Short Problems
Warnings: Nothing I can think of, other than Jack and Damian being a little OOC because I'm terrible at writing things in-character...
…
Damian muttered a few choice words under his breath as he glared up at the shelf. Of course the chicken noodle soup was on the top shelf; things would be way too easy otherwise. And, just to rub some salt into the wound, all the cans near the edge were already taken and the soups surrounding it were fully stocked, because trying to reach something without having to try not to knock neighboring soups off the shelf wouldn't be any fun. But still, not getting it meant returning to Jack empty-handed, and would force him to admit he couldn't reach the stupid soup can- not high on things he wanted to do. Why on earth did he offer to run and grab it quick in the first place?
He stole a glance up and down the aisle. Nobody was there. He looked back up at the soup. If he really stretched, he might be able to reach that high. Nobody was around to embarrass him if he couldn't do it. Mind made up, he stepped up onto the bottom shelf, using it as a stool for a few well-needed extra inches as he reached up for the can of soup. The tip of his finger brushed the side.
Reach, Damian...
He managed to start spinning the can.
Almost…
He managed to shift it towards him.
Come on…
It was almost close enough for him to be able to grab it.
Just a little more…
His hand wrapped around the prize and a triumphant smile-
"Do you want help?"
Damian jumped with a startled yelp, which quickly turned into a yell as he found himself at an uncorrectable angle and falling backwards. He landed flat on his back on the hard floor, soup cans that he'd knocked off the shelf clattering around him. Jack didn't even bother trying not to laugh.
Damian scrambled to his feet. "That wasn't funny."
"Um, yes, actually, it was."
Damian bit back a sharp retort, knowing it would probably only make things worse.
"So, was all that worth some chicken noodle soup?" Jack asked, making Damian realize that he was still clutching the soup that had caused him so much trouble.
"No." He snapped and dropped it into Jack's basket before starting to collect the mess of cans that had rolled around the aisle.
"Why don't you let me do that?" Jack bent down to help. "After all, I am taller-"
"Shut up."
"What? I can't help it if you're short."
"Stop."
"Oh, yes, that's right. You don't like to be called short." Jack paused, a grin creeping on his face. "Would you prefer 'small'?"
"I mean it, Jack."
"Little?"
"I will throw you in Hades."
Jack sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine, I guess we'll just have to go with 'vertically challenged.'"
"Jack!"
…
A/N: Yes, it's true, I don't own the marvelous thing that is Beyblade and never will. I guess I'll just have to keep myself occupied with writing fanfictions.
Feel free to review. Thanks for reading and I hope you have a good day.
Also I'm on Christmas break, so hopefully I'll have a little more time to work on some neglected stories and/or one shots.