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This Candidate Clearly Supports WIP Amnesty, Jon.

Chapter Text

When Jon got back from the vending machine (which was now stocked solely with Doritos), he found that Stephanie had taken a call in the meantime. He tried to creep in quietly, at least until he spotted the look on her face.

"Steph? Who are you listening to?"

Stephanie huddled protectively against the cushions, eyes pained and frantic as they turned to him. Dropping the Doritos, Jon darted over to the armchair and leaned in, putting his ear to the iPhone until he caught the sound of heavy breathing.

He snatched the phone out of Stephanie's limp fingers. "Who the hell do you think you—?"

There was a cheerful bleep as the call winked off.

"Creep," hissed Jon, setting the phone down. "Steph, are you okay?"

Gulping, Stephanie shook her head. "D-don't worry about it."

"Listen, if you get another call like this, just hang up, okay? You don't have to sit through that."

Stephanie wrapped her arms around herself and didn't answer.

"Steph," urged Jon, resting his elbows on the arm of the chair and leaning towards her. "You do know you're allowed to hang up, right?"

"B-but I'm not," insisted Stephanie. "Because I...I asked for it."

If Jon never heard that particular phrase out of her mouth again, it would be too soon. "Don't say that. Just because you're beautiful and don't hide it, that doesn't give anyone license to—"

"Jon, stop it! I mean, I asked for it!"

The gears turning in Jon's head slammed to a stop.

"I know it's — wrong," faltered Stephanie, staring resolutely at her shoes. "But I have these — these fantasies — where I am that irresistible, where people can't control themselves — so they'll call, and I can't stop them, and — I've asked for that."

Slowly, rustily, several of the gears began to creak in the opposite direction. "It's a kink."

A nod.

"And...that guy I just yelled two had an arrangement?"

"W-well, no. But I've done it before, so...."