the face of her own inability to see past the urge to pee. Maybe she would meet up with him and Morgan, have a few drinks, probably vodka, because it had the fewest calories.
In her haste to relieve herself she hadn't paid much attention to her surroundings. She was suddenly struck by how dingy everything in here seemed. It wasn't exactly disgusting, but definitely not the level of pristineness she was used to.
Wrinkling her nose, she smoothed her skirt down and went to wash her hands. She turned the faucet on to wet her hands, but nothing immediately came out, just a strange almost whining noise. She bent down to peer at the spout. Just as she was about to give up, the whining stopped and water spurted out, splashing up in her face and all down the front of her blouse.
She let out a little yelp as she jumped back, an expletive quickly following. The front of her super cute ruffle-front button-up was soaked. She yanked half a dozen paper towels from the dispenser, patting fruitlessly at her chest.
She frowned. She could always just go put her coat on, button it up over this mess and go home, but she'd actually been looking forward to meeting up with Peter and Morgan. As weird as they were, she did enjoy their company occasionally, and since she'd been avoiding Danny, it was like there was some kind of gap in her social life.
She eyed the hand dryer mounted on the wall. That could work. She quickly unbuttoned the blouse, unzipping the high-waisted skirt it was tucked into as she carefully slid it off to avoid wrinkling it any more than it already was. She hung it on a coat hook beside the door. If she was going to put a dry blouse on, she needed to attend to her soaked bra too.
She quickly unhooked the garment, shivering as a draft chased across her skin, raising goose bumps. She turned the hand dryer on and held her bra beneath it, flapping it around to expedite the drying process. The dull roar filled her ears, blocking out all other noises.
Danny exited his office, heading toward the elevator, prepared to take a walk around the block and back to clear his head, but something stopped him. There was noise coming from the men's restroom. A dull yet incessant racket that sounded as though someone were taking a really long time to dry their hands.
He'd heard Peter and Morgan leave earlier, mentioning something about a bar, and he was fairly sure Jeremy was gone for the day as well. He sighed. For some reason the men's restroom was a continual source of problems. The water pipes constantly had air bubbles in them, the motion sensors on the urinals sometimes went haywire and the damn things ran continually, and sometimes you had to jiggle the handle to even get the door open. It wouldn't surprise him if there was some electrical issue causing the hand dryer to run when no one was there. He pursed his lips, sighing for what felt like the hundredth time.
As he approached the men's restroom, the door to the lady's swung open, and Tamra popped out, makeup freshly applied, wearing a short cocktail dress. Earbuds in at full volume, she nodded at Danny, talking over the music in her ears. "DR. C YOU NEED TO GET OUT OF THIS OFFICE AND HAVE A GOOD TIME. IT'S FRIDAY."
Not waiting for his reply she bobbed over to the elevator and glided out of the office. Right, it's Friday. He could go on a date with some woman he could barely pay attention to. That sounded like a great idea.
He turned back to the men's room, and grabbed the handle, swinging the door wide open, totally unprepared for the sight that greeted him.