(no subject)
Here's my entry for the Donna leg of this ficathon. Many thanks to the wonderful 
celbalrai for being a short-notice beta.
For: fluffybkitty
Character you'd like paired with Donna: C.J.
2 or 3 elements you'd like included in the story: A night-flight on Airforce 1, set pre-Season 6.
2 elements you *don't* want in the story: Anything goes!
Rating Preference (if any): Anything goes!
There was a shudder across the plane as Air Force One hit a touch of turbulence. Barely noticing, C.J. strained to keep her eyes open and fixed on the briefing books in her lap. All she wanted to do was shift her seat into the ‘recline’ position and sleep till they reached whatever destination was next on the campaign trail, but she had to keep this stuff fresh in her head for the spin tomorrow - the President had four press conferences, plus she had to brief the press herself on a couple of new initiatives.
As the type started to blur once more she let out a snarl of exasperation. Pulling off her glasses, she threw them down on the pages before her and closed her eyes, tipping her head back onto the head-rest. She breathed heavily, fighting back the tears of exhaustion. It didn’t work, as a single salty bead began to trail across her cheek.
When the warmth of fingers swept it away softly, C.J. startled and sat up, heart racing.
“Hey, it’s just me. How’re you doing?’ The delicacy of Donna’s tone was comforting, and C.J. smiled weakly as the blonde slid into the seat beside her.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re a lousy liar, C.J..” This elicited a small, fleeting smile across the lips of the Press Secretary,. “No, I’m not.”
“Not to other people…”
Their eyes met for the first time since Donna had sat down, and C.J. felt the blood rush to her cheeks. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t focus, I can’t think. I’m exhausted - it never wore me down like this last time…”
“You’re living on coffee and air, of course you’re bound to hit a wall.” In truth, Donna knew that it wasn’t just this - she could see it in C.J.’s eyes.
“I’m not… I mean… I’ll get past it.”
Donna closed her hand over C.J.’s and squeezed it gently.
“Take a nap - I promise I’ll wake you in an hour or so.” It was strange to have their roles reversed like this. Donna was usually the one that was cared for, and C.J. did the caring. That was just how they worked, and C.J. didn’t mind it. Now she felt vulnerable, more so under those sea-green eyes - she’d never liked that feeling.
“Donna, I can’t, I have to go over all this stuff for tomorrow…” She snapped, and, pulling her hand from under Donna’s, picked up her glasses and set about focusing on the papers. In moments she was closed off from the world and Donna once again.
The blonde winced at the clear dismissal like she’d been slapped in the face. Rising from her seat, she straightened her skirt and sighed lightly.
“I’ll leave you alone.”
Before C.J. could look up from the papers Donna was long gone, striding up the plane to the ladies bathroom. She passed a few staffers on her way, even Josh, but made eye contact with none. Once she’d reached her destination she locked the door behind her and sat down on the closed toilet lid.
She didn’t cry. That surprised her. She was upset, and she’d expected to just sit down and the tears to come, but they never did. She just stared at herself in the tiny mirror without really seeing, thoughts streaming through her mind. Maybe C.J. didn’t feel the same way as she did. Maybe all this time she’d been living under a misapprehension. It was true that they’d never gone beyond the touches and furtive glances but even those small things felt like an inferno underneath her skin, and before tonight she had been sure that there was more than friendship on both sides. Now… well, now she knew otherwise.
Still in her seat, C.J. let out a ragged breath and gathered up the papers and books, placing them untidily on the seat beside her. There was no way she could concentrate now. Donna was the one thing that felt truly tangible in her life, and now she’d pushed her away.
That’s how it always happened. She’d let someone in until she realised just how close they’d gotten, then she’d get scared and push them away - always harder than she ever meant to. For a few long moments she stared out of the tiny oval window into the blackish-blue of the late night sky. She could see the darker shapes of clouds like zeppelins moving across the moon, and the stars flickering almost imperceptibly. It was beautiful, a whole world away from the rigours of D.C. life, and she wanted to be able to share it with someone, someone who mattered. Simply, there was one person who she wanted by her side.
She raised herself tiredly from the seat and headed in the same direction that Donna had disappeared in, almost slamming into Josh without noticing. He put out his arms to steady her, and she thanked him with a smile.
“Hey, what’s up?” Josh was eyeing her, and something in his look and the softness of his tone suggested he already knew. As her own eyes widened at the realisation he was more perceptive than she’d ever given him credit for, he smiled lightly.
“Nothing, Joshua. Have you got the schedule all worked out for tomorrow?” She resorted to small-talk in an attempt to disguise her fluster.
“Yeah, he’s going to spend half an hour talking to teachers in the school. Toby’s writing some remarks.”
“Good.” She stared at the floor rather conspicuously, but Josh let it slide. “Listen, have you seen -”
“- Last time I saw her, she was headed for the ladies.”
“Thank you.” The sincerity in C.J.’s tone moved him, and he nodded gently as she passed him and headed off.
Donna started at the light knock on the bathroom door. “Just a second.” She answered, standing and taking a couple of deep breaths.
“It’s me.” C.J.’s voice carried easily through the paper-thin door, and Donna rubbed her face in frustration. “Can I… come in?”
Donna clicked the lock open and allowed C.J. to step inside. There was only a little more space than in ordinary aeroplane bathrooms, and C.J. had difficulty not looming over her.
“I’m sorry about before. I didn’t mean to push you away.”
“It’s okay, C.J.. Don’t worry about it. We’re okay.” Their eyes didn’t meet. She sat down once more; C.J. found it gave them both a little extra space.
“You’re a bad liar too, Donnatella.” C.J. knelt in front of the blonde, which was no easy feat in the cramped compartment. Now they were eye to eye, C.J. took Donna’s hands in hers. “Look, I…”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child, C.J., I understand.” As the words rolled off a sharp tongue, Donna started to feel the anger boiling inside her. The claustrophobic atmosphere seemed to make everything fold in and she felt cornered.
“I don’t mean to, but I don’t think you do understand.” C.J. began to try and explain, but was cut off with a hiss.
“Shut up.” There was venom in that tone, but C.J. only saw regret in her eyes, and she didn’t back off, nor did she release her hands. After a moment, Donna’s tone was softer and she started to talk. “Please, shut up. You’ve seen the way I look at you, and I always thought you looked at me that way too. I… guess I was wrong. It’s as simple as that.” There was an almost tactile frustration in the air.
C.J. stared at the resigned woman before her, and then at the floor between them. Then she stood up, gently, and turned her back to Donna. For what seemed like an eternity she said nothing, and the only sounds were the quiet whooshing of the engines and the almost laboured breaths of the woman before her. It became so eerie that C.J.’s eventual whisper made her shudder. “You weren’t wrong.”
“I know.”
“And it’s never going to be simple.”
“I know that too.”
“I want to try, though. Will you let me?” Still C.J. wasn’t looking at Donna, but at her own reflection. The question itself wasn’t entirely directed at her, either.
After what seemed to C.J. to be some of the longest seconds of her life, Donna stood with measured control and allowed her body to rest gently against C.J.’s back. She then slid lithe, tentative arms around the waist of the taller woman. This contact made them both smile softly, and C.J. rested her own hand on Donna’s, intertwining its fingers with her own. This thing they had wasn’t ordinary, and she’d never let it be anything other than astonishing.
celbalrai for being a short-notice beta.
For: fluffybkitty
Character you'd like paired with Donna: C.J.
2 or 3 elements you'd like included in the story: A night-flight on Airforce 1, set pre-Season 6.
2 elements you *don't* want in the story: Anything goes!
Rating Preference (if any): Anything goes!
There was a shudder across the plane as Air Force One hit a touch of turbulence. Barely noticing, C.J. strained to keep her eyes open and fixed on the briefing books in her lap. All she wanted to do was shift her seat into the ‘recline’ position and sleep till they reached whatever destination was next on the campaign trail, but she had to keep this stuff fresh in her head for the spin tomorrow - the President had four press conferences, plus she had to brief the press herself on a couple of new initiatives.
As the type started to blur once more she let out a snarl of exasperation. Pulling off her glasses, she threw them down on the pages before her and closed her eyes, tipping her head back onto the head-rest. She breathed heavily, fighting back the tears of exhaustion. It didn’t work, as a single salty bead began to trail across her cheek.
When the warmth of fingers swept it away softly, C.J. startled and sat up, heart racing.
“Hey, it’s just me. How’re you doing?’ The delicacy of Donna’s tone was comforting, and C.J. smiled weakly as the blonde slid into the seat beside her.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re a lousy liar, C.J..” This elicited a small, fleeting smile across the lips of the Press Secretary,. “No, I’m not.”
“Not to other people…”
Their eyes met for the first time since Donna had sat down, and C.J. felt the blood rush to her cheeks. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t focus, I can’t think. I’m exhausted - it never wore me down like this last time…”
“You’re living on coffee and air, of course you’re bound to hit a wall.” In truth, Donna knew that it wasn’t just this - she could see it in C.J.’s eyes.
“I’m not… I mean… I’ll get past it.”
Donna closed her hand over C.J.’s and squeezed it gently.
“Take a nap - I promise I’ll wake you in an hour or so.” It was strange to have their roles reversed like this. Donna was usually the one that was cared for, and C.J. did the caring. That was just how they worked, and C.J. didn’t mind it. Now she felt vulnerable, more so under those sea-green eyes - she’d never liked that feeling.
“Donna, I can’t, I have to go over all this stuff for tomorrow…” She snapped, and, pulling her hand from under Donna’s, picked up her glasses and set about focusing on the papers. In moments she was closed off from the world and Donna once again.
The blonde winced at the clear dismissal like she’d been slapped in the face. Rising from her seat, she straightened her skirt and sighed lightly.
“I’ll leave you alone.”
Before C.J. could look up from the papers Donna was long gone, striding up the plane to the ladies bathroom. She passed a few staffers on her way, even Josh, but made eye contact with none. Once she’d reached her destination she locked the door behind her and sat down on the closed toilet lid.
She didn’t cry. That surprised her. She was upset, and she’d expected to just sit down and the tears to come, but they never did. She just stared at herself in the tiny mirror without really seeing, thoughts streaming through her mind. Maybe C.J. didn’t feel the same way as she did. Maybe all this time she’d been living under a misapprehension. It was true that they’d never gone beyond the touches and furtive glances but even those small things felt like an inferno underneath her skin, and before tonight she had been sure that there was more than friendship on both sides. Now… well, now she knew otherwise.
Still in her seat, C.J. let out a ragged breath and gathered up the papers and books, placing them untidily on the seat beside her. There was no way she could concentrate now. Donna was the one thing that felt truly tangible in her life, and now she’d pushed her away.
That’s how it always happened. She’d let someone in until she realised just how close they’d gotten, then she’d get scared and push them away - always harder than she ever meant to. For a few long moments she stared out of the tiny oval window into the blackish-blue of the late night sky. She could see the darker shapes of clouds like zeppelins moving across the moon, and the stars flickering almost imperceptibly. It was beautiful, a whole world away from the rigours of D.C. life, and she wanted to be able to share it with someone, someone who mattered. Simply, there was one person who she wanted by her side.
She raised herself tiredly from the seat and headed in the same direction that Donna had disappeared in, almost slamming into Josh without noticing. He put out his arms to steady her, and she thanked him with a smile.
“Hey, what’s up?” Josh was eyeing her, and something in his look and the softness of his tone suggested he already knew. As her own eyes widened at the realisation he was more perceptive than she’d ever given him credit for, he smiled lightly.
“Nothing, Joshua. Have you got the schedule all worked out for tomorrow?” She resorted to small-talk in an attempt to disguise her fluster.
“Yeah, he’s going to spend half an hour talking to teachers in the school. Toby’s writing some remarks.”
“Good.” She stared at the floor rather conspicuously, but Josh let it slide. “Listen, have you seen -”
“- Last time I saw her, she was headed for the ladies.”
“Thank you.” The sincerity in C.J.’s tone moved him, and he nodded gently as she passed him and headed off.
Donna started at the light knock on the bathroom door. “Just a second.” She answered, standing and taking a couple of deep breaths.
“It’s me.” C.J.’s voice carried easily through the paper-thin door, and Donna rubbed her face in frustration. “Can I… come in?”
Donna clicked the lock open and allowed C.J. to step inside. There was only a little more space than in ordinary aeroplane bathrooms, and C.J. had difficulty not looming over her.
“I’m sorry about before. I didn’t mean to push you away.”
“It’s okay, C.J.. Don’t worry about it. We’re okay.” Their eyes didn’t meet. She sat down once more; C.J. found it gave them both a little extra space.
“You’re a bad liar too, Donnatella.” C.J. knelt in front of the blonde, which was no easy feat in the cramped compartment. Now they were eye to eye, C.J. took Donna’s hands in hers. “Look, I…”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child, C.J., I understand.” As the words rolled off a sharp tongue, Donna started to feel the anger boiling inside her. The claustrophobic atmosphere seemed to make everything fold in and she felt cornered.
“I don’t mean to, but I don’t think you do understand.” C.J. began to try and explain, but was cut off with a hiss.
“Shut up.” There was venom in that tone, but C.J. only saw regret in her eyes, and she didn’t back off, nor did she release her hands. After a moment, Donna’s tone was softer and she started to talk. “Please, shut up. You’ve seen the way I look at you, and I always thought you looked at me that way too. I… guess I was wrong. It’s as simple as that.” There was an almost tactile frustration in the air.
C.J. stared at the resigned woman before her, and then at the floor between them. Then she stood up, gently, and turned her back to Donna. For what seemed like an eternity she said nothing, and the only sounds were the quiet whooshing of the engines and the almost laboured breaths of the woman before her. It became so eerie that C.J.’s eventual whisper made her shudder. “You weren’t wrong.”
“I know.”
“And it’s never going to be simple.”
“I know that too.”
“I want to try, though. Will you let me?” Still C.J. wasn’t looking at Donna, but at her own reflection. The question itself wasn’t entirely directed at her, either.
After what seemed to C.J. to be some of the longest seconds of her life, Donna stood with measured control and allowed her body to rest gently against C.J.’s back. She then slid lithe, tentative arms around the waist of the taller woman. This contact made them both smile softly, and C.J. rested her own hand on Donna’s, intertwining its fingers with her own. This thing they had wasn’t ordinary, and she’d never let it be anything other than astonishing.