Dressed In Cobras
Title: Dressed In Cobras
Fandom: The West Wing
Pairing(s): Amy/Donna
Word Count: 400
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "I thought I saw a snake."
Notes: Written for slashthedrabble prompt "snake."
"Is that - aah!" Startled by her own shriek, Donna jumps closer to Amy; her hand brushes Amy's hip, and suddenly her nerves are tingling for a completely different reason.
"What?" Amy's looking around; only half interested, Donna thinks, in seeing whatever it was that made her scream, the other half still amused as she catalogues Donna's reaction.
"There was - I thought I saw a snake." She bites her lip, aware that it sounds sillier out loud than it had in her head a moment ago. Amy doesn't seem to mind.
"It's the White House gardens," she says instead, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "I don't think they allow snakes in here."
A sudden image of the Secret Service shooting at reptilian threats makes Donna glad she's still biting her lip. Amy takes her hand, pulling her closer behind the bushes, and the image fades.
"You don't think -"
But then Amy's lips are on hers, soft and silencing, and Donna doesn't think anything; she raises her free hand, slides it around Amy's neck, and closes her eyes against the late morning sunlight. She can feel every inch of Amy's body pressed against hers, Amy's hands sliding insistently under the fabric of her shirt, and she barely notices the way they sort of tumble sideways, first falling against the bushes, and then landing, finally, in a heap on the grass. Amy's murmuring something in her ear, and Donna thinks it might be no snakes, but it's hard to make out, and she doesn't really care. She might care, she thinks, if the Secret Service were to come across them like this, but barring that, all she really cares about is Amy's hands, Amy's lips, the way she arches up -
-
She's sitting at her desk, later, when Josh plucks something out of her hair, and he hands her the leaf with raised eyebrows. She doesn't blush, not even as she thinks of Amy, but she doesn't quite meet his eyes, either.
"Have fun at lunch?" he asks, and he doesn't know, can't know; she shrugs noncommittally, but she can feel the smile that threatens to surface.
"I did." And he doesn't ask about Amy's sudden back flip on 437 as she hands him the memo, doesn't question the new line item that's been added, but she doesn't tell him where she's going out to dinner tonight, just in case.
Fandom: The West Wing
Pairing(s): Amy/Donna
Word Count: 400
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "I thought I saw a snake."
Notes: Written for slashthedrabble prompt "snake."
"Is that - aah!" Startled by her own shriek, Donna jumps closer to Amy; her hand brushes Amy's hip, and suddenly her nerves are tingling for a completely different reason.
"What?" Amy's looking around; only half interested, Donna thinks, in seeing whatever it was that made her scream, the other half still amused as she catalogues Donna's reaction.
"There was - I thought I saw a snake." She bites her lip, aware that it sounds sillier out loud than it had in her head a moment ago. Amy doesn't seem to mind.
"It's the White House gardens," she says instead, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "I don't think they allow snakes in here."
A sudden image of the Secret Service shooting at reptilian threats makes Donna glad she's still biting her lip. Amy takes her hand, pulling her closer behind the bushes, and the image fades.
"You don't think -"
But then Amy's lips are on hers, soft and silencing, and Donna doesn't think anything; she raises her free hand, slides it around Amy's neck, and closes her eyes against the late morning sunlight. She can feel every inch of Amy's body pressed against hers, Amy's hands sliding insistently under the fabric of her shirt, and she barely notices the way they sort of tumble sideways, first falling against the bushes, and then landing, finally, in a heap on the grass. Amy's murmuring something in her ear, and Donna thinks it might be no snakes, but it's hard to make out, and she doesn't really care. She might care, she thinks, if the Secret Service were to come across them like this, but barring that, all she really cares about is Amy's hands, Amy's lips, the way she arches up -
-
She's sitting at her desk, later, when Josh plucks something out of her hair, and he hands her the leaf with raised eyebrows. She doesn't blush, not even as she thinks of Amy, but she doesn't quite meet his eyes, either.
"Have fun at lunch?" he asks, and he doesn't know, can't know; she shrugs noncommittally, but she can feel the smile that threatens to surface.
"I did." And he doesn't ask about Amy's sudden back flip on 437 as she hands him the memo, doesn't question the new line item that's been added, but she doesn't tell him where she's going out to dinner tonight, just in case.