Title: Small Explosions
Info: written for this prompt at nbckink, in which anon would like to see Ann/Karen doppelsex. So: Parks and Recreation/The Office, Ann/Karen. Hard R.
–
Ann’s hair is shorter, and she’s wearing her nursing uniform. That’s really the only difference, and they’ve been staring at each other long enough for one to pop out. Leslie’s mentioned something like this, she mentions a lot of things. How when you’re little you think that there’s one perfect person in the world for you and you just go through life wondering if maybe you missed them. And how there are — maybe, Leslie’s a little dubious on this point — alternate realities and alternate selves who look like you and maybe even act like you but go down drastically different paths and if you ever met your doppelganger, the world would like, explode.
Well.
The world isn’t exploding.
“So, this is weird, right? I think this is weird.” Ann doesn’t know what to do with her hands. What does one do with her hands in the event of randomly encountering one’s doppelganger in a bar, three drinks in.
“Actually, and don’t judge me for this, but I think I’m drunk enough for this to not be weird.” The other Ann puts her hand out. “I’m Karen. And you aren’t.”
“Ann.” She shakes her head. “Obviously I’ve never seen you before, so I think I can ask this. I mean, we practically know each other already.” Karen nods in confirmation, her eyes a little glazed over. “What are you doing here?”
“Business trip. Apparently, Pawnee is in need of paper sales.”
“And The Bulge is on your sales tour?”
“I don’t know why but I figured it was referring to a singular bulge, and not two bulges sitting next to you at the bar and then leaving together to do god-knows-what in the bathroom.” Karen smirks, eying the gentlemen on the dance floor. “Still, they’re very pretty to watch.”
“My friend Leslie,” Ann feels compelled to explain, “she’s like… The Bulge’s mascot. She’s in government, and she accidentally married these two male penguins for a zoo promotion. It was actually really cute.”
“So, you and your friend Leslie come here a lot?”
“Yeah, totally!” Wait. “I mean. No. Not… what you’re thinking.” Ann quickly downs another shot. Karen is making her very nervous. She’s a stranger, right? She doesn’t know anything.
Knowing nothing makes for a very smirk-y smile, however. “You work at the hospital?” Karen suggests, gesturing.
How did you– “Oh, the scrubs.” Ann sighs. “Yep, I’m a nurse. But don’t have a seizure or anything. I’m off duty and totally drunk.” She meant “kind of” drunk. She was only kind of drunk, right? It was hard to tell. She was looking at someone who looked just like her. Who was looking at her too.
“Look,” Karen says, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs. “I’m going to be gone tomorrow. And you’re right, I’m totally drunk.” She plays with the condensation on her glass, tapping three times with her nail. Suddenly, Karen turns to face Ann head-on. “I’ve never kissed a girl before, let alone one who looks like me, but I figure someplace I’m never going to be again, in a gay bar, with someone who probably knows what I like…” She swallows, presses her lips together. “Now’s the time, right?”
“It’s weird though, right? Wanting to kiss someone who looks just like you?” Ann does not confirm nor deny this particular wanting. “I mean, it’s like kissing yourself. Isn’t it?” Never mind that Karen is a girl and Ann hasn’t kissed a girl since that week in college where she was pretty sure she was gay but was just angry at her boyfriend.
“Nothing wrong with kissing yourself.” Karen shrugs, far too calm. “Medically, right? Nothing wrong with it.”
“Well, no. Not… technically.” Ann has worked a crease into her scrubs the way she’s clenching and unclenching her fingers. “But not here, okay? There’s no way I’ll be able to explain this to Leslie.”
Karen smiles, some private amusement. “I hear the bathrooms are pretty useful for a hook up.” She hops to her feet, holds up a finger and finishes off her drink with impressive speed. “Lead the way?” Her fingertips are cold on Ann’s back, but that doesn’t explain the shiver that hits her, stepping past men she’s seen on multiple occasions, usually cheering and buying her drinks; “For Leslie’s partner in crime!” And okay, she’s really, really, not gay, right, and this is just a one time thing, obviously. A flash in the pan. Some sort of star alignment. Like an eclipse.
The door barely closes behind them when Ann is backed against the wall and this whimpering noise she had no idea she was capable of comes out of her lips. Karen smiles, her eyes revealing that she’s nervous too. “Totally not weird,” Ann whispers, arching herself against the woman shaped just like her, turning her head for a kiss.
It doesn’t feel weird at all.
It feels like — “Oh, fuck,” — hands on her lower back, tugging her, and her hands in Karen’s hair, pressing fingertips to her skull, and it feels like heartbeats skipped when they go too long between gasping breaths. Ann hisses “More,” and Karen dives right in, pants undone, fingers sliding under the waistband of her panties. Her fingers shake as Ann undoes Karen’s business jacket, the blouse underneath smooth and cool and revealing breasts that are a mirror to her own. Bit racy to skip a bra for work, she starts to think, but then Karen’s mouth is on her neck, and “God, yes,” this is just how she — Ann sucks in a breath and slides her thumb across Karen’s right nipple, struggling to keep a steady hand even as she bucks against Karen’s.
Karen’s fingers curl inside her and Ann’s body shakes, a whisper slipping past her lips, her hands around Karen’s neck, pulling herself up, holding herself still. “I won’t tell if you won’t,” Karen says, biting down on Ann’s earlobe, tugging gently. “I’ve got no one to tell.”
She’ll be gone in the morning, Ann thinks, but whimpers again not ready to give this up, her breath finally catching up with her. “Your turn, all right?” She turns them around, drags a finger along Karen’s jaw. Smiling, tentatively.
–
“Ann, you will never guess what just happened. Okay, I’ll tell you. This woman came by City Hall and I swear to God, Ann, I thought it was you, but then your — her — hair was long and she was wearing a suit and you never wear suits, so I was like, A gap in the time-space continuum! but it turns out that she’s from Indianapolis and just wanted to sell us paper, and not tear apart space and time. It was crazy. She was really nice.”
