Against All Odds Chapter 1: Coming Home
Title: Against All Odds
Fandom: The L word
Pairing: Bette/Tina
Rating: PG
Summary: Bette hates being away from Tina and Angelica, but this trip was vital to her career. What will Bette do when confronted with the fact that she may be separated from them forever.
Author's Notes: My first L Word Fanfic which has been put on hiatus due to my dis-interest in the L Word courtesy of the last inexplicably bad season.
The elegant, well manicured hand moved smoothly across the page, her gaze intense as she searched for that allusive yet vital piece of information. It was there, hidden behind fancy words, and drawn out language, the point that would make or break one of her students. Life was not easy being Dean Porter, especially when dealing with disappointed students.
Just when she was sure she had found it, an air stewardess rushed passed, knocking into every passenger as she went. Including the man sat next to Bette, who then proceeded to spill his coffee all over Bette, and all over the dissertation one student had spent months writing, and Bette had spent weeks looking over.
“Fuck.” The word came naturally to her as she sprung into action, along with the man who had spilt his coffee. His apologies were many, and he would continue to utter them even after Bette had told him that it was not his fault, in a cool tone that masked her anger.
Together they successfully managed to mop up most of the offending liquid. The document had thankfully cleaned up rather well, and apart from the discoloured paper, and the odd smudge was still as readable as ever.
The wet paper was then carefully placed into a spare wallet, before being filed away in her briefcase.
Undoing the buckle of her seatbelt, she moved swiftly out of her seat onto the gangway at her side. Pinching her once white blouse, she pulled the wet material away from her chest, before moving gracefully to the nearest vacant toilet.
Her shirt was unbuttoned quickly, exposing sticky flesh, and her lacy bra, which, like her top had also originally been white.
The small bathroom of the aeroplane was cramped, and did not allow much room for her to move, let alone adequately clean up. Hooking her shirt on the door, she set about cleaning the skin which had made contact with the coffee stained shirt, and as a result was now sticky, with a permanent coffee smell.
The stickiness was easy for she to get rid off. The smell was not, and by the time Bette was sure the smell had gone, so had most of the liquid soap.
Reaching a hand towards her shirt, she was not so surprised to discover that it was still wet. Which left her with two options, she could either go out there without her shirt and have everybody and there grandfathers staring at her. Or she could stay in the bathroom until the shirt had dried suitably.
Not surprisingly she chose the second option.
Setting herself down on the lid of the toilet seat, she allowed her thoughts to drift to other places. Other places being her adorable daughter Angelica, and her lover, Tina. Both of whom she had missed unconditionally.
She had been both exited, yet dreading the trip she was returning from. On one hand she would meet a few of the artists she admired, whose works fascinated her. Yet such an opportunity meant spending six weeks in Canada away from her baby girl, and the blonde who she dreamed about every night. Originally she had turned the offer down, using the excuse that she and Tina had just got back together, and needed to work on there relationship. However as soon as Tina found out about the offer, and Bette’s refusal, accepted the offer on her behalf, before persuading Bette that it was a chance in a lifetime.
She had been right. Although she missed them like crazy, these past six weeks had been some the most exiting, informative, best weeks of her life. Besides she was on her way home, and in a little under three hours would walk of the plane and into there waiting arms.
Bette was interrupted from her thoughts by a sharp jolt which threw her into the door her head banging against it. Slumping to the floor, she was vaguely aware of the terrified screams of other passengers, the crackling of the intercom, and the now pitch blackness of the toilet cubicle. The pressure dropped rapidly, making Bette gasp for air, as she clawed at the mask dangling teasingly from the roof.
She had just secured the mask over her face, when another lurch sent her hard onto the sink, the tap hitting the bottom of her back, causing her to cry out. Holding her eyes shut tightly, she knew that tears were slipping from the corners, she could feel there paths running down her face as the plane continued to shake rapidly.
Bette Porter was scared.
She knew she should make a move for the lock on the door, attempt to get back in her seat, yet she was paralysed with fear. She was trapped in the small toilet, in the dark, with no way of knowing what was going on. Instead she simply sat on the floor, holding on tightly, silently crying.
Minutes went by and lurching had stopped, the darkness however still remained. Turbulence, was the first though that went through bets mind, they must have hit some rather bad turbulence, or that’s what she tried to tell herself.
Just as she was about to reach for the door, the plane began to tilt forward, gently at first, but quickly moving into a forty degree angle, once more pushing Bette against the sink with an unmovable force.
Loud screams and bangs could be hear from the other passengers, along with Bette’s own terrified scream. The last sound Bette heard was the creaking of metal, and the bang that indicated the plane had finally impacted with the earth below it.
Fandom: The L word
Pairing: Bette/Tina
Rating: PG
Summary: Bette hates being away from Tina and Angelica, but this trip was vital to her career. What will Bette do when confronted with the fact that she may be separated from them forever.
Author's Notes: My first L Word Fanfic which has been put on hiatus due to my dis-interest in the L Word courtesy of the last inexplicably bad season.
The elegant, well manicured hand moved smoothly across the page, her gaze intense as she searched for that allusive yet vital piece of information. It was there, hidden behind fancy words, and drawn out language, the point that would make or break one of her students. Life was not easy being Dean Porter, especially when dealing with disappointed students.
Just when she was sure she had found it, an air stewardess rushed passed, knocking into every passenger as she went. Including the man sat next to Bette, who then proceeded to spill his coffee all over Bette, and all over the dissertation one student had spent months writing, and Bette had spent weeks looking over.
“Fuck.” The word came naturally to her as she sprung into action, along with the man who had spilt his coffee. His apologies were many, and he would continue to utter them even after Bette had told him that it was not his fault, in a cool tone that masked her anger.
Together they successfully managed to mop up most of the offending liquid. The document had thankfully cleaned up rather well, and apart from the discoloured paper, and the odd smudge was still as readable as ever.
The wet paper was then carefully placed into a spare wallet, before being filed away in her briefcase.
Undoing the buckle of her seatbelt, she moved swiftly out of her seat onto the gangway at her side. Pinching her once white blouse, she pulled the wet material away from her chest, before moving gracefully to the nearest vacant toilet.
Her shirt was unbuttoned quickly, exposing sticky flesh, and her lacy bra, which, like her top had also originally been white.
The small bathroom of the aeroplane was cramped, and did not allow much room for her to move, let alone adequately clean up. Hooking her shirt on the door, she set about cleaning the skin which had made contact with the coffee stained shirt, and as a result was now sticky, with a permanent coffee smell.
The stickiness was easy for she to get rid off. The smell was not, and by the time Bette was sure the smell had gone, so had most of the liquid soap.
Reaching a hand towards her shirt, she was not so surprised to discover that it was still wet. Which left her with two options, she could either go out there without her shirt and have everybody and there grandfathers staring at her. Or she could stay in the bathroom until the shirt had dried suitably.
Not surprisingly she chose the second option.
Setting herself down on the lid of the toilet seat, she allowed her thoughts to drift to other places. Other places being her adorable daughter Angelica, and her lover, Tina. Both of whom she had missed unconditionally.
She had been both exited, yet dreading the trip she was returning from. On one hand she would meet a few of the artists she admired, whose works fascinated her. Yet such an opportunity meant spending six weeks in Canada away from her baby girl, and the blonde who she dreamed about every night. Originally she had turned the offer down, using the excuse that she and Tina had just got back together, and needed to work on there relationship. However as soon as Tina found out about the offer, and Bette’s refusal, accepted the offer on her behalf, before persuading Bette that it was a chance in a lifetime.
She had been right. Although she missed them like crazy, these past six weeks had been some the most exiting, informative, best weeks of her life. Besides she was on her way home, and in a little under three hours would walk of the plane and into there waiting arms.
Bette was interrupted from her thoughts by a sharp jolt which threw her into the door her head banging against it. Slumping to the floor, she was vaguely aware of the terrified screams of other passengers, the crackling of the intercom, and the now pitch blackness of the toilet cubicle. The pressure dropped rapidly, making Bette gasp for air, as she clawed at the mask dangling teasingly from the roof.
She had just secured the mask over her face, when another lurch sent her hard onto the sink, the tap hitting the bottom of her back, causing her to cry out. Holding her eyes shut tightly, she knew that tears were slipping from the corners, she could feel there paths running down her face as the plane continued to shake rapidly.
Bette Porter was scared.
She knew she should make a move for the lock on the door, attempt to get back in her seat, yet she was paralysed with fear. She was trapped in the small toilet, in the dark, with no way of knowing what was going on. Instead she simply sat on the floor, holding on tightly, silently crying.
Minutes went by and lurching had stopped, the darkness however still remained. Turbulence, was the first though that went through bets mind, they must have hit some rather bad turbulence, or that’s what she tried to tell herself.
Just as she was about to reach for the door, the plane began to tilt forward, gently at first, but quickly moving into a forty degree angle, once more pushing Bette against the sink with an unmovable force.
Loud screams and bangs could be hear from the other passengers, along with Bette’s own terrified scream. The last sound Bette heard was the creaking of metal, and the bang that indicated the plane had finally impacted with the earth below it.