'dancing in the rain', the west wing, jed/abbey
Title: Under The Rain
Fandom: The West Wing
Pairing: Jed/Abbey
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Summary/notes: Written for the West Wing Drabble Meme. Prompt: jed/abbey, dancing under the rain.
Abbey is pretty sure everyone has those memories, the ones you keep in your head like photographs in a box, carefully collected and lovingly stored, taken out occasionally so you can run your fingertips over the glossy paper and think this was a time in my life, and it was good. Nearly all of hers involve the children in some way, although there's a couple from just after college, when she and Jed were young and full of nothing except ambition and love for each other. There's the first (and last) time she met her maternal grandmother: the feel of her old hands, and the taste of the peppermint under her tongue. There's a holiday she took with her parents when she was ten. And there's the time when it rained.
.
"Did you know the average yearly rainfall in New Hampshire is thirty six point five inches?"
Abbey pulls her wrap tighter around her shoulders against the evening chill and doesn't look over at her husband.
"No, Jed, I did not."
"Compared to fifty nine inches in Louisiana and a mere seven inches in Arizona."
"That's fascinating, Jed."
"I'm just saying, maybe I should be running for governor of Arizona instead."
"Maybe you should."
"Hmm. Remind me, Abigail my darling, why exactly are we standing up here when we could be in the car by now?"
"I'm waiting for the rain to stop."
"It's been raining for three hours."
"It'll stop soon."
Jed turns a little, so he's facing her. He reaches out to take her hands in his.
"Abigail. Abbey. Light of my life, queen of my heart. You have many wonderful and, let us not forget, exciting talents, but as much as I would like it, predicting the weather is not one of them."
Abbey looks at him.
"I don't want to get my dress wet."
Jed makes a disapproving sound.
"Jed -- "
"Abbey, it's only a dress."
"I paid three hundred dollars for this dress!"
"You paid three hundred dollars for one dress?"
"Don't you start lecturing me about -- "
"Abbey. Abbey. I'm just.. don't you remember those long walks we used to take?"
"I wasn't wearing a three hundred dollar dress during those walks, Jed."
"I'm just trying to conjure some romantic feeling -- "
"Are you implying that just because I don't want to get my dress wet, I'm not romantic?"
"No, I'm just -- "
"I'm more romantic than you'll ever be, Josiah Edward Bartlet! I positively bleed romance."
"Well, I -- "
"Come on."
Abbey closes her hand around his and starts down the steps of the playhouse. Her wrap falls down a little and cold rain patters against the bare skin of her shoulders, runs down the curve of her back.
"What are we doing?" Jed has to raise his voice over the sound of falling water.
"Being romantic!" Abbey shouts back.
They reach the bottom of the steps, but Abbey keeps going until she's standing in the middle of the broad paved area between the playhouse and the road. She turns around.
"Dance with me," she commands, blinking raindrops out of her eyes. Jed frowns at her, as if trying to work out if he's heard her correctly.
"Dance with you?"
Abbey reaches out to put his hand on her hip, spreading his fingers beneath hers. Jed looks down his hand, then back up at her face. He laughs.
"Abbey -- "
She keeps her hand on his. Finds his gaze and holds it.
"Jed. Dance with me."
He looks at her for a moment, considering.
"Who am I to turn down a beautiful woman?"
He takes her other hand in his, brings her body close. He moves automatically into a swaying waltz step, which Abbey, thinking more of her heels than her dress at this point, corrects until they're simply rotating on the spot. Jed's body is warm and solid against hers. His thumb strokes her index finger. He looks into her eyes and smiles.
"You are a strange and wonderous woman, Abigail."
Abbey raises an eyebrow.
"Don't you mean romantic?"
Jed leans forward and kisses her neck, his lips a welcome heat after the rain's chill. Abbey sighs, and lets her head fall against his shoulder. They're both soaked to the skin and she thinks they'll probably spend next week paying for it in headcolds, but right now, she couldn't care less.
"You are a strange, romantic and wonderous woman, Abigail."
Abbey smiles, closing her eyes.
"Don't you know it."
Fandom: The West Wing
Pairing: Jed/Abbey
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Summary/notes: Written for the West Wing Drabble Meme. Prompt: jed/abbey, dancing under the rain.
Abbey is pretty sure everyone has those memories, the ones you keep in your head like photographs in a box, carefully collected and lovingly stored, taken out occasionally so you can run your fingertips over the glossy paper and think this was a time in my life, and it was good. Nearly all of hers involve the children in some way, although there's a couple from just after college, when she and Jed were young and full of nothing except ambition and love for each other. There's the first (and last) time she met her maternal grandmother: the feel of her old hands, and the taste of the peppermint under her tongue. There's a holiday she took with her parents when she was ten. And there's the time when it rained.
.
"Did you know the average yearly rainfall in New Hampshire is thirty six point five inches?"
Abbey pulls her wrap tighter around her shoulders against the evening chill and doesn't look over at her husband.
"No, Jed, I did not."
"Compared to fifty nine inches in Louisiana and a mere seven inches in Arizona."
"That's fascinating, Jed."
"I'm just saying, maybe I should be running for governor of Arizona instead."
"Maybe you should."
"Hmm. Remind me, Abigail my darling, why exactly are we standing up here when we could be in the car by now?"
"I'm waiting for the rain to stop."
"It's been raining for three hours."
"It'll stop soon."
Jed turns a little, so he's facing her. He reaches out to take her hands in his.
"Abigail. Abbey. Light of my life, queen of my heart. You have many wonderful and, let us not forget, exciting talents, but as much as I would like it, predicting the weather is not one of them."
Abbey looks at him.
"I don't want to get my dress wet."
Jed makes a disapproving sound.
"Jed -- "
"Abbey, it's only a dress."
"I paid three hundred dollars for this dress!"
"You paid three hundred dollars for one dress?"
"Don't you start lecturing me about -- "
"Abbey. Abbey. I'm just.. don't you remember those long walks we used to take?"
"I wasn't wearing a three hundred dollar dress during those walks, Jed."
"I'm just trying to conjure some romantic feeling -- "
"Are you implying that just because I don't want to get my dress wet, I'm not romantic?"
"No, I'm just -- "
"I'm more romantic than you'll ever be, Josiah Edward Bartlet! I positively bleed romance."
"Well, I -- "
"Come on."
Abbey closes her hand around his and starts down the steps of the playhouse. Her wrap falls down a little and cold rain patters against the bare skin of her shoulders, runs down the curve of her back.
"What are we doing?" Jed has to raise his voice over the sound of falling water.
"Being romantic!" Abbey shouts back.
They reach the bottom of the steps, but Abbey keeps going until she's standing in the middle of the broad paved area between the playhouse and the road. She turns around.
"Dance with me," she commands, blinking raindrops out of her eyes. Jed frowns at her, as if trying to work out if he's heard her correctly.
"Dance with you?"
Abbey reaches out to put his hand on her hip, spreading his fingers beneath hers. Jed looks down his hand, then back up at her face. He laughs.
"Abbey -- "
She keeps her hand on his. Finds his gaze and holds it.
"Jed. Dance with me."
He looks at her for a moment, considering.
"Who am I to turn down a beautiful woman?"
He takes her other hand in his, brings her body close. He moves automatically into a swaying waltz step, which Abbey, thinking more of her heels than her dress at this point, corrects until they're simply rotating on the spot. Jed's body is warm and solid against hers. His thumb strokes her index finger. He looks into her eyes and smiles.
"You are a strange and wonderous woman, Abigail."
Abbey raises an eyebrow.
"Don't you mean romantic?"
Jed leans forward and kisses her neck, his lips a welcome heat after the rain's chill. Abbey sighs, and lets her head fall against his shoulder. They're both soaked to the skin and she thinks they'll probably spend next week paying for it in headcolds, but right now, she couldn't care less.
"You are a strange, romantic and wonderous woman, Abigail."
Abbey smiles, closing her eyes.
"Don't you know it."