Thanks to AerynB for the prompt. For purposes of this fic, the LITs have quarters in the Annex. Set in the first half of the season.
Stone sat on an armchair in the hallway that led to the Annex's living quarters. He had an art portfolio on his lap and a notepad on the table next to him. He, or rather his alter ego, was long overdue for an article, so he figured he could use the time he had while he waited for the washer to get writing.
He was not particularly fond of doing laundry, finding it a necessary evil. He'd taken care of it a few times helping out around the house as a kid, but having sisters meant that he usually ended up with trash duty instead of laundry. All of that wasn't as bad as when he'd gotten his own place and had to use the town's one laundromat. First off, he'd discovered it was not a good place to meet women, unlike what all his buddies had told him. And secondly, it was as boring as hell. The tv, when it worked, was usually on some talk show. Obviously he couldn't get away with reading, not at a place where anyone in town could have seen him. He sometimes got away with writing. When he got a smart phone, things were much easier because he could read while pretending to play Angry Birds. At least here at the Annex, he could read to his heart's delight while waiting for the cycle to finish.
Cassandra breezed by him, heading toward the machines, carrying a laundry basket.
"I'm using the washer." He called after her.
"Oh, I figured. I totally forgot to take my things out of the dryer, so I'm clearing them out for you."
"Thanks."
From his vantage point, he could see her leaning over the dryer, folding her items before putting them in the basket. Then he realized just what she'd been washing.
He turned bright red and turned back to his book, trying to blot out the image of little lacy nothings with fine art. It wasn't working as well as he'd hoped. Things were uneasy with Cassandra. He'd been attracted to her from the get go and even now, he still couldn't help but like her. But what she'd done . . . .
Thinking about her underwear was something he just plain should not be doing around a co-worker. Period. Even if things weren't already complex. So he needed to just shut it out.
The washer beeped and he closed his eyes. Just great. He was hoping she'd be long gone before he had to get up.
"The washer's done," Cassandra said cheerfully. "I'm just about finished, so the dryer's all yours."
"Alright, thank you."
He waited until Cassandra had passed by before he got up. Cassandra had at least remembered to clean out the lint trap, which was more then he could say for Jones. Or sometimes even Baird.
He started tossing his stuff into the dryer and then stopped dead. That hoodie was not pink . . . no he was pretty certain that the hoodie he'd thrown in the washer was off white. What the hell?
He started rooting through the rest of his clothes. He didn't have anything red in that wash that could have run. Then he found the offending garment and turned as red as the pair of panties themselves.
"Cassandra!"
Evidently, Cassandra hadn't made it to her room yet, because he could hear her running back to the laundry room.
"What? What's wrong?" She stopped dead when she saw what he was holding. "Oh, um, looks like I forgot something."
"Yeah."
They were both bright red as she reached out and took the underwear out of his hand. Then she noticed the hoodie he was holding in his other hand.
"Was that pink before?"
"No." Stone was glad to have an excuse to look at something other than Cassandra. "It was off white."
"Well, um, it dyed fairly evenly. You could still wear it, no one would know it wasn't pink to begin with. I mean, I've seen you wear pink before, so I know that you don't have trouble wearing it. A lot of men do, but you're confident about your . . . ." Cassandra trailed off, realizing that she was babbling in her embarrassment.
Stone suddenly started laughing. There was nothing else to do in this situation. Cassandra joined in a beat later.
Then he sobered up with a sigh. "I guess it doesn't look that bad, does it?"
"I don't think so. I would dry it and see how it looks, it's hard to tell wet, but it looks like it was always that color. I am so sorry, Stone, I thought I checked the washer thoroughly."
"It happens. I have sisters. I should be used to it. It's just . . . ."
"Yeah." Cassandra said quickly.
"You might as well just throw those in with my stuff." He said trying to be casual. "Otherwise you'll have to hang them up or something. I doubt they'll run anymore."
"It's so weird, they didn't run in my laundry. Of course, I don't have any white . . . ." Cassandra stopped suddenly, blushing all over again.
Stone's eyes widened. He didn't need to add that thought to what he'd already seen of her underwear.
"Um, forget I just said that."
"Right. " Stone turned away from her, using the excuse to throw his clothes into the dryer. Cassandra looked at him sideways and then tossed her underwear in too.
"I'll, um, come back for that."
"Yeah. Um, Cassandra?"
"Yes?"
"This whole thing. . . It's awkward, but we're adults. Just um, Jones? He can never know that hoodie wasn't always pink."
"Yikes, no. We do not tell Ezekiel. Ever."
The End