Author's note: Just some Scarecrow and Mrs. King drabbles I wrote for writing challenges. A drabble is a 100-word story, not including title and author's notes. Words in BOLD are the challenge words. 

Rites of Passage
Tap-tap-tap went the pencil on the desk. I glanced at the sheets of paper in front of me, accidentally kicking an umbrella belonging to a lady who sat next to me. I walked up front, handing the papers to a grouchily looking woman. Nervously waiting, I began to massage my temples.  

“Mr. King, you passed,” she said. “Please step into the frame.”

Yes, I had my learners permit! “Lee, can I drive home?” I asked excitedly.

He tossed me the keys to the Wagoneer. “I thought you might want to drive. Why do you think I drove your mom’s car?”
 
Blackmail
It was late. Only a handful of agents were left in the building. The room was dark. He thought they were safe. No interruptions tonight.

He pulled her close to him. His lips were upon hers. Soon their kisses become more demanding. He quickly removed his tie and shoes. She unbuttoned the top buttons from his shirt. Once she had that task completed, she kissed his exposed skin.

"Whatever were you thinking?" Lee shook his head, walking down the hallway. Who would have thought Beaman, and Roxanne, from accounting, would be making out in the copier room? "File under blackmail."

They Danced
(A Matthew and Jennie story)
They danced. His arms wrapped tightly around her, their hearts in perfect sync. They continued dancing even after the song ended. Looking into her eyes, he gently cupped her face, lightly kissing her lips. 

He loved her and had even considered proposing, but would that have been fair to her? He knew he was going back stateside and then maybe onto Japan or the South Pacific. Wherever he would be it would be far away from her, with only love and memories to comfort him.

If fate ever brings us together, he thought, next time we do it my way.

Anticipation
I saw her walk towards me. She was wearing a pair of faded denim jeans, a t-shirt, and boots. She looked at me with her big brown eyes and smiled—that smile she reserved for only me. Oh yeah, I knew what she wanted. She reached behind me, her long, lengthy fingers running down my back. Oh man, did this woman know how to turn me on. Electricity seemed to coarse right through me. Soon I was hot. I was scorching hot; glass steaming, damp from my own perspiration; I was percolating. I knew she would soon be enjoying me.

(The challenge was to write a story in the POV of a coffeepot)

Stuck
“Amanda Jean West.” Dotty glared at her daughter, shaking her head. “You really are a precocious child. However did you manage to put yourself in this situation?”

Amanda looked up awkwardly at her mother. Between the sobs and hiccups, she managed to choke out, “Pinto and I were just playing follow the leader. I thought there was enough room for me to get through, too.”

“Well, you’d guessed wrong.” She twisted Amanda’s head, trying to push it past the banister rails. “It’s stuck and I can’t get it out!”

Heading towards the bathroom, she thought, 'Maybe baby oil will work?'
 
Innocent
“Hello, Sir. Yes, it’s Amanda.”

“Germany? Yes, Germany is very lovely.”
 
“The exchange? The exchange—it was textbook.” 

“Why am I repeating everything you say with a question?” She didn’t have the heart to tell him, but knew he would believe her when she told him she was innocent. “Well, you see, Sir, I have a minor little problem.” She swallowed hard. “I’ve been arrested.” 

She held the phone away from her ear; she knew his blood was boiling. 

“I understand. Please send someone soon. I hate being behind bars in Germany,” she choked out. “I don’t even speak German.” 

Busted
“Hello, Mother,” Amanda called out.

Dotty entered the foyer, kissing her daughter on the cheek. "Evening, Amanda. Kurt's going to be here any minute. Do I look okay? Not too loud, right? I fear I look silly. Oh, the mail is on the table. It looks like you have jury duty," she rambled without stopping. After grabbing her coat and purse, she opened the door. "When I get back you and I need to talk, Missy. I'm just curious to why your jury summons is addressed to Amanda Stetson?" She shut the door, leaving a stunned Amanda. 

“Can I plead the fifth?”