West Wing fic for VP100
Title: Heady Mix
Fandom: The West Wing
Characters: Amy (Donna, Josh)
Prompt: #36 Smell
Word Count: 442
Rating: FRT
Summary: Waiting for your brain to start functioning as the politically astute instrument you know it is.
Disclaimer: The closest thing I own to The West Wing is a t-shirt and a keychain. One was a gift, one was on sale.
Author's Notes: See Assertion
"Donna, I want..." You trail off as a part of your brain screams out the conclusions of that statement, YOU!
The rest of your brain suddenly becomes active, shouting down that other part of your brain that apparently just went insane. You were never that type of girl… Well, there were drunken experiments in College, but who didn't.
You are acutely aware that she’s staring at you with those clear blue eyes, waiting.
You're waiting, too. Waiting for your brain to start functioning as the politically astute instrument you know it is.
Trying to calm yourself, you breathe deeply. And, there it is again. The sudden desire sweeps over you in unexpected ways and with unbelievable force.
Now you understand. It’s not Donna, although she is an incredibly sexy woman. It’s that smell.
The unique combination is Josh and Donna. His woodsy aftershave, which he thinks makes him an outdoor man, and her bubbly, fruity scent, which somehow just perfectly fits her.
When you first started dating Josh, you hated that smell. You knew it was her and you wondered how her scent got all over your boyfriend. She was just his assistant. You never smelled like your assistant, unless you had borrowed her perfume. You doubt that he had ever done that, but still her smell lingered on him.
Then, slowly you grew to love the heady mix. You would lay in your bed, your head buried in the pillow he had used, just breathing in that scent.
You went into the relationship with eyes wide open. You had always known that there was another woman in the bed you shared with him. A ghost in the form of her. She was evident in the ink stains on his fingers, the blonde hairs on his jacket, the gloves in his coat pocket, and the smell on his skin.
All that time, you had believed that she was his ghost, but maybe, just maybe, she was both of your ghost. Maybe the reason you didn't mind when he called her first thing in the morning or she called him was because you enjoyed the reminder. The physical manifestation of the ghost that haunted your relationship.
You stare at her now, wondering. Can you be in love, or in desire, for both sides of this crazy obtuse, love triangle? Has her smell so deeply imbedded itself into your brain that you became heir apparent of your former lover’s obsession?
You wonder why, now, you must desire two unattainable people.
Shaking the odorous fog from your brain to go back to work, you wonder idly if they are so unattainable to each other now.
Fandom: The West Wing
Characters: Amy (Donna, Josh)
Prompt: #36 Smell
Word Count: 442
Rating: FRT
Summary: Waiting for your brain to start functioning as the politically astute instrument you know it is.
Disclaimer: The closest thing I own to The West Wing is a t-shirt and a keychain. One was a gift, one was on sale.
Author's Notes: See Assertion
"Donna, I want..." You trail off as a part of your brain screams out the conclusions of that statement, YOU!
The rest of your brain suddenly becomes active, shouting down that other part of your brain that apparently just went insane. You were never that type of girl… Well, there were drunken experiments in College, but who didn't.
You are acutely aware that she’s staring at you with those clear blue eyes, waiting.
You're waiting, too. Waiting for your brain to start functioning as the politically astute instrument you know it is.
Trying to calm yourself, you breathe deeply. And, there it is again. The sudden desire sweeps over you in unexpected ways and with unbelievable force.
Now you understand. It’s not Donna, although she is an incredibly sexy woman. It’s that smell.
The unique combination is Josh and Donna. His woodsy aftershave, which he thinks makes him an outdoor man, and her bubbly, fruity scent, which somehow just perfectly fits her.
When you first started dating Josh, you hated that smell. You knew it was her and you wondered how her scent got all over your boyfriend. She was just his assistant. You never smelled like your assistant, unless you had borrowed her perfume. You doubt that he had ever done that, but still her smell lingered on him.
Then, slowly you grew to love the heady mix. You would lay in your bed, your head buried in the pillow he had used, just breathing in that scent.
You went into the relationship with eyes wide open. You had always known that there was another woman in the bed you shared with him. A ghost in the form of her. She was evident in the ink stains on his fingers, the blonde hairs on his jacket, the gloves in his coat pocket, and the smell on his skin.
All that time, you had believed that she was his ghost, but maybe, just maybe, she was both of your ghost. Maybe the reason you didn't mind when he called her first thing in the morning or she called him was because you enjoyed the reminder. The physical manifestation of the ghost that haunted your relationship.
You stare at her now, wondering. Can you be in love, or in desire, for both sides of this crazy obtuse, love triangle? Has her smell so deeply imbedded itself into your brain that you became heir apparent of your former lover’s obsession?
You wonder why, now, you must desire two unattainable people.
Shaking the odorous fog from your brain to go back to work, you wonder idly if they are so unattainable to each other now.