Leisure

Leisure
by Cristina 'Nina' Trask
Set after "Christmas in the Airwaves" and before "Magic"

The undying disclaimer: "Remember WENN" and its characters are copyright Rupert Holmes, Howard Meltzer and AMC (grrr.) This story is copyright Cristina Trask, 1999. All rights reserved.

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Betty curled her legs underneath her as she sank into the only comfortable chair in the room. She lifted a steaming cup of cocoa to her lips. The liquid burned her tongue. She shivered and returned her mug to the small table nearby.

Rainy Monday morning sounds drifted up from the streets. Betty snuggled deeper into her flannel robe. She tried not to concentrate on anything. From behind her half-closed eyes, she could see her radio.

No radio. None whatsoever. Scott, Maple, and Mackie had been extremely adamant last Saturday that she take a complete break from WENN. But the comparatively quiet environment and the lack of tension were setting her on edge.

"Odd." Betty closed her eyes and concentrated on relaxing. Soon she was mentally tallying how many scripts needed to be written for Tuesday.

Well, if she couldn't type, then she would at least put together rough drafts in her mind. A slamming door broke her reverie.

Betty again grasped the handle of her cup of cocoa and gingerly took a sip. The warm drink turned her stomach to thoughts of breakfast. She stood and shuffled to her bedside table to check her watch. It was late enough that she decided to wait another hour before eating lunch.

A knock sounded on her door, followed by an urgent, "Betty!" Then hushed, "Scott Sherwood. Let me in."

Betty's face became at once confused and frowning. She hurried to the door and cracked it open. "Scott!" He was indeed there. She whispered vehemently, "If you're caught here, I'm in more trouble than you're worth!"

"Well, it'll be a lot harder to catch me if I'm not out here in the hall. So, do you mind?" He pushed his way through the barely open door. "What kind of welcome is this, Betty?" Scott closed the door behind him and locked it. He grinned expectantly at Betty, who was speechless with indignation.

She soon found vent for her feelings. "How dare you BARGE in here like a...a..."

"A high-handed business man?" he supplied. "But that's what I am."

"And expect me to welcome you with..."

"Open arms?" he again finished her sentence.

She crossed her arms and fumed silently, trying to think of something scathing.

"Really, Miss Roberts, I'm hurt." Scott's glittering eyes belied his words.

"Why are you here?" She glared. If Scott could be aggressive and blunt, well, she could too.

"Flowers don't look right in a bachelor's quarters." Scott withdrew a modest bouquet of yellow flowers from inside his overcoat.

His cheery offering had the desired effect. Betty stared with open mouth. "Scott. They're beautiful."

"Go get dressed. I'm taking you to lunch." Scott led her to the partition that doubled as a dressing screen. Betty made light protest. It was rather nice to be taken care of. That, and she had nothing better to do. For a second she considered telling him to wait downstairs while she dressed. But no. If Scott was anything - and he was a lot of things - he was at least a gentleman. Betty was half-way into her purple sweater when she heard Scott rummaging.

"What are you doing, Scott?"

"Looking for a vase. Ouch!"

"Bottom cabinet; far left." Betty emerged from behind the screen, cinching her belt as she approached Scott. He had one hand on the back of his head. "What did you do?" she asked with concern. Betty moved his hand away from his head. "Let me see."

He winced. "Ouch."

She gently probed the spot. "There's already a knot forming. I wish I had some ice." Instead, she dipped a cloth in her water pitcher. "This will have to do."

Scott took the cloth and held it to the back of his head. "I'll be fine. Don't you know of any home remedies? You know...plasters, elixirs, eyes of newt?" He chuckled.

Betty smiled. "No, but there's something my mother always did for me." Without premeditation, she pressed a quick kiss to Scott's injury. "There. All better?"

Scott's grin surpassed its usual sparkle. "Why, Betty Roberts! You're quite the nurse."

Realization jarred Betty. She turned back to the cabinets and pulled out a vase. She bent her blushing face away from Scott while her shaking fingers arranged the flowers. "How do you plan to get out here without being seen? Or have you thought that far ahead?" No getting around her pointed question.

"Well." Scott walked to the door and readied her coat. "You go down and distract whatever battle-axe of a matron is guarding the front door."

"Scott, I couldn't get that 'battleaxe' away from her post if my life depended on it." Finished with the flowers, she allowed him to help her with her coat.

"But you do it everyday with sponsors, and your job depends on it."

"Yes, but--"

He interrupted her. "Very exciting."

Betty knew it was useless to argue. She was in too deep as it was. She also knew that Scott's breath was warming the back of her neck. They crept down the hall. Betty stepped into the first elevator. "You'll have five minutes. No more!" she warned.

"You're a wonderful woman, Betty Roberts."

At least she had the ride down to recover from the effect of Scott Sherwood's flirtatious wink.

The End

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