(no subject)
Title: The Life of the Party
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: They (sadly) belong to Aaron Sorkin, not me.
A/N: This was written for angryteabag, who requested that Donna be paired with Sam; she also wanted a bar and evening wear included, and no mentions of Josh. Any spelling/grammatical errors are entirely my fault. If you spot one, please point it out, okay?
Donna stays at the party for an exactly one hour and seven minutes. In her opinion, it's about an hour and two minutes more than necessary.
She says a few quick goodbyes and headed for the door. If she was lucky, she could make last call at the bar a few blocks from her apartment. She probably wouldn't have time to change before she did, but that wasn't a big deal; in D.C., it was better to be overdressed. No one batted an eye to it, anyways.
The bar was about half full when she arrived. The bartender, whom she'd met the first week she moved here and was always friendly toward her, looked from Donna's face to her dress, and had her drink mixed and poured almost before her butt hit the barstool.
"Lousy party?" he asks, setting two napkins down next to the glass.
"It wasn't awful, but pretty close, Eric. Thanks for the drink." Donna pulls the fruit from her glass. Normally, she liked to tie a knot in the stem, but tonight, she only ate the cherry and set the stem on the napkin. The lemon slice stayed on the edge of the glass.
"No problem. And, uh, I think your date followed you in here," Eric says, nodding to the door. Donna turns, glass in hand, and sees Sam scanning the crowd. She catches his eye and waves him over.
"You bailed too, huh?" Sam says to Donna as he motions to the bartender for a drink. A moment later, a glass is set next to his hand, and he nods his thanks. "Donna, do me a favour; if I ever start bragging about my old law firm, or how much money I was making, remind me of tonight, and those guys I was stuck talking to for the better part of half an hour, okay?"
Donna laughs. "I will, as long as you remind me that next time, I need to pick a dress I can actually walk in, not just one that looks nice."
"Deal. Of course, you look more gorgeous than nice, but I see where you're going with it."
Donna turns slightly to look at him, a curious smile on her face. "You're calling me gorgeous?"
"I am," Sam says after he takes a long swallow of his drink. "If you could walk in it without feeling like you're suffocating, I'd say you should wear it more often. You look good in blue."
"Would you wear that tux, then, or will I be in formal wear while you're in a pair of jeans and your old Princeton sweatshirt?"
"Hey, I happen to like that sweartshirt. It's been through a lot with me," Sam protests. Anyone overhearing them right now would think that they're dating, but they both know better.
Donna finishes her drink and sets down the glass. She checks her watch and sighs. "You know what?"
"We have to go back?"
"Yeah. I'm pretty sure Leo's figured out that we bailed, and it's bad enough that we'll have to face his wrath in the morning. Now imagine listening to that while battling a hangover."
Sam grimaces. "I'll get us as cab."
They pay for their drinks. Donna follows Sam out onto the sidewalk, noticing for the first time the chill in the air. It definitely wasn't this cold half an hour ago when she got here. She shivers slightly, and Sam takes off his jacket, tucking it around her shoulders.
"You didn't wear a coat?" he says, surprised. "Donna, it's the middle of October."
Donna shrugs. "Thanks. No, I wasn't really thinking about that; I just wanted to get away from the party for a few minutes."
"And you don't keep a coat stashed in your office, or anything?"
"Yeah, but it would clash with my dress," she says, looking serious. Just then, a cab pulls up alongside them.
"You're crazy, Donna."
Donna laughs. "Yes, I am. Now get in the cab."
~End
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: They (sadly) belong to Aaron Sorkin, not me.
A/N: This was written for angryteabag, who requested that Donna be paired with Sam; she also wanted a bar and evening wear included, and no mentions of Josh. Any spelling/grammatical errors are entirely my fault. If you spot one, please point it out, okay?
Donna stays at the party for an exactly one hour and seven minutes. In her opinion, it's about an hour and two minutes more than necessary.
She says a few quick goodbyes and headed for the door. If she was lucky, she could make last call at the bar a few blocks from her apartment. She probably wouldn't have time to change before she did, but that wasn't a big deal; in D.C., it was better to be overdressed. No one batted an eye to it, anyways.
The bar was about half full when she arrived. The bartender, whom she'd met the first week she moved here and was always friendly toward her, looked from Donna's face to her dress, and had her drink mixed and poured almost before her butt hit the barstool.
"Lousy party?" he asks, setting two napkins down next to the glass.
"It wasn't awful, but pretty close, Eric. Thanks for the drink." Donna pulls the fruit from her glass. Normally, she liked to tie a knot in the stem, but tonight, she only ate the cherry and set the stem on the napkin. The lemon slice stayed on the edge of the glass.
"No problem. And, uh, I think your date followed you in here," Eric says, nodding to the door. Donna turns, glass in hand, and sees Sam scanning the crowd. She catches his eye and waves him over.
"You bailed too, huh?" Sam says to Donna as he motions to the bartender for a drink. A moment later, a glass is set next to his hand, and he nods his thanks. "Donna, do me a favour; if I ever start bragging about my old law firm, or how much money I was making, remind me of tonight, and those guys I was stuck talking to for the better part of half an hour, okay?"
Donna laughs. "I will, as long as you remind me that next time, I need to pick a dress I can actually walk in, not just one that looks nice."
"Deal. Of course, you look more gorgeous than nice, but I see where you're going with it."
Donna turns slightly to look at him, a curious smile on her face. "You're calling me gorgeous?"
"I am," Sam says after he takes a long swallow of his drink. "If you could walk in it without feeling like you're suffocating, I'd say you should wear it more often. You look good in blue."
"Would you wear that tux, then, or will I be in formal wear while you're in a pair of jeans and your old Princeton sweatshirt?"
"Hey, I happen to like that sweartshirt. It's been through a lot with me," Sam protests. Anyone overhearing them right now would think that they're dating, but they both know better.
Donna finishes her drink and sets down the glass. She checks her watch and sighs. "You know what?"
"We have to go back?"
"Yeah. I'm pretty sure Leo's figured out that we bailed, and it's bad enough that we'll have to face his wrath in the morning. Now imagine listening to that while battling a hangover."
Sam grimaces. "I'll get us as cab."
They pay for their drinks. Donna follows Sam out onto the sidewalk, noticing for the first time the chill in the air. It definitely wasn't this cold half an hour ago when she got here. She shivers slightly, and Sam takes off his jacket, tucking it around her shoulders.
"You didn't wear a coat?" he says, surprised. "Donna, it's the middle of October."
Donna shrugs. "Thanks. No, I wasn't really thinking about that; I just wanted to get away from the party for a few minutes."
"And you don't keep a coat stashed in your office, or anything?"
"Yeah, but it would clash with my dress," she says, looking serious. Just then, a cab pulls up alongside them.
"You're crazy, Donna."
Donna laughs. "Yes, I am. Now get in the cab."
~End