Fic: A Brief Rumination on Broken Promises
Title: A Brief Rumination on Broken Promises
Author: greta_garbo
Fandom: The Newsroom
Pairing: Don/Sloan
Rating: PG
Word Count: 711
Spoilers: General season one, but specific ones for 5/1
Disclaimers: It's not mine.... until I decide to 50 Shades of Grey it.
Summary: Sloan breaks a promise to herself.
Notes: I wasn't going to write anything else while I was working on a series. I was so adamant about it. And then I got this in my head and I couldn't get it out until I wrote it, so here it is.
Sloan had promised herself she was never going to be this person.
She’d had friends who had fallen for married men, men with girlfriends, men who were unavailable, who would lead to inevitable heartbreak, tears, and a personal oath that it would never happen again.
Until, of course, it happened again.
And Sloan had sworn she’d never do that to herself.
It’s that promise that makes the twinge of jealousy she feels right now so annoying.
Surprise, not annoyance, had been the reaction two weeks ago when she’d first felt the stab in her heart and stomach. MacKenzie had been talking about something, Sloan can’t remember what now, and she’d looked to her left absentmindedly, stopping when she saw Maggie and Don, cuddled together in a booth, arms locked around each other, smiling at a private joke. The quick and unexpected punch of emotion, like someone was squeezing her heart tightly, lasted for only a quick moment, but it had taken her breath away and brought tears to her eyes. Stopping mid-whatever the hell she was talking about, Kenzie had looked at her with concern and asked if she was alright.
“Allergies,” Sloan had explained away weakly, finishing her glass of wine quickly and ordering another one.
Dismissing it as a fluke, or perhaps a misinterpreted sign of oncoming illness, Sloan had ignored the whatever-it-was feeling and had soon convinced herself she’d imagined it. She went back to happily liking, but being generally irritated by Don.
Until she wasn’t.
Sloan couldn’t even hear the words that Don had been saying to the distraught guest who had broken down during a pre-taping. But she watched from far away while Don talk the woman’s hands and crouched in front of her, speaking softly and gently while Elliot sat nearby, looking supportive but uncomfortable. After several minutes, Don rose and turned, his eyes locking with Sloan’s.
The feeling that flooded through her was unexpected but not unfamiliar. It was a lot like what she’d felt watching Don tell the pilots of the plane they were stuck on that Navy SEALs had killed Osama Bin Laden. And it was completely different from, yet somehow exactly the same as, the hostile flash she’d felt in the bar. Once again she felt short of breath, not as though she’d been punched, but rather like she’d just experienced something exhilarating, like riding a roller coaster or laughing at a great joke. Her heart clenched and then beat out a rapid rhythm against her ribs as Don’s eyes stayed on her, and she had to grip her folders tighter to stop her hands from trembling.
Don watched her with wide eyes, looking like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. But when her lips curved into a soft smile, so did his, as his frame relaxed in relief. He looked down briefly, then back to Sloan, his smile growing wider and more genuine before he turned to go back to the control room. Sloan’s heart clenched once more as she watched him go. Leaving herself, she allowed herself to sink into this new feeling and roll around in it for awhile, enjoying her shaking hands and sweating palms.
And then she saw Maggie.
So now Sloan sits at the bar, long after Kenzie has gone, and watches Don and Maggie, while trying to look like she’s not watching Don and Maggie, the sharp, quick pain now a consistent ache, as though a hand is lightly squeezing her heart between each beat, like something is settling heavily on top of her stomach. As she finishes off her drink, she feels someone settling into the seat beside her. It’s Jim, and when she looks over at him he’s looking at the same spot she was only seconds before. After a few moments he turns to her and smiles a sad, knowing smile, and says, “Let me buy you a drink.”
She lets him.
The drink is weak and doesn’t do much in the way of numbing the ever-present ache in her chest, but she figures she deserves that.
She’d sworn to herself.
Now the heartbreak is inevitable.
THE END
Author: greta_garbo
Fandom: The Newsroom
Pairing: Don/Sloan
Rating: PG
Word Count: 711
Spoilers: General season one, but specific ones for 5/1
Disclaimers: It's not mine.... until I decide to 50 Shades of Grey it.
Summary: Sloan breaks a promise to herself.
Notes: I wasn't going to write anything else while I was working on a series. I was so adamant about it. And then I got this in my head and I couldn't get it out until I wrote it, so here it is.
Sloan had promised herself she was never going to be this person.
She’d had friends who had fallen for married men, men with girlfriends, men who were unavailable, who would lead to inevitable heartbreak, tears, and a personal oath that it would never happen again.
Until, of course, it happened again.
And Sloan had sworn she’d never do that to herself.
It’s that promise that makes the twinge of jealousy she feels right now so annoying.
Surprise, not annoyance, had been the reaction two weeks ago when she’d first felt the stab in her heart and stomach. MacKenzie had been talking about something, Sloan can’t remember what now, and she’d looked to her left absentmindedly, stopping when she saw Maggie and Don, cuddled together in a booth, arms locked around each other, smiling at a private joke. The quick and unexpected punch of emotion, like someone was squeezing her heart tightly, lasted for only a quick moment, but it had taken her breath away and brought tears to her eyes. Stopping mid-whatever the hell she was talking about, Kenzie had looked at her with concern and asked if she was alright.
“Allergies,” Sloan had explained away weakly, finishing her glass of wine quickly and ordering another one.
Dismissing it as a fluke, or perhaps a misinterpreted sign of oncoming illness, Sloan had ignored the whatever-it-was feeling and had soon convinced herself she’d imagined it. She went back to happily liking, but being generally irritated by Don.
Until she wasn’t.
Sloan couldn’t even hear the words that Don had been saying to the distraught guest who had broken down during a pre-taping. But she watched from far away while Don talk the woman’s hands and crouched in front of her, speaking softly and gently while Elliot sat nearby, looking supportive but uncomfortable. After several minutes, Don rose and turned, his eyes locking with Sloan’s.
The feeling that flooded through her was unexpected but not unfamiliar. It was a lot like what she’d felt watching Don tell the pilots of the plane they were stuck on that Navy SEALs had killed Osama Bin Laden. And it was completely different from, yet somehow exactly the same as, the hostile flash she’d felt in the bar. Once again she felt short of breath, not as though she’d been punched, but rather like she’d just experienced something exhilarating, like riding a roller coaster or laughing at a great joke. Her heart clenched and then beat out a rapid rhythm against her ribs as Don’s eyes stayed on her, and she had to grip her folders tighter to stop her hands from trembling.
Don watched her with wide eyes, looking like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. But when her lips curved into a soft smile, so did his, as his frame relaxed in relief. He looked down briefly, then back to Sloan, his smile growing wider and more genuine before he turned to go back to the control room. Sloan’s heart clenched once more as she watched him go. Leaving herself, she allowed herself to sink into this new feeling and roll around in it for awhile, enjoying her shaking hands and sweating palms.
And then she saw Maggie.
So now Sloan sits at the bar, long after Kenzie has gone, and watches Don and Maggie, while trying to look like she’s not watching Don and Maggie, the sharp, quick pain now a consistent ache, as though a hand is lightly squeezing her heart between each beat, like something is settling heavily on top of her stomach. As she finishes off her drink, she feels someone settling into the seat beside her. It’s Jim, and when she looks over at him he’s looking at the same spot she was only seconds before. After a few moments he turns to her and smiles a sad, knowing smile, and says, “Let me buy you a drink.”
She lets him.
The drink is weak and doesn’t do much in the way of numbing the ever-present ache in her chest, but she figures she deserves that.
She’d sworn to herself.
Now the heartbreak is inevitable.
THE END