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Oh dear Lord, she was trotting. Over to Diane's car, clutching a Tupperware (with a pink bow on it), face split in a grin.
Diane stepped forward to meet Sarah before she took a header onto the parking lot asphalt. Probably be fine. Her heels were still sensible pumps, and she moved in them with far more familiarity than Diane generally did. Sarah ate up the distance between them fairly quickly, really.
Couldn't help but grin at that, right? What with the eager bouncing step, and everything. "Morning."
"Hi! I'm so glad I caught you! Didn't want to lug these around inside." Sarah hefted the Tupperware, grin screwing up in good humor. "Everybody would want some, and I could only bake-- you have a daughter, right? They're cookies. I thought you guys might want some. I made too many."
"But not enough for everyone."
"Oh. No. Should I have--"
"No. Trust me, you should not have. They're ungrateful animals. They'd follow you like junkyard dogs looking for more every day. Especially if they're good. Which I'm sure they are."
Sarah's grin was smaller, but still bright. "Did you not want them then?"
"Oh, no. I definitely do." Diane reached out, taking the --whoa, surprisingly full-- container easily. "That part was a great idea. I will happily take them off your hands."
"Good."
"Thank-you, Sarah."
Sarah nodded.
And waited, while Diane stowed the cookies in her car, because she had not been lying about her coworkers being locusts. Especially Tim. Between the cookies and the pretty woman, Tim would've been haunting the breakroom, and Glynn's office trying to sweetalk her into making more, all day.
Didn't have to wait, but did, falling right into step beside Diane to proceed into the prison.
She still smelled like cookies.
***
End