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OK, so I keep reading the comments about President Bush deliberately putting his father and Bill Clinton in situations which in slashfic are cliched set-ups for confessions of love or rampant sex, and I'm trying to identify them all for my own satisfaction. The one I have so far:On Thursday night in Houston, Mr. Bush boarded an official blue-and-
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Bill sighed as he yanked off his reading glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. He and his travelling companion, after exchanging the requisite niceties, had buried themselves in the paperwork that had come aboard with them and now reposed, in neatly stacked boxes (how had he ever imagined that being an ex-President would be less work?), in the lockers above their respective seats. By mutual consent -- or so it seemed -- they had avoided discussing the question that had hovered in the air since they first emplaned for this chartered overnight flight. For while the plane was, as promised, equipped with comfortable sleeping facilities befitting a former President of the United States -- or possibly even a former POTUS with spouse -- it was certainly not equipped to sleep two such dignitaries ("one POTUS, two POTI," thought Bill idiotically and suppressed a grin at his own fatigue-fogged wit) in equal comfort. One of them would have to sleep, cramp-inducingly, in the chair he currently occupied, and given who currently owned all three branches of government, Bill was pretty sure he knew which one of them it would be. Unless --
-- and it was that "Unless" that was making Bill feel uncomfortably warm under his impeccably pressed Armani shirt just now. He slumped further down in his seat and hoped Bush One couldn't see him blushing. God, he must even tireder than he though. He was pretty sure he shouldn't even be thinking such things -- and yet.... Shaking his head impatiently, he risked a covert glance across at his predecessor -- and found his gaze locked and held by a pair of mesmerizing [COLOR???] eyes. The 41st president was looking at him with a most peculiar expression on his face.
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TO BE CONTINUED (or then again, maybe not)
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