The Wager (Drabble Project, Day 115)
Apr. 26th, 2012 01:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
were_lemurDoctor Who, Jo Grant, Captain Yates, Sergeant Benton, all ages, not mine. Jo puts her escapology skills to the test.
"Start," Jo says, and Captain Yates pushes the button on his stopwatch.
She sets to work, her face a study in concentration. He tries not to look too closely at the way her close-fitting vest emphasizes curves already enhanced by her position; hands held behind her back by the handcuffs.
Sergeant Benton, he sees, is intently studying his shoes.
"Time!" Jo calls, and holds up the unfastened handcuffs, a triumphant grin on her face. Yates stops the clock. "Twenty-seven seconds."
"That's three pints you owe me, Sergeant," she says; one per second under (or over) thirty, that was the wager.
"Start," Jo says, and Captain Yates pushes the button on his stopwatch.
She sets to work, her face a study in concentration. He tries not to look too closely at the way her close-fitting vest emphasizes curves already enhanced by her position; hands held behind her back by the handcuffs.
Sergeant Benton, he sees, is intently studying his shoes.
"Time!" Jo calls, and holds up the unfastened handcuffs, a triumphant grin on her face. Yates stops the clock. "Twenty-seven seconds."
"That's three pints you owe me, Sergeant," she says; one per second under (or over) thirty, that was the wager.
