Dear World, I Want to be an Author (For Reelz)

So, it's true, I want to be an author. For those that know me it shouldn't really come as a GIANT shock, because I've been telling stories all my life. From the Danielle Steele wannabe book Bryleigh (which I wrote when I was 10, lest you judge at my mimicking Danielle) to my more serious angst (which we don't talk of because it's rubbish), I've been writing stories for a long time.

But now, now I've gone and grown up and have a job and work hard and do all the 'right' things. Telling people I want to write stories all day, well that's just bananas.

Still, I spend most of my days around people who do that very thing for a living, and I've often thought, why not me, why can't I? And so after of years of procrastination and deliberating and making excuses, I've just spent the past three months writing and I mean writing HARD!

There has been actual drafts and people have actually read said drafts and not set fire to them and accused me of wasting paper, so we're off to a good start. Now comes the next step, going out there and getting published and not answering in a teeny tiny voice when people ask what I spent all weekend doing, with a wimpering 'writing.'

My words on paper - let's say ahhh

Because that is the biggest hurdle, believing in the next step and not being afraid to loudly and proudly say, I've written a book, I like it and yes, it is about a young adult girl drawn into the life of demon hunting unwillingly and no it's NOT Twilight but it is set in the world of monsters and demons and I think other people will like reading it, without being embarrassed.

Wish me good luck!

Dear Reality Dating Shows

I’m not ashamed to admit, but Reality Dating Shows, I really like you. From the awwh sucks, humble approach of Farmer Wants a Wife to the fame-whoring desperation of The Bachelor/The Bacherlotte, you keep me highly, highly amused.

Farmer Wants a Wife, you are the quite achiever of genre. Despite my cynical outlook, and abhorrence that to seem country, host Natalie must always were flannel. I kinda, almost believe the intent to match make a couple is genuine. From the Farmers, who range in age and also attractiveness, to the ladies/fellas competing for their attention, everyone seems sincere about wanting to find love, and actually somewhat believe in the process and that it actually might help them find love. With good reason too, because Farmer’s strike rate is pretty impressive and I’ll admit it, come finale time, I am absolutely following at least one couple and hoping that weddings and babies are in their near rural future.

 At the complete opposite end of the spectrum The Bachelor and Bachelorette contain every failed/aspiring singer, actress, actor, wannabe host, and soon to be Playboy playmate hoping to find the elusive fifteen minutes anyway they can. Every scene, date and scenario is completely scripted and all competitors (because they are trying to win) are plied with alcohol at every given opportunity to help keep their desperation levels right there at the superficial surface.

And I love it, I love the squealing the women do, I love the macho posing of the men, the personality conflicts, the villains, the heroes all very carefully edited for me to react to. And yet still, every season one or two contestants make me support them. I adored Trista and Ryan way back when, and am so glad to hear they are still together years later. This season, I’m all for adorkable Chris to win Ali’s heart on The Bachelorette.

So basically, I’m a sucker. I’ll take any form of manipulated reality TV romance, anyway I can get it. Be it earnest and of honourable intention, or juicy, dirty and desperate, I’m hoping for tears, heartaches and true love. Come on Reality Dating Shows, give me the final rose.

Dear Twilight Eclipse Movie

Maybe it was because of the giant glass of wine I had before you started, maybe it was a Tuesday cheap ticket, maybe it was a session so late to avoid the squeeing of tweenies anytime RPatz or Taylor appeared on screen, who knows but guess what, I kinda liked you.

I won’t lie, I’ve see all your siblings in the Twilight Saga movie series and I’ve read those books that started off okay and turned into wretchedness. I thought the first film was average teen moody fluff. New Moon was pretty terrible aside from the dedication to Lautner’s abs. So my expectations were low but still, really Eclipse, not bad at all.

I’m not saying you were awesome, and that people should trample their relatives to go see you, but hey, Kristen Stewart wasn’t manic depressive so right there is a vast improvement. RPatz, has pretty much nailed his brooding look and avoided as much ‘sparkle time’ as possible. And the biggest surprise of all, Taylor actually at various points, did some acting! Like actually emoted and stuff, it was a little scary.

On the negative side, the hairstyles were bad, seriously bad. I know that K-Stew was offered a lot of money not to chop off her hair and I kinda understand why. That wig was a shocker, or should I say wigs, because Bella was rocking different looks, styles and colours at various points on the same day. The entire Cullen family hairstyles in fact were awful and I can’t decide if possibly the hairstyle team went ultra meta and thought a hairdresser would be ‘afraid’ of the Cullens and so they’d been unable to do their own hair for centuries.

Oddly, I thought the KStew and RPatz chemistry was toned down a smidge. I think the bed kissing scene from Twilight was far hotter than anything we saw in you, Eclipse movie. And while we all know the emo kids are safety in the storm banging, I thought Taylor did an okay job of looking like he could possible break up the co-dependent couple.

So Twilight: Eclipse movie, not bad work by you. I feel like this is your swan song, because as you attempt to film the crazy-town book that is Breaking Dawn and you have to sustain both your lead couple’s relationship for at least two years to not make filming and the following press junket really, really awkward, I say enjoy this moment, enjoy the glory because it’s fleeting.

Dear Sex and the City 2

I’m sure I won’t be the first or the last, or even the most witty or cinematically correct review but I still need to talk with you. Others have touched on the absurdity of you as a film, the complete religious intolerance the moment the you leave New York and even before that and many other troubling aspects. Mine however is more personal. See you took these characters, who have for a modern generation of women been a touchstone, and a mirror (of a highly stylized nature) to our own lives and turned them into materialistic, selfish, intolerant, ignorant bitches.

Sex and the City TV series characters were as follows:

Carrie: Positive champion of love, and searching for it through her own failings as well as her suitors. Accepting the differences of a relationship but never comprising on the key element of respect and love.
Miranda: Cynical but soft inside career woman balancing her A type personality in work and play and finding friends accept you no matter who you are.
Charlotte: Prim and proper New Yorker desperate to find ‘the one’ but instead finds a soulmate and an actual relationship.
Samantha: Sexy and determined woman, who had sex drive and ambition and wasn’t afraid to show it but found in the end, that sex drive can also exists a relationship and often the two work better together.

Sex and the City 2 Movie Characters:

Carrie: Materialistic perfectionist who once finished decorating, decides the marriage isn’t going her way because her beloved watches Deadliest Catch instead of her undressing into her PJ’s and runs away to a foreign land to shamelessly flirt with her ex and ignore friends needs and advice.
Miranda: Doesn’t really exists except to give cultural background and tid bits, and shout various catchphrases and be a part of the one good scene with Charlotte about being a mother. There’s something about work and a nasty, nasty man but it all gets too hard so she quits – you’d be sad if you actually ever saw her really care about anything other than the next plot driven Arabic tidbit.
Charlotte: Completely paranoid wannabe stepford bride, who based solely on another woman’s looks decides her husband is a cheater waiting to happen. Also, continues her movie character self of being the physical joke by doing over the top stupid things in a foreign country as if she’s never left America. One good scene with Miranda about how tiring motherhood can be, is ruined by the nanny being a lesiban so that’s okay, everything is fine now.
Samantha: The greatest crime to a character, Samantha becomes the equivalent of Stifler in American Pie. A 13 year old who spends the entire time either having sex, talking about sex, using the worst puns for sex or freeloading. Apparently in this world, Season 6 for SATC never happened.

You, you damn movie, have taken these characters I loved so much and turned them into jokes. Into movie ‘women’ whose real cares are resolved in 146 mins and happy endings means sex on a hummer at the beach without those damn religious zealots and their need for decency or a diamond ring to say you are punished for being emotionally demanding and an uber naggy bitch wife.

Dear Exercise

What’s up exercise? We haven’t been together in a long time. Last year we were pretty serious, and we had great times together. Then I guess we drifted apart, you hurt me pretty badly earlier this year and I guess I needed a break and to think about what I wanted from our relationship.

Well, today we got back together and I’ve just gotta tell you, you’re not making it easy for me. It was a casual catch up in the park but I left feeling exhuasted, sore and well, frankly breathless. You’re giving me the cold shoulder, I see that now, you’re making it hard for me to love, hell like you again.

But did you have to bring those other much pretty girlfriends today? Did you have to parade them in front of me and show me how easy it was for them to be with you, and how they left feeling great, springy and not red faced.

I know we need to work on our relationship, and yes, I need to do most of the work but if you could make it a little easier for me, be more welcoming – well then I’d be more interested in catching up regularly.

Just saying is all.

Dear Jennifer Lopez

So here’s the thing. I’ve just spent some time with you and your most recent rom com The Back Up Plan and it’s not good. Not even bad good, but just really bad. Generally a rom com has either romance or comedy but sadly, this was lacking both. I think when you start relying on a disabled dog and a slightly foul mouthed senior citizen and zany friend to carry the film, it’s not going well. Betty White cornered the zippy elderly lady routine and Sandra Bullock nabbed her first.

Once upon a time J-Lo, I used to defend your movie skills. I still think The Wedding Planner is not a bad little flick, and Maid in Manhattan – that’s bad good. You also once upon a time, showed real promise. Cast your mind back to you and George Clooney in Out of Sight. That is some serious sizzle and you actually acted in the film. Not just batted your super extend eyelashs and expected the audience to fall in love with your charming ‘Zoe’.

So here’s the deal Jen, you stop making romantic comedies that have no actual laughter or chemistry in them and life will be a little bit easier. Can you also pass the message along to Jennifer Aniston, that would be tops.

Torchwood Fan Fiction: Watching On

Title: Watching On
Author: Published as Finn AUS
Pairing: Jack/Ianto, pov Owen
Rating: If you watch TW you’re good.
Summary: Owen watches The Dance.
Spoilers: Up to Something Borrowed
Disclaimer: All credit and kudos to BBC and Co, and a small clap for John B and Gareth
Feedback: OH YES PLEASE, seriously love it!
Author Note: After reading many, many, many boards and people’s reaction to ‘The Dance’, I’m still not sure exactly my position but I wanted to take a look at Ianto/Jack from the outside in that moment. And sorry, but it’s a smidge angsty. This stems from the wonderful Burn reaction shot to the Jack/Ianto dancing – go back and look, he’s background acting his pants off.


He’s in for a world of trouble. He’s walking into the fire and the last time the boy fell it wasn’t good, for any of them. Ianto doesn’t fall gently, Owen knows this only too well. Leaning against the bar though, the music humming softly in the background, the two lovers embracing, Owen wants to believe.

He feels Tosh turn and notice them, and he’s not sure if it’s her first confirmation. Of course they all suspected, Owen amazingly clued in pretty quickly. He didn’t particularly want to spend all day gossiping with Gwen and Tosh, so said nothing. Still, you can feel chemistry in a room, even when you are dead.
He’s worried though, and that’s a big step for Owen. Ianto, above the rest of team has been his anchor in this miserable experience. He’s been patient, understanding and has borne the brunt of Owen’s many rants. And it’s in his own death that Owen has really learnt about this young man’s life. Through both experience and observation. How demeaning it can be, to be grunt level service but how pride in a simple task lightens Ianto’s eyes. How his ascension in the team isn’t bedding the boss, but actual smarts – Ianto knows far more than he’s ever given credit for.

His worry though stems from his chosen lover. Jack has a different perspective, a different lifetime that he brings to their ...whatever it is. He has spent over a century building some pretty intense defences and Owen’s not sure the Welshman can break through, without breaking himself. Ianto’s been broken before, would he survive another?

It’s different though, even Owen can see that. He’s surer, confident and more alive. Ironic, that it takes a dead man to see it. Ianto’s running into this, and Owen wants to believe it’s with eyes open, with hands out to protect himself, but it’s not his style.

The gentle swaying slows, until they’re almost standing still. Owen’s aware that certain, more conservative members of the party are beginning to murmur and stare. It’s not penetrating their world though, and for that he is glad. Gwen is also staring, Owen notices. Funny, the bride should be slightly upstaged on her own wedding day.

It’s with surprise that Owen finally notices that Jack’s eyes are closed, his smile small but content. He can’t recall ever seeing his Captain in such a vulnerable position publically. It’s almost unnerving.

Tosh leans over, ‘That’s very sweet isn’t it?’ she whispers.

There’s no answer from Owen, a simple nod. Sweet probably isn’t where this is going. Torchwood doesn’t specialise in sweet and sunny relationships, try as they might. Still, watching on, for a moment in time, fingers intertwined, Owen wants to believe.

Torchwood Fan Fiction: The Refuge at Home

Title: The Refuge at Home
Author: Published as Finn AUS
Pairing: Jack/Ianto, post Exit Wounds
Rating: If you’ve seen all episodes aired then you’re good.
Summary: Jack struggles with memories.
Spoilers: Up to and including Exit Wounds
Disclaimer: All credit and kudos to BBC and Co, and a small clap for John B and massive clap Gareth for his fine performances in S2, and just generally looking so damn fine.
Feedback: Yes please!!
Author Note: Many, many people have commented on the fact that Jack must have some serious mental will power, because no average person survives being buried alive and reliving it, time over. A small piece about the possibilities that he’s not okay.


In the darkness, his panting is more furious. I sit next to him, waiting for the right moment. To break the cycle, to cut into the nightmare. I’ve been the recipient of countless black eyes, many fingers around my throat and one particularly bad night, he almost snapped my neck. It’s that moment between reality and the dream state.  I have to pick the moment and help him back, help him find a way out of the darkness and back to this world.

The first night, it scared me more than I care to admit, even to him. I’d crept from the bed, where we had just spent past several hours worshipping each other’s bodies, to clean the mess. An impatient and more hungry lover, I’ve never known. The wake we leave is pretty chaotic and I can’t sleep knowing that clothes are strewn from one end to another. Still, I was folding and straightening, when I heard him, whimpering. I didn’t believe the sound to be him, it was so foreign, so wounded, so vulnerable. But the volume increased and the only place it was coming from was the bed I just left. Then I strangely thought he was joking, begging for more and in my mind, at that moment it made sense – the man was after all insatiable.

How wrong I was. I found him in the foetal position, clawing at the sheets, clawing at the air, gasping for breath – yet asleep. For more time than I want to remember, I was frozen. How could this man, who’d been so indestructible, so immortal be crashing down before me? I moved and immediately surrounded his body with mine, attempting to offer comfort. I got a short sharp elbow to the ribs instead. Of course he knew nothing, it hadn’t been meant for me.

For weeks he wouldn’t discuss it, but the pattern continued irregularly. I tried to raise it, various ways, various times but he was a master at evasion, and he knew my weakness. Then, shortly after Owen and Toshiko passed, after I heard a sound from him that no human would ever make. A pain that radiated from his body – he told me. Spoke of years spent in a place no person should. Spoke of a darkness that he feared. Spoke to a place he went mentally that scared him. Saw inside something that still frightens him when he thinks about it. And I did what only I knew how, I kissed him. I held him. I loved him.

So each night the darkness comes knocking, I am prepared. To offer a refuge, to help him find the way back home. To help him see the light.

Torchwood Fan Fiction: The Five Stages

Title: The Five Stages
Author: Published as Finn AUS
Pairing: Jack/Ianto, post Exit Wounds
Rating: If you’ve seen all episodes aired then you’re good.
Summary: Ianto goes through the five stages of grief.
Spoilers: Up to and including Exit Wounds
Disclaimer: All credit and kudos to BBC and Co, and a small clap for John B and massive clap Gareth for his fine performances in S2, stole the show.
Feedback: Yes please!!
Author Note: I really felt Ianto didn’t get the grief outlet that Gwen and Jack were allowed to do on screen, so I wanted to explain in my own way, why we didn’t see that outpouring. Apologies for badness and lack of grammar.

Denial

The floor. It’s covered in it and it’s all I can see. She lays dying, almost dead and I can’t move. I’m frozen and I can’t see anything but her blood and its sickly trail down the stairs. They shed tears and hold her close and suddenly I’m compelled to action. I rush toward my area, and grab the solvent and a rag and beginning scrubbing. The trail runs right through the hub and I can’t seem to scrub it all away, it just sinks into the rag, a red I know too well. It takes a moment for the others to realise I’m not there, they are still contained in their grief. But after minutes pass, and no breath returns, and the tears slow, both Jack and Gwen begin to return to their surroundings. He rises slowly and catches my eye across the floor. I’m kneeling, my pristine suit soaking into her blood and I continue to scrub. The rag is now red and no use, but I can’t stop, I can’t stop scrubbing. I feel a hand on my shoulder and feel his weight come to my level.
‘Ianto,’ he whispers, trying to break my trance. I won’t stop though, can’t. It must be clean, the blood can’t remain.
‘Ianto,’ he tries again, and his hands encompass mine. I am still for a moment, and I notice, not for the first time that his hands cover mine completely. Then I see, his hands are covered, the blood is everywhere.
‘Owen,’ I mutter words for the first time and they hurt my throat. They drag across my lips and scar my mouth. I rise quickly, the keys, they must be somewhere, where did I leave them? Jack holds my shoulders, attempting to still me but it’s not enough, and his strength isn’t completely returned. I shake the grasp and race to the keys.
‘Where are you going?’ Gwen interrupts, her tears running black.
‘Owen, out there.’ I reply, more strongly this time.
‘Ianto,’ Jack says again, inching towards me. His desperation doesn’t offer a strong shoulder for me at the moment.
‘No, Owen’s alone, he’s ... out there,’ I am rambling, I know it, and I can’t stop shaking but I must keep moving.
‘There’s nothing out there,’ Gwen offers tearfully.
‘No, Owen’s out there, he’s ...the...his body...he’s alone.’ I repeat. I can’t leave him alone.
‘Ianto,’ Jack for a third time repeats my name. I feel like I can’t quite hear him. The keys are violently shaking in my hands. I feel his hands wrap around me and the jangling stops. I can’t though, and I try to move away.
‘No, there’s blood, on the floor. I need to ...there’s...’ my words are making no sense, I can’t rearrange them. I feel his embrace, and slowly the sensation of his cheek against mine. I can’t quite catch my breath, I can’t get it back to normal and my heart keeps beating faster than normal, I feel wrong in my own skin. His fingers touch my neck, caress my face but I can’t quite feel it.
‘Ianto, they’re dead,’ he finally gets past my name and I choke. My knees buckle and I launch into his shoulder. I feel his grip tighten and surround me.

Anger

Moments later though, when the tears have subsided and our embrace has ended. It strikes me, harder and faster than I thought would be possible but with a strength that emboldens me. The gun is so close, and the black metal so comforting. So soothing. He is talking to Jack, offering a penance that should never be accepted. I move quickly and with a skill and precision few expect from the tea boy. The gun is at his temple before anyone realises.
‘Ianto, what are you doing?’ Jack is startled and I see it in his eyes, it’s nothing he’s expected from me.
‘Hey, eye candy, it’s okay.’ John tries to deflect with humour. I won’t have any of it.
‘You!’ I click the safety off, my finger itching on the trigger.
‘Woah, no, Grey held me hostage, I didn’t have a choice,’ he is yelling now, panic surging as he understands my intent.
‘Ianto, Ianto, what are you doing?’ Gwen arrives on the scene and is quickly moving towards me.
‘It’s his... fault. Owen and Tosh ... dead...you!’ I thunder. ‘There’s always a CHOICE!’ I continue.
‘Ianto, put the gun down,’ Jack commands. His arms folded.
‘It’s his fault! He...his,’ I shake, waiting for the others to understand. John brought this into our lives, welcomed it. Why don’t they see that?
‘Put it down,’ he demands. His voice echoing through the hub. It halts me and I can’t do it. I throw the gun to the floor, it skidding to his feet. And I seethe at him, barely contained rage. He mirrors my stance, hoping to soothe the anger. I leave the room, but not before a well placed punch lands John out cold on the floor.

Bargaining

The archives are dark and quiet but I’m searching by memory. If I find it, then of course, Jack will agree. He’s done it himself.
‘What are you doing?’ He doesn’t startle me, I heard him enter the room moments ago.
‘The glove, I’m looking for the glove.’ I answer, without stopping.
‘It’s gone,’ he replies simply.
‘Where? We can... Tosh...she could,’ my words still won’t make sense.
‘No,’ he whispers.
‘What? ...We...you’ve done it!’ I plead.
‘And it was the worst decision I’ve made. Owen was never the same, do you want that for Toshiko?’ He asks. And of course I don’t, but if I could just give him an answer that would make him understand then of course, of course he’d help. It’s just my words, they won’t work.
‘Ianto, they’re gone now,’ he walks towards me.
‘But, if we...try...and just,’ I stammer, the shaking returning.
‘No,’ he says again, an understated determination. I can’t breathe again, and my knees give away and I find myself on the floor.

Depression

He’s kneeling in front on me. Almost praying, but staring into my soul that it scares me. I see him through tears and I can’t do it anymore, so I hang my head. His hands pull me into his embrace and I feel everything leave. I’m left with pain, a pain I know.
‘I can’t...this...Canary Wharf and now...’ my words hurt my ears.
‘I know, I know,’ he repeats.
‘What’s the point?’ I ask, and for the first time, my words fall into place and make sense. It’s a sense that I don’t want to understand.
‘Because what’s the alternative,’ he offers.

Acceptance

‘The End is where we start from,’ I felt Jack stand taller in that moment. Felt him rise, to the challenge. I realise that I want to be there for him, to be in the fight and to make a difference. I’ve stood amongst ruins before, with battered bodies lying around me and it sent me to a place I don’t care to remember. Here though, in an emotional wasteland, I want to change it, I want to count.

Torchwood Fan Fiction: The Fear of Falling

Title: The Fear of Falling
Author: Published as Finn AUS
Pairing: Jack/Ianto,
Rating: PG-13 Little bit of swearing, but nothing too crazy
Summary: A Meat 2x04 post ep – with a tiny interlude of the last five minutes
Spoilers: Up to and including Meat 2x04
Disclaimer: Yes, yes, we know BBC own them, John Barrowman, Gareth Lloyd-David inhabit them, but please can I play with them?
Feedback: Like that a certain moment in To The Last Man, I love it!
Author Note: My very first Torchwood fic, I’m not quite confident in my Jack and Ianto banter but wanted to roll this baby out before the next episode airs. Another dissatisfied Meat watcher, until you think about a-certain Captain’s moodiness from another perspective. Also, this started so brilliantly in my mind but in writing faded out, so advanced apologies. Hopefully the next muse hangs in there.


He took deep breaths, and closed his eyes. The cupboards were cool against his forehead and it provided some respite to the images flashing through his mind. He could almost hear it, on a continuous loop, the double click of an empty barrel.

Click, click. Shaking himself violently to make the sound recede, Ianto focused on his fingers gripping the tabletop. His thumbs were only now starting to ache, the adrenaline numbing the fact he dislocated both in his effort to free himself. Didn’t know he had that talent but when the time calls for these things, sometimes joints have to move unnaturally.
Click, click. Damn it. He slammed his hand down onto the bench which caused Tosh to raise her head.
‘Out of sugar,’ he smiled, allaying her concern. Focus, breathe, and move. Continue, tick the boxes, check the tasks. Water, that’s right, Jack had asked for a water after Gwen sauntered out with Rhys.
‘Here you go Sir,’ he handed him the bottle, and whilst their fingers grazed momentarily, Jack failed to even look him the eye. Just mumbled a thanks, and then paced his office while Ianto stood there, helpless, hoping for even a moment of worry, or even a congratulations, you handled yourself well today – but no, silence prevailed.
Click, click. Ianto moved forward, quickly, and grabbed the pile of books haphazardly placed on Jack’s desk, tidying, busying himself, doing something. But his fingers had begun to tremble of their own volition and as he turned to shelve the books, they came tumbling out of his hands.

‘Fuck it,’ he cursed, more violently than normal and Jack finally stirred from his melancholy. Still, he said nothing, just walked over to where Ianto was on his knees piling the books and began to help.
Click, click. Then Jack saw it, the tremble, the shake and then he felt it, the unsureness, the lack of confidence that Ianto had begun to encompass. Grabbing his hands, Jack stilled him. And they knelt together in his office for a few moments while Ianto’s breathing slowed, calmed.

‘You were pretty impressive today Ianto,’ Jack murmured.
‘You know me Sir, can’t let you have all the fun,’ he replied, desperate to divert attention from his rapidly crumbling facade.
‘I’d hardly call today fun,’ Jack murmured back.
‘No, me either.’
‘What’s this?’ Jack questioned, gently touching Ianto’s increasingly swollen thumbs.
‘Ah, escaping injury, nothing to worry about,’ he shifted uncomfortably and arose minus the books, just looking for an escape.
‘What’d you do, dislocate your fingers?’ Jack laughed.
‘Yep,’ he replied back.
‘Oh, I didn’t know,’ and he really didn’t.
‘Well, luckily for me they can’t tie ropes or count ammunition, otherwise you’d be short a tea boy.’
‘What?’ Jack was confused.
‘Oh yes, one of the buggers tried to shoot me, thankfully the gun was out.’ Ianto smiled, attempting bravery and falling a little short.
Click, click.
His breath hitched again as he heard it, louder and unfortunately Jack noticed.
‘Hey, hey, sit down, come on’ he guided him towards the chair.
‘Sorry, not quite used to the life and death stuff, just yet ...or that much meat either,’ Ianto sighed.
‘Here, try this,’ and Jack reached into his drawer and pulled out the whiskey, pouring a healthy amount into a glass and handing it towards the still trembling man.
‘Trying to get me pissed in the middle of the afternoon, Sir,’ a vague attempt at lightening the mood.
‘Not today,’ Jack mused. He was about to continue when the unmistakeable sound of the door alarm echoed. Ianto rolled his eyes as he heard Gwen’s voice raised in defiance.

***

And then the air was clear, and silent. She’d left, with Jack storming back past Ianto and him stranded there, unsure. He moved quietly away, toward the kitchen, his whiskey still in hand and no one followed.
Click, click. The whiskey went down fast, faster than he normally would drink it, but fast enough to quieten the sound. And he moved again, moved to collect dishes, moved to sign off on replacement forms, moved to replace resources and reassemble broken items, and moved to avoid it. He didn’t even notice that Tosh and Owen had individually left, leaving a quietened hub and stewing Captain Jack Harkness.
Ianto couldn’t stay for this, he couldn’t act as though the earlier altercation between Gwen and Jack had meant nothing, especially not after Jack’s complete shutdown. God, Ianto had promised himself, time and time again, he was not going to become a sad love-sick git. It led to dangerous places, and dangerous actions. Here he was though, storming around the Hub, longing to be heard, and again, fading into the background. And bugger if that arrogant shite was going to let him feel this way. Grabbing his coat, he headed towards to the exit-
‘Where are you going?’ Jack asked, standing in his doorway, mirroring his earlier stance in front of her.
‘Sorry Sir, thought I’d finished for the day, what did you need?’ Ianto professionally replied.
‘Well, I, I guess I thought you’d stay here,’ the ego was gone, and for a moment Ianto wanted to succumb but no, he would not be a consolation prize.
‘I think it’s a bit crowded in your bed already,’ he curtly replied and tried again for the exit.
‘What the hell does that mean?’ Jack answered, roused from his deflation.
‘Nothing Sir.’
‘Stop fucking calling me Sir, and explain,’ Jack stormed.
‘I know I’m just the tea boy, but I’d rather not be a diversionary shag,’ Ianto steamed.
‘Jesus Christ, are you kidding me?’ Jack yelled towards the ceiling, raising his fists in frustration.
‘If you want her so badly, you should tell her instead of screwing me over’.
‘Her who?’
‘Gwen Bloody Cooper!’ Ianto yelled.
‘Want Gwen?’ And he chuckled.
‘Ianto, I do not want Gwen Bloody Cooper, you daft prick, I want you,’ he smiled.
‘What?’ It was the younger man’s turn to be confused.
‘Yeah, for some reason, I want you in my bed.’
‘Then why the sad eyes just now,’ Ianto, still bewildered.
‘Because, I’m confused,’ Jack stated simply.
‘About what?’
‘About Gwen and Rhys, and whether I retcon him. This is supposed to be a Secret Branch of the Government and we’re not doing a stellar job of the Secret aspect.’
‘Suppose the big black car doesn’t help?’ Ianto replied.
‘No, but my main problem is, I can’t very well demand she stand down because he makes her vulnerable. Pretty damn hypocritical.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you’re beginning to make me just as vulnerable,’ Jack whispered. The two men now stood inches apart, their eyes locked, the air charged.
‘I’m the leader of this team, that’s what I do, and I’m supposed to know better, but when they marched you out there in the ropes today, I just about surrendered.’
‘Usually you like me tied up,’ Ianto joked.
‘Not funny, today that’s not funny. Seriously, what do I next time when you’re held hostage?’
‘There won’t be a next time,’ Ianto soothed.
‘But there’s going to be danger, and I can’t be thinking of you when I’ve got to make some big decisions.’
‘Then what do you suggest?’ Ianto feared the answer.
‘Bed, you in it, and preferably naked but if not I can work around that,’ he smiled.
‘Jack,’ Ianto sighed.
‘I know, but I can’t think about it today. Today you were a hero and I want to show how appreciative I am of that.’
‘Well I definitely think appreciative-ness is an important emotion,’ Ianto grinned. As Jack slowly dragged him towards the office, towards bed, Ianto realized that it was quiet, no clicking, no shaking, or at least of a fear induced nature. And sure, tomorrow was stirring, with its questions and the darkness but tonight, he wanted to forget.

Torchwood Fan Fiction: I'm In It

Title: I’m In It
Author: Published as Finn AUS
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: G
Summary: Ianto muses on his feelings for Jack.
Spoilers: Season 2 ish, but nothing specific.
Disclaimer: Two very developed characters shouldn’t have to sit on the shelf for a whole week. I promise BBC, I’ll return them.
Feedback: YES please!
Author Note: A little Ianto angsty musing, in response mainly to many naysayers who feel the Janto shippers are fantasists because of the ‘happy ending’ fan fics out there. I’m not so black/white and shades of grey is where the fun stuff lives but I thought I’d take at stab at Ianto’s realistic feelings.

I’m in it. I don’t believe in fairytales or sunset endings, in fact I’m pretty sure one, or both of us is going to get wrecked by this, but it’s too late, I’m in it.

It wasn’t supposed to go this far, this was a hobby, a dabbling into something new. I was completely content in a part time shag. Then you went and had to be all you, bustling ego encasing a wounded soul.

In the beginning, it wasn’t supposed to mean anything. Just passing time. Then you went and died. And I didn’t completely fall apart like last time. This was different, it hit harder and felt deeper. And that was just five minutes until you regained breath.

Still, I didn’t believe it of myself. Certain experiences hardened me, and while the pain I went through over her wasn’t welcomed, it has turned me into who I am. And I’m not the boy wonder who needs someone to hold his hand. I’m not the glassy eyed tea boy who moons over his boss.

You left and for days later, hell weeks later, I was furious, and sure I’ll admit – jealous. Then you came back, all strut and swagger and that’s when I knew, I was in it.

I don’t expect the same from you but occasionally, I glance it in your eyes, see it in a smile, feel it in a touch. And of course, you’ve made it incredibly frustrating by having increasingly complex relationships. Still, ex-lovers, unrequited loves and plain old work colleagues aside – I’m in it.

I’ll be a place for you to seek refuge, relief or whatever you damn well please. Because life and death, doesn’t mean anything without it. And the impending, imploding ending that waits patiently for us, can wait just a bit longer.

Because I’m in it.

Torchwood Fan Fiction: Damn Ianto Jones

Title: Damn Ianto Jones
Author: Published as Finn AUS
Pairing: Jack/Ianto,
Rating: PG-13 Tiny mention of bedroom relationships
Summary: A little Jack internal thoughts time.
Spoilers: Just general Season 2 Jack/Ianto togetherness
Disclaimer: Yes, yes, we know BBC own them, John Barrowman, Gareth David-Lloyd inhabit them – and how well does GDL inhabit!
Feedback: OH YES PLEASE, seriously love it!
Author Note: This is a little Jack internal thoughts rambling. A few comments from people got me thing about how we’ve never seen Jack express his feelings for Ianto, well he doesn’t have to say it people! He can think it.

You don’t see it. You barely understand how you end up in my bed each night. It started as something to ease the pain, for both of us, for different reasons. A rage still burned in you, and often, in the beginning, it expressed itself toward me. I don’t blame you, in fact I welcomed it on some occasions.

A different pain greeted me upon my return, an anger I wasn’t expecting, I’m not used to being missed like that. I’m not used to someone expressing pain and fury with me, I’m so used to flying along, my world jumping from one to another and consequences being left in my wake. But your eyes burned at me from across the room, a stare of blazing resentment. I was completely confused but of course, it was done differently here, this entanglement thing.

Slowly we soothed the pain, with physical promises and long nights together but you still don’t quite see it. You look at me with questions in your eyes daily, you doubt yourself, you see others as competitors.
And of course, in the beginning, I worried that it would get complicated. I was convinced you’d want declarations and a relationship based in monogamous fantasies. Again though, you surprised the hell out of me. Not once, have you ever demanded this thing between us be defined. You’ve never expressed frustration at my reluctance to share my entire life story.

And that’s what you don’t see, is that someone I assumed was a boy yet to really mature, is taking me down. You don’t understand that on the rare nights, you’re not with me it’s colder than it has been in long while. You don’t realise I sleep more soundly with you in my bed. You challenge me sexually, game for game – another shockingly pleasant surprise. You don’t see it because I’m doing my best to keep it hidden. But one day soon, I think you might start to see, that I’ve pretty much fallen in love with you. Against my better judgement, against every fibre of my being, the tea boy has, with his open heart, shining eyes and willingness to follow me into any hell I ask, convinced me to love. Damn Ianto Jones.

West Wing Fan Fiction: Glimpses of Everything and Nothing 7/7

Title: Glimpses of Everything and Nothing - Part 7/7
Author: Finn AUS & Co Authored with Caz (smut Queen)
Rating: R (Physical stuff – a stronger version is on NC 17 List – oh YAY!)
Spoiler Info: Vaguely placed somewhere in Season Seven, veering off into AU.
Disclaimer: WB, NBC, Aaron Sorkin are the masterminds, John Wells is the minor-mind who had the good fortune to co-produce. I have no money, and even less with the US conversion rate so really not worth it.
Archiving permission: Awesome, please let me know so I can go look!
Summary: After a Republican makes suggestions about Donna and Josh's relationship in an attempt to derail the campaign, it forces them both to face the real truth.
Author Note 1: Praise of infinite proportions to Caz, who joins me as co-author for this final chapter. She has been patient, guiding and an overall fantastic beta who has made this project ten billion times better than it ever could have.
A/N 2: Thanks to everyone out there who has sent feedback and encouraged me to keep going.
Feedback: Would love, love, LOVE to read anything you’ve got say about this chapter or any other and please send feedback to co-author Caz

Donna wasn’t nervous because it had been a long time since she’d done this. Granted, it had been a long time – longer than she cared to remember - but that wasn’t it. She was nervous because it was Josh. After her brazen suggestion before retreating to the safety of her car, she had driven home happy and full of anticipation. It wasn’t until she’d started digging around in her closet for some sexy underwear and working out what she was going to wear – something casual, yet revealing, she decided – that the enormity of what was probably going to happen tonight really hit her. She was dressing for Josh – paying special attention to the fact that she could well be undressing for him, too - and that thought brought her to a dead stop. It was pretty likely she was going to end up in bed with Josh. Joshua Lyman. The man she’d wanted for the last nine years, who until that morning had never kissed her, never touched her in a non-platonic way – and she was a bag of nerves.

Donna’s nerves seemed to have increased ten-fold by the time she arrived at Josh’s apartment. She stood at his door, unable to knock for what seemed like hours, noticing that her hands were shaking. Trying to tamp down her nerves, she took a deep breath and told herself to stop worrying, stop feeling as though the rug would be pulled from under her feet at any moment. This was Josh – and OK, so maybe he was partly to blame for the butterflies that were presently winging desperately around in her stomach, but he was also the one person in her life she trusted above all others; he’d told her he loved her, and she knew it was true. So she shook her head to clear the cobwebs of doubt away and finally knocked on the door.

‘Hey,’ he smiled brightly, his familiar dimpled grin immediately putting her at ease.

‘Hi,’ she responded shyly and instantaneously he could sense her discomfort. Josh breathed a sigh of relief inwardly – so she was nervous too – and felt the knots in his chest start to undo themselves. He’d spent the past forty five minutes racing around his apartment, cleaning, clearing, ordering food and panicking. He was more nervous than he’d ever thought possible, because this was Donna. He’d wanted her so badly and for so long that the thought of actually being able to hold her, kiss her, touch her was both heady and terrifying.
Donna stood there, a slight flush to her cheeks, looking more than a little unsure of herself, and he sensed that she, too, was aware of what this night could mean.

‘Come in.’ He opened the door further, and as she walked past him he could smell the scent he’d always associated with her – a hint of … vanilla, she’d told him once, mixed with something else he couldn’t define, but which was uniquely her.

Entering his apartment, Donna felt a huge sense of relief wash over her. Josh hadn’t prepared a romantic candlelit dinner, there were no bouquets of flowers filling the room, no hushed mood music – just the TV on mute, Chinese take-out and wine, and Donna almost cried with happiness. Josh knew instinctively that she didn’t want any grand gestures, didn’t need any extras – she just needed him. He hung up her jacket, poured her a glass of wine and then walked into the kitchen to retrieve the chopsticks and soy sauce. She watched him walk away openly, remembering she didn’t have to watch him surreptitiously any more, and noticed he was still in his jeans from earlier but had changed into a black sweater. It really wasn’t fair, she thought – he looked incredible wearing old, faded jeans and a sweater, could fill out a suit like no one else she knew and as for the way he looked in a tux… How the hell did he *do* that? Most men could manage to carry off one look or the other, but Josh… Donna huffed and told herself to get a grip. One day of actually being able to think about him that way – and he was rapidly becoming *all* she could think about.

He walked back into the room smiling warmly at her, and she started to feel the anxiety she’d been feeling since earlier start to evaporate. This was familiar, this she knew, this… was Josh. He was smiling at her the way he’d often smiled at her – it was just now she knew what it meant – and her answering smile was beginning to drive away his nerves, too. Wrenching her mind away from the way he was looking at her and the fact that if she didn’t stop actually looking at him soon, she would probably jump him, Donna took a deep breath.

‘So what are we having?’ she sat down on the couch as Josh set down an array of cartons on the coffee table and handed her a pair of chopsticks.

‘An old favourite - Mr Chang’s, Special’s 1, 5 and 18. No garlic chicken this time though Ms Moss,’ he settled himself down on the floor just in front of her, and poured himself a glass of wine.

‘Excuse me - I believe you were the garlic fiend!’ Donna laughed, her nervousness slowly sliding away.

Josh smirked. ‘You believe what you want… I just remember that time you nearly knocked CJ over after we’d been up most of the night working on an appropriations bill!’ He poked around in one of the cartons as Donna set down her glass and did the same.

She opened her mouth to protest – but then remembered what he was talking about.

‘Now, a real gentleman wouldn’t have even brought that up!’

He grinned, wolfishly. ‘You should have told me you wanted a real gentleman, Donna, ‘cause then I’d never have dreamed of, y’know, kissing you this morning…oh, hang on – there’s a flaw in my logic there somewhere… because the way I remember this morning, you - ‘

‘Oh…just… shut up!’

Donna blushed and looked down at her food before reaching for the carton he was holding.

‘Hey! That’s mine!’

Donna grinned at him. ‘And your point would be?’

He waved his chopsticks around, reaching for another carton of food. ‘I can’t believe you’re still stealing food…’ he grumbled.

‘And I always thought you liked it…’ she said archly.

‘Whatever gave you that idea?’ He grinned and Donna couldn’t help but grin back…which was when Josh leaned over and whipped the carton back out of her hands.

‘Josh!’

He shrugged. ‘Told you it was mine!’

Donna huffed and poked him in the back with a chopstick. ‘Ow!’

He gave up and held the carton back out towards her. After a comfortable dinner spent discussing the campaign and its various strengths and weaknesses, Josh cleared away and returned to the sofa. He carefully preserved a distance between them, sitting in one corner, turning his body so that he was facing her. An awkward silence descended then, the companionable atmosphere that had settled between them sliding away. Donna stared nervously into her wine glass as if she could somehow find a way to proceed at the bottom of it, and Josh was leaning his head back, eyes closed.  She felt him shift his position and snap his head up to look at her.

‘So…’ He spoke quietly and Donna tensed immediately, wondering what was coming next. Josh had an unpredictable look in his eye and that fact alone worried her. For all the years she’d known him, she’d been able to read him, understand him and, as she’d joked, anticipate his every need. But for the past few months, it had felt as though she was working with someone she barely knew.

She watched him carefully, realising he was working himself up to something. If she hadn’t been so anxious, she might have found the situation mildly amusing – Josh Lyman lost for words wasn’t something that happened very often!

Donna finally raised her eyes to his face, and found that he was looking at her intently. She was strangely relieved to realise that she knew what he wanted to say.

For his part, Josh was watching the expressions of uncertainty crossing Donna’s face and was silently cursing himself for having put them there. In the past they had usually talked their way out of these awkward silences - teased, misdirected, joked – but now … now there were things that needed to be said before they could move on. He was preparing to speak when he heard Donna say, in little more than a whisper -

‘Ask me.’

‘What?’

‘Ask me the question,’ she repeated.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ He was stalling for time and they both knew it.

‘Yes you do, Josh. Ask me the question you most want an answer to right now.’ He sat uncharacteristically still for a moment, and then shifted towards her a little, tucking one leg up under him and placing an arm along the back of the sofa.

He took a deep breath. ‘Why did you quit?’

‘Nearly,’ she smiled back.

Josh raised his eyes to hers. ‘Why did you leave me?’

Donna couldn’t look away – in his eyes she saw again what she had glimpsed and turned away from weeks before – pain, loss, longing… and what she now recognised as love.

‘I had to. I couldn’t do it any more,’ she said, matter-of-factly.

‘Couldn’t do what?’

‘I couldn’t come into work day after day and have you look at me like that,’ she finished, her voice breaking a little.

‘Like what?’

‘Like I was nothing more than your assistant.’

‘I didn’t-‘

‘Josh, once I got back from Germany, something changed. Maybe even before then, I don’t know, but after… what happened to me, I did a lot of thinking, and realised that I wanted more. I didn’t want to be your timekeeper anymore.’ She sighed, and forced herself to continue. ‘I wanted something from the job that I wasn’t getting, I …’ she looked away, at her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. ‘I wanted something from *you* that I wasn’t getting.’ The words came tumbling out, and she found she was surprised by their honesty.

‘Donna-

‘Please, just let me finish,’ Donna breathed deeply before looking him directly in the eye once more. ‘After Gaza, you and I seemed to drift. I don’t know what happened but I couldn’t understand what you wanted from me anymore. I thought I knew you inside out but then afterwards - after the accident…I don’t know, but I felt…like it was somehow my fault, like I was being punished. I was back to being just your assistant, and I couldn’t handle you looking at me as if that’s all I could be,’ she finished softly, remembering how she’d felt so lost and broken, all those months ago.

‘I didn’t blame you,’ Josh said finally. ‘Not in the way you mean, but when you were hurt, I …I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t believe how much it scared me. People I love have a habit of dying or getting hurt, and when it was you, it was… I’ve never felt so – so *helpless* – and it was terrifying. So I thought that if I…‘ he broke off, finding it hard to continue. ‘Distance was easier,’ he admitted, sounding almost ashamed, yet knowing she would understand.

‘Josh, it doesn’t matter. I couldn’t have stayed anyway. It wasn’t healthy – not for either of us, and I needed to show myself – and maybe you – that I could do more. But Josh, you have to know this - leaving was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.’

Donna swallowed nervously, watching Josh take in everything she had said. It occurred to her that for two people who had spent the better part of nine years talking to each other, they had never had a conversation so fraught with honesty.

Josh cleared his throat. ‘I’m sorry you felt that way – that I made you feel that way.’ He smiled nervously, and Donna moved a little closer, grabbing the hand that was tracing circles on the back of the sofa and lacing her fingers through his.

‘I just want you to understand, Josh - after Germany I thought… I thought maybe we could be more than friends, but when I got back it seemed like we weren’t even that any more, and it was killing me.‘ She smiled, suddenly. ‘God – that sounds so melodramatic!’

He grinned. ‘Glad to see some things never change…’

Donna swatted his arm. Josh’s smile faded and he reached over to run a finger along her cheek.

‘You have to know this, Donna - you were never *just* an assistant to me,’ he whispered, and was rewarded with possibly the brightest smile he’d ever seen.

The look in her eyes, which were shimmering brightly was enough to drive every other thought out of Josh’s head, as he finally closed the distance between them and kissed her. She responded eagerly, opening her mouth willingly under his when his tongue demanded entry, running her hands up over his back and through the hair at the base of his neck.

‘I’ve been waiting to do that again since this morning,’ he said breathlessly as he pulled away.

‘Well, what took you so long?’ Donna grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back to her, running her thumb lightly along his bottom lip before kissing him again.

The kiss quickly escalated, Donna making little sounds in the back of her throat that Josh found unbelievably arousing. He moaned softly as he felt her tongue sliding against his as they explored each others mouths; her nails were scratching lightly at the back of his neck and he could feel the softness and warmth of her body as she leaned into him. His senses were on overload – if he’d had any blood left in his brain to think about it, he’d have likened this feeling to intoxication or a drug induced high. Gently, he began to push her back into the cushions of the sofa, shifting them both slightly so that her legs, which had been curled under her, were lying across his lap. Breaking the kiss, Donna chuckled.

‘Very slick manoeuvre there Josh - how many times’ve you practiced that one?’

‘Donna!’ He looked slightly offended. ‘I remember somebody telling me once that women like to be wooed – so cut me some slack here, OK?’

She grinned at him. ‘So this is wooing, huh?’

‘Well it would be if you’d stop talking long enough for… you know, this doesn’t happen very often -’

‘What doesn’t?’

‘The wooing, Donna! It’s… I’m like a solar eclipse.’

‘Let’s hope you’re not as fast a solar eclipse,’ she shot back, as she turned her body towards his and looping her arms around his neck, began to kiss her way along his jawline.

Josh shifted so that he was on his side, lying slightly across her on the sofa, settling one leg between both of hers. He placed a hand on her hip and pulled back, looking at her intently.

‘This is generally the quiet section of the evening… less talking, more action,’ he said softly, as he began to nibble at her neck whilst running a hand gently over her torso.

‘The thing is…’ Donna sighed, very quickly losing her train of thought as she felt his fingers graze her skin under her shirt.

‘What’s the thing?’ Josh asked quietly, in a tone of voice that made her shiver. She couldn’t see his face but she felt him grinning.

‘I’ve never been that good at quiet time,’ she groaned as she felt his hand graze the underside of her breast.

‘Why am I not surprised?’ he mumbled as his tongue gently traced its way along her neckline to her jaw.

Donna meanwhile had decided to pay attention to the fact that this was the ‘action’ portion of the evening, and began to run her hands under his sweater over his back. It was a really nice back, she reflected, feeling his muscles bunching under her fingers as she ran her hand around his side, up under his arm and back again. She heard him draw in a sharp breath and felt him flinch involuntarily as she brushed the back of her hand lightly across his stomach, dipping one finger just inside the waistband of his jeans.

‘That a sensitive spot for you, Josh?’ she really hadn’t meant for that to come out so breathlessly, but his hand had started moving across her bare stomach and the warmth of his touch had sent a shock tingling through her body. She almost whimpered when he stopped kissing her neck and pushed up to grin down at her.

‘You could say that whole area is pretty receptive to touch,’ he whispered huskily before leaning over again, this time settling so that he was half on top of her, and placing a series of feather light kisses on her lips, her cheek, her jaw. Donna slid her hand back up under Josh’s sweater and ran her fingers lightly up and down his spine. He groaned quietly and she felt him shudder at her touch - she could feel his erection pressing against her thigh, and she desperately wanted him to kiss her properly, wanted to feel the pressure of his mouth on hers. She felt him draw back again, and hearing him chuckling, opened her eyes.

‘Oh my God Lyman, you’re such a tease!’ she pouted, and Josh burst out laughing.

‘What?’ Donna gasped.

‘Didn’t realise how horny you were?’

‘Didn’t realise how much of a tease you are!’

‘You have no idea,’ he grumbled as she pulled him back down to her licking at his bottom lip, thrusting her tongue into his mouth, showing him what she needed.

‘Still seeking to control me, I see…’ Josh muttered against her lips when she finally let him up for air.

‘Yeah… but you love it…’ Donna replied, gently toying with the curls at the back of his neck.

‘The sad thing is that I do…’ he sighed, smiling gently. She smiled brightly at him and he realised that he was probably sporting his own version of her goofy grin.

‘OK. I think we need to get up now.’ Josh pulled back, clambered his way over her and stood up. Donna looked disappointed, immediately missing his warmth and the weight of his body pressing against hers.

‘But…’

‘No buts, Donna.’ He held out his hand. ‘C’mon.’

Reluctantly, she sat up and took his hand, and Josh could have sworn he heard her grumbling something like ‘I wasn’t done with you yet’ under her breath as he pulled her up off the sofa.

‘Can’t wait, huh?’ he grinned at her.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Get over yourself, would you?’

‘There’s someone else I’d much rather get over,’ he quipped, pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her hair.

Donna slapped his ass lightly at the dreadful double-entendre and then brought her hand up a bit higher and slid it down the back of his jeans, pulling him even closer, feeling the hard length of him pressing into her. Josh moaned, dropping a quick kiss on her lips.

‘Donna, Donna, Donna.’ He shook his head. ‘Skipping straight ahead to second base.’

‘Are you complaining?’ she arched an eyebrow at him.

‘Nope. Not at all, you skip ahead to any base you like,’ he said, kissing her again. ‘It’s just if you keep this up, you’re gonna kill me before we actually get to the bed, and I had a few things planned for *that* portion of the evening.’

‘Really?’

‘Oh yeah… you told me you roll and I wouldn’t want to miss that.’

‘That’s not all I do, you know…’ Pulling back slightly, she moved her hand to his belt buckle, ‘accidentally’ brushing her hand against the obvious bulge at the front of his jeans - and was surprised when he swatted her away.

‘Bed – now!’ he said urgently, and despite herself, Donna was thrilled by the forcefulness in his voice.

She arched an eyebrow as she looked him up and down. ‘You can actually walk in that state?’

‘Very funny – considering it’s all your fault!’

Before she could respond to that, however, Josh had put an arm around her back, the other under her legs and swung her up into his arms.

‘What the hell are you…?’

‘Hey! I hope you’re not insinuating I’m too old to sweep you off your feet?’ Donna dissolved into peals of laughter against his neck, as he walked down the hall, kicked open the bedroom door and dumped her unceremoniously on the bed.

‘Ooof!’

He grinned lopsidedly at her and stood by the side of the bed, hands on his hips. He looked down at Donna, propped up on her elbows, lying on *his* bed and thought he’d never seen anything so beautiful. His grin faded as she sat up and pulled her shirt over her head and then shimmied out of her pants to reveal the lacy underwear she’d selected with such care earlier. She realised she’d made a good choice – she seemed to have rendered the biggest mouth in Washington speechless for the second time that evening, and it felt pretty good. Josh was breathing rapidly, giving her a heated look that sent her libido into overdrive.

‘Josh…’ she whispered.

‘Hm?’

‘You gonna stand there and look or…?’

He sat on the edge of the bed next to her. ‘If I’d known all those years ago that you looked this good in your underwear, I’d never have hired you,’ he said, and she knew he was only half-joking.

‘Josh – ‘ she scooted closer to him and taking his chin in her hand, turned his face to hers. ‘We’re here now, and that’s all that matters, right? Everything we’ve been through – it wasn’t for nothing, OK? Because otherwise, we might not be here now.’

He leaned in then and kissed her, almost chastely this time, his lips moving gently on hers. When they broke apart, both breathing heavily, Donna tugged gently at his sweater.

‘Take it off, Josh,’ she said softly, ‘I want to see you.’ He didn’t say anything, just stood and did as she asked, pulling off his sweater and undershirt at the same time. The next time he saw Donna, he noticed she was biting her lip, a look of naked desire on her face.

‘What?’

Donna seemed to be having a hard time getting her eyes up as far as his face, but she got there eventually and smiled at him.

‘If I’d known you looked this good without your shirt on, I’d have gone to work for C.J.’

He snorted, and made to join her on the bed, but Donna stopped him with just a look.

‘What now?’

Donna looked pointedly at his groin. ‘Lose the pants.’

‘You’re a control freak, you know that?’

‘Spoken like one who knows…’

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah…’ Josh grumbled unconvincingly as he readily complied with her instructions.

‘OK now?’ As he stood there smirking, wearing just his boxers, hands on his hips, hair a mess, Donna thought she’d never seen anything so sexy in her life.

‘Perfect.’

‘Thank God.’

He covered her body with his, wanting to touch every inch of her, to love every inch of her, silently thanking whichever deity it was that had brought her back to him whole and wanting him. The sensation of her flesh against his was incredible, she was soft and warm, everything he’d known she’d be on those rare occasions he’d actually allowed himself to indulge in those kinds of thoughts about her. He kissed her again, and shifted slightly to the side so that he could run his hands over her body, gratified to hear her soft moans when his hands brushed against the lace of her bra.

‘Donna…’ he paused in the exploration of her collarbone he was making with his tongue. ‘You look fantastic in this, but…’ before he could finish, she’d reached behind her to unsnap the clasp and quickly slid the straps down her arms, dropping the bra onto the floor beside the bed.

‘…you’re … exquisite.’ Josh brought a hand up to cup her breast, his thumb brushing lightly across her nipple. She moaned loudly, and instinctively brought her fist to her mouth, to stifle the sound. Josh took her hand away. ‘Donna…please don’t… I want to hear you… it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.’

Donna gasped, as he began to move his hand further down her body. ‘I don’t think your neighbors would approve.’

‘To hell with the neighbors,’ Josh growled as he bent his head to nuzzle her breast and dipped his hand under the waistband of her panties.

Donna arched her back, helping him to take them off, moaning as he touched her, learning what she liked. She cried out as the intensity of the feelings building in her became too much until finally the dam burst and she was calling his name over and over…

When her breathing had evened out, she looked at Josh, who was propped up on one elbow smiling down at her, his other hand brushing lightly over her belly.

She couldn’t help but smile back.

‘Hey, you.’

His smile got wider, then he leaned down for a lingering kiss. Pulling back so that he could look at her again, Josh brushed a stray strand of hair off her face.

‘You OK?’ he asked.

‘No…’ she said, pulling him down for another kiss ‘… I’m much better than OK.’

This kiss was leisurely - hot, open-mouthed, tongues exploring, tangling together, neither of them able to get enough of the other.

‘Donna?’

‘I’m good’ she said in response to his unasked question. ‘You?’

‘Never better,’ he breathed as he sank into her slowly…

****************************

Panting heavily, Josh lowered himself gently, rolling to one side.

‘Donna…’

He could hear her trying to catch her breath too, as she lay on her back, one arm above her head, the other resting lightly on her stomach.

Josh propped himself on one elbow, and tenderly traced the line of Donna’s jaw with one finger. Turning onto her side to face him, she caught his hand, and brought it to her lips, kissing his palm, before placing it on her cheek and holding it there.

‘You know you’re everything to me, right?’ Josh asked her, softly.

She nodded. ‘And you know I love you?’

He smiled. ‘I think I got the general idea, yeah.’ He dropped a soft kiss on her lips. ‘I’m a happy guy.’

‘You’re really quite something,’ Donna teased, ‘when you’re not being, you know, you.’

‘Thanks… I think?’

Donna stifled a yawn, and shivered slightly at the same time.

‘Cold?’

‘A little.’

Josh got off the bed, and lifted the covers. ‘Get in, I’ll warm you up,’ he grinned.

Donna scooted under the covers and Josh slid in behind her, wrapping his body around hers, nuzzling the back of her neck.

‘So… what do you want to do tomorrow?’ Donna asked, sleepily, a languid smile on her face.

‘Are you kidding me? It took me nine years to get you here – you think I’m gonna let you out of this bed ever again?’ she felt his smile against the back of her neck and sighed contentedly, putting her arms over his which were wrapped around her waist.

‘ ‘s what I thought.’

Donna felt him drop a kiss on the back of her neck, and snuggled back against him.

‘Always thought you’d be a cuddler.’

Josh propped himself up on his elbow and gently pushed Donna’s shoulder so she rolled onto her back.
‘Always?’ he was grinning.

‘What? Oh come on – you can’t tell me you never thought about…’ she waved her hand between them ‘…this?’

*Only about five times an hour.* He pulled her into his arms and stroked her hair.

‘Of course I did. I’m just sorry –‘

She cut him off. ‘No, Josh. Don’t. I told you before – what matters is that we’re here now. I love you - I want to be with you and I’m happy. Let’s not rehash the past. We’ve both… done things we’re not so proud of, and I don’t want to think about that any more. Not now.’

Josh ran a finger down Donna’s cheek and leaned in to kiss her softly. ‘OK,’  he whispered against her lips. She smiled and turned back so that they could spoon together again. He took the advantage this position afforded him to kiss the back of her neck and along her shoulder.

‘Josh?’

‘Hm?’

‘How are we...? I mean, what do we do now?’

‘Now as in *now*, or now as in about half an hour?’ she felt him grinning, and swatted his leg gently.

‘Half an hour? That’s optimistic! I mean, you’re not twenty any more!’

‘That’s the second time tonight you’ve found a way to call me old! Keep that up and you won’t be getting any repeat performances.’ Donna snorted.

‘This from a man who said he couldn’t resist me.’

‘Yeah, well, I’ve had a lot of practice at self-restraint.’

Donna grinned wickedly, and wriggled her backside against him. ‘Not when I’m doing this, you haven’t!’

He moved his hand to her breast under the sheet, and began to kiss his way alongher shoulder, up her neck and gently sucked her earlobe into his mouth. Donna gasped, amazed that she was becoming aroused again so quickly – and wriggled again.

Josh chuckled against her neck. ‘Donnatella Moss, you’re an evil, evil woman.’

Donna turned to face him, pushing him onto his back and straddling him with one quick movement.

‘But…?’ she raised an eyebrow.

He sighed and pulled her down for a kiss.

‘I love it…’

She pushed herself up on his chest and traced a dimple with her finger. ‘I meant at work. What do we do…. About work?’

He tucked an arm under his head. ‘We just carry on as normal. Much as I’d like to shout about this from the rooftop of headquarters, I think we should try to fly under the radar for as long as we can. I’ll tell the Congressman and Leo, but other than that, if people find out, they find out – I’m not going to deny anything. Not any more. I’ve had enough denial to last a lifetime.’

She was silent for a moment, and Josh was worried he’d said the wrong thing.

‘Donna? This is important – I want to get this right. We’ll play it however you want, OK?’

She smiled. ‘You’re getting it right, Josh. ‘

He looked relieved. ‘Oh. OK’

Donna couldn’t resist him any more. He had looked so concerned at her question – his forehead crinkling in that way he had when he was seriously considering something – and then his words – he really could be very sweet sometimes.

She leaned in again, running her tongue over his bottom lip, nipping at it gently, licking, biting, sucking – then his hands were in her hair, on her ass, all over her, pulling her into him, and she could feel him stirring beneath her.

‘Really, Joshua…‘ she growled into his ear.

‘Don’t you dare make another crack about my age.’ He moved a hand to her breast.

Donna moaned. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it…’
The End

West Wing Fan Fiction: Glimpses of Everything and Nothing 6/7

Title: Glimpses of Everything and Nothing - Part 6/7
Author: Finn AUS
Rating: PG 13 (suggestive comments)
Spoiler Info: NO SPOILERS FOR THE COLD - Vaguely placed somewhere in Season Seven
Disclaimer: WB, NBC, Aaron Sorkin are the masterminds, John Wells is the minor-mind who had the good fortune to co-produce. I have no money, and even less with the US conversion rate so really not worth it.
Archiving permission: Awesome, please let me know so I can go look!
Summary: After a Republican makes suggestions about Donna and Josh's relationship in an attempt to derail the campaign, it forces them both to face the real truth.
Author Note 1: Praise of infinite proportions to Caz - especially her most excellent press release.
A/N 2: Another huge thanks for all the feedbackers. We are sneaking this baby home before the episode that will stop all in their tracks...or at least the West Wing fans.
Feedback: Love it like the upcoming episode goodness.


Lou sat tranquilly at the boardroom table drafting a press release and deciding which few trusted journalists would receive it first. The campaign offices were quiet, even for a Saturday with most of the staff having been given one last weekend off before the final push to election day. The next six weeks would consist of long hours, extensive travel and maybe, if they were lucky, a few hours sleep here and there. And in any case, she really didn’t want another public dissection of Josh and Donna’s complicated relationship.

Lou had immediately noticed the strained atmosphere between the two of them when she’d hired Donna. She’d heard the rumors – they were screwing, they weren’t screwing, they were married, divorced, Donna had Josh’s child early in the first term, and then some were too disgusting to contemplate. She had actually been a little bit apprehensive before meeting Donna – someone who had stayed with Josh Lyman for eight years was clearly either insane or a masochist. But Lou had been surprised, even shocked. Donna was eloquent, intelligent and had obviously gained an enormous amount of experience along the way. Still, Lou had been surprised when she had actually seen them together, however briefly. She’d been expecting some weird, political version of His Girl Friday and instead all she saw was open hostility and acute discomfort in each other’s presence. She could almost believe that maybe they had been together and the tension was the result of a vicious break-up. One day, she’d overheard a staffer saying that the fact that Josh Lyman had a ‘thing’ for his ex-assistant was one of the worst kept secrets in Washington. From what she’d seen recently though, Lou was pretty sure the only people from whom it had ever been a secret had been Josh and Donna themselves. On the rare occasions she was actually interested enough to bother thinking about it, it had amazed her that two such intelligent adults – well, maybe that was being charitable towards Josh, but… whatever - had spent the past nine years in total denial.

Shaking her head in disbelief, she heard the doors swing open and spotted Josh saunter into the office.
Someone got lucky last night, she thought to herself.

Dropping his backpack in his office, he looked around the empty space and spotted Lou in the boardroom.

‘Morning,’ he smiled brightly, wandering in with a fresh coffee.

‘Oh God, Joshua! What are you trying to do to me?’

‘What the hell are you talking about?’ he sat down opposite her.

‘Are you really that stupid? We sat here until the early hours of this morning listening to the two of you telling us there was nothing going on between you and now…’

‘What?’

‘Well, that self-satisfied grin for a start!’

‘I’m not-’

‘Come on, Josh! For the last few months you’ve been a miserable jackass. You yell, you curse, you sleep at the office, you’re cranky and the staff are running a pool to see if you’ll actually smile before election day! Now you stroll in here, bright and early on a Saturday morning grinning from ear to ear!’

‘And this makes me stupid how?’

‘It’s written all over your face. Something’s happened between you and Donna, hasn’t it?’

‘Yes. No – not in the way you mean … technically.’

Lou huffed and sat back in her chair, cocking an eyebrow at him.

‘You know, I really could care less about your personal life, but you’re treading a very fine line here.’

Josh opened his mouth to respond, but Lou silenced him with a look and continued. ‘You gave the Congressman a line to use in which you denied the two of you were romantically involved.’

‘Yes.’

‘But it’s not true!’

‘It was when we wrote it!’

Lou actually threw her head back and laughed.

‘Yeah, well that’s a big help. I’ll just say that shall I? “Josh Lyman and Donna Moss had no romantic inclinations towards each other until 8 hours ago.”’

‘Well that certainly isn’t true,’ Josh muttered under his breath.

Lou glared at him. ‘Not helping, Josh.’

‘Look, I know this isn’t going to be easy but we can do this. You know I’m telling you the truth – nothing inappropriate EVER happened between me and Donna whilst we working at the White House. She was my assistant on the Bartlet for America campaign and she was so…valuable…that I kept her on when we moved into the West Wing. But everything was official and above board – Leo had to sign off on it and you know there’s no way he’d have done that if there’d been any doubts as to her abilities. She worked for Russell, then you hired her – without telling me I might add – so we can refute the insinuations that she got here by …um…’

‘Sleeping with you.’

‘Exactly,’ Josh paused. ‘Anyway, I thought the whole idea was that we weren’t going to be deflected off message – just issue a denial and move on.’

‘Yes, well – that was before I saw your face this morning!’

‘Oh, for the love of …will you give that a rest?’

Lou was silent for a moment.

‘OK, look, I’ve been working on this,’ she pushed the pad she’d been scribbling on towards him. ‘The Congressman gave me some stuff he wanted included, I’ve added all the stuff we talked about last night about elitist Republicans and played down the stuff about you and Donna.’

Pulling out a pen, Josh scanned the closely written pages quickly, occasionally crossing something through, or adding comments here and there. Lou started absently flicking through some of her other files, and they sat there in silence for a few minutes until Josh reached the end of the last page and shuffled the pages together.

‘OK,’ he said, handing them back to her.

Lou flipped through the pages, noting Josh’s scribbled amendments.

‘A real politician’s denial,’ she said, flatly.

‘Yeah, well, I’m a politician, in case you hadn’t noticed.’

‘Hm…’

‘What is it now? Because I’m already pissed enough at the stuff that’s been thrown at us from the other side without it coming from you as well.’

‘As if you care what I think about your personal life.’

‘Well, I do care, much as I don’t want to,’ he admitted, begrudgingly. ‘I just don’t want you to get the wrong opinion of Donna. You already know I’m a jackass but she’s…she’s better than that.’

Lou rolled her eyes. ‘I really don’t think I can handle this sort of talk so early in the morning. At least not without a bucket within reach.’

At that moment Donna cleared her throat, alerting both Josh and Lou to her presence.

‘Sorry, thought it was best I speak up before …well you know,’ Donna entered the room hesitantly, well able to imagine what Josh and Lou must have been discussing.

‘Hi Donna,’ Lou said, a bit too brightly, Donna thought. ‘Josh was about to explain why you and he aren’t having a relationship.’

Donna shot a shocked glance in Josh’s direction.

‘No I wasn’t!’ his voice rose several decibels and at least an octave at the same time.

‘What were you going to say then?’ Lou asked.

‘I thought you didn’t care about my personal life,’ Josh insisted.

‘Personally I don’t. But professionally? I have to. Look you know there have been rumors about you for years, don’t you? So, and I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, it wouldn’t make much difference if you had been…you know…’

‘Lou, we weren’t, trust me. You think idiot boy over there would be smart enough to keep that a secret?’ Donna interrupted, pointing in Josh’s direction.

‘Hey!’ Josh whined. ‘I’m sitting right here’.

‘That’s true - undercover isn’t exactly his forte,’ Lou smirked at Donna.

‘I am an undercover genius - stealth is my middle name-’

‘You don’t have a middle name Josh,’ Donna retorted. ‘Listen Lou, Secret Agent Man here is telling the truth. Nothing actually happened until this morning and even that wasn’t much.’ Donna hoped she wasn’t blushing, as a memory of ‘not much’ made her feel suddenly warm.

‘Not if I had my-’

‘Josh!’ Donna scolded.

‘Well then, what the hell have you been doing for the past who knows how long?’ Lou was exasperated, and also a little bit dizzy; the pace of the back and forth between these two was lightening quick, and she could generally keep up with the best of them.

‘Keeping a secret,’ Josh stated.

‘Hang on, what secret have you been keeping for nine years, if you weren’t…you know?’ Lou was completely lost now.

‘That I love her.’ Josh said simply but it was tinged with a sweetness and sincerity Lou had never heard from him.

Donna almost couldn’t believe it either. The sweet side of Josh was normally something he kept well hidden, even from those who knew him best, yet he had just dropped his carefully preserved guard in front of Lou.

‘So you two have just admitted … this, and you pick now to do something about it?’

‘Yeah,’ they both nodded. Lou dropped her head into her hands and groaned – one more problem to worry about.

‘Okay,’ she looked up again, ‘we’ll take this one step at a time – just, for the love of God, don’t go all…you know…’ she waved a hand frantically from to the other.

‘What?’ They asked in unison.

‘Sappy! Don’t go all sappy on me! I really couldn’t handle the two of you being…’ she waved a hand around again ‘you know… sappy for the rest of this campaign!’

Josh sniffed. ‘Fantastic vocabulary skills - so glad you’re my Communications Director. And you can forget sappy. If you don’t think I’m here to win then we’ve got more trouble than worrying about me and Donna.’

‘After last night’s allegations about our so-called relationship affecting our work, you really think either one of us would allow that?’ Donna added.

Lou looked at both of them, noting the determined glare of professionalism etched across their faces.

‘Alright…but I’d better not see any public displays of affection,’ Lou warned.

‘You won’t,’ Donna replied firmly.

‘Really?’ Josh complained.

Leaning into Josh, as Lou refilled her coffee mug from the nearby pot, Donna whispered, ‘You won’t see any private displays of affection, if you don’t shut up.’

Donna was sitting at her desk, absent-mindedly tapping a pencil on the top.  She’d read the statement they were going to issue over and over – so many times that if asked, she could probably have recited it from memory. But she couldn’t let it go – perhaps changing a word here, moving a sentence there might… she sighed and read it through again.

"Joshua Lyman and Donna Moss have been friends and colleagues for a number of years, since they worked on the ‘Bartlet for America’ campaign in 1998.

They have great respect for each other, and regard themselves as close personal friends, but deny absolutely that there has ever been inappropriate conduct between them, or that they were engaged in a clandestine relationship during the time they worked at the White House.

When Mr Lyman was made Deputy Chief of Staff following President Bartlet’s election, Ms Moss was appointed his Senior Assistant, where she remained until leaving that position to work on Vice-President Robert Russell’s campaign to win the Democratic nomination for the Presidency.

Ms Moss is currently employed as Press Spokesperson on Congressman Matthew Santos’ presidential campaign, having been appointed to that position by the campaign’s Director of Communications, Louise Thornton. The details of Ms Moss’ interview and subsequent appointment are a matter of public record and are available through Ms Thornton’s office. Anyone who has ever met or worked with Ms Moss will know that she is a highly intelligent and capable individual and that her appointments to both the White House and the Santos campaign were made purely on merit."

Donna smiled at that last sentence, remembering the first time she’d read it, scrawled along the bottom of the page in Josh’s familiar handwriting.

"Congressman Santos has expressed himself appalled at the unsubstantiated slur on one of his staffers.
Ms Moss is a highly valued member of my team and to cast aspersions about her based on her lack of formal education is nothing short of scurrilous…"

‘It’s done, stop looking at it.’ Donna spun round at the sound of Lou’s voice.

‘But what about-?’

‘Donna, there are only so many ways we can spin this and I think we’re there. Any more work and it’s going to look like we’re trying too hard.’

Lou was standing impatiently in the doorway of Donna’s office, shrugging her coat onto her shoulders.

‘Seriously, you’ve spent all day working on education debate platforms, Josh has finally managed to access the interview records from the White House, which we can use if needs be – it’s done. Go home.’ As she said this, Josh appeared, backpack thrown over his shoulder, hair skewed in all directions, causing Donna to bite her bottom lip in a reflex effort to avoid smiling.

‘Come on Donna, it’s time to go,’ he called wearily.

‘Alright, I’m going now,’ Lou slung her bag over her shoulder. ‘I don’t want to see or hear from either of you until Monday morning, barring another scandal. Please no more scandals.’

‘Night Lou,’ Donna said as Lou turned to go. ‘And thanks.’

‘Yeah, well…whatever…’ She trudged off down the hall, wanting only a beer, a noisy bar and to indulge in some shameless flirting with a random stranger.

‘You think this will kill it?’ Donna asked hopefully, as she switched off her laptop and gathered some files.

‘Who knows?’ Josh sighed. ‘There’s always going to be questions, especially if ‘half of Washington’ thinks its true,’ he smirked.

‘See - what worries me now, is that a small part of you is proud that half of Washington is talking about you.’ Donna joined him on the walk towards the elevators.

‘I’m disappointed it’s only half! I’m important enough to warrant at least three quarters.’ Donna looked at the huge smirk on his face – and decided, reluctantly, not to avail herself of the easiest way of getting rid of it – at least not here.

‘Good God, you really are amazed by yourself sometimes, aren’t you?’

‘Like I told you, I really am quite something.’ She glared at him as they stepped into the elevator.

‘So,’ he cleared his throat, nervously, ‘you feel like some dinner at my place tonight? I’d also supply wine, which would constitute food and drink; and under the ‘Donna Moss Modern Woman Dating Agenda’, I believe that’s date two.’

‘You call making out in my kitchen having brought coffee and bagels a date?’ she laughed.

‘Yeah - and a damn good one, although I felt the coffee and bagels didn’t really, y’know, add all that much to it.’

‘Do you think it’s such a good idea with this thing breaking right now?’ Donna’s smile evaporated as the elevator doors opened and they began walking towards the parking lot.

‘I don’t think the National Enquirer’s going to be waiting in the bushes!’ Donna grimaced at Josh’s attempted joke.

‘Hey, it could be worse! Sam had a call girl as a girlfriend, remember?’ Donna stopped dead in her tracks, and stared dumbfoundedly at him. He’d gone on a few steps before realising Donna wasn’t beside him any more and then stopped.

Turning back towards her, he registered the look on her face, rapidly rewound the conversation and then - click.

He ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish as he stepped back towards her. ‘Yeah, there’s pretty much no way back from what I just said is there?’

‘Not really, no.’ Donna’s face had clouded over.

‘‘Kay so we’ll just ignore my stupidity. What I was going to say was it doesn’t matter because we’re not doing anything wrong.' Josh continued walking with Donna towards her car, and as they stopped beside it, she turned to face him.

If the story was going to break, there was nothing they could do to stop it and they’d already covered their options for damage control and then some. They’d denied, misdirected and waited for long enough – and she was tired of it.

‘Fine, I’ll be over there in an hour,’ Donna smiled and Josh practically jumped for joy. ‘And you might want to do some limbering up,’ she added.

‘What for?’ Josh grinned.

Dropping her voice to a husky whisper, she leaned towards him.

‘There could be some rolling.’

Continue on to Part 7 *Ratings warning, it gets steamy!

West Wing Fan Fiction: Glimpses of Everything and Nothing 5/7

Title: Glimpses of Everything and Nothing - Part 5/7
Author: Finn AUS
Rating: M15+ (Physical stuff but not too heavy yet)
Spoiler Info: Vaguely placed somewhere in Season Seven NO SPOILERS FOR THE COLD
Disclaimer: WB, NBC, Aaron Sorkin are the masterminds, John Wells is the minor-mind who had the good fortune to co-produce. I have no money, and even less with the US conversion rate so really not worth it.
Archiving permission: Awesome, please let me know so I can go look!
Summary: After a Republican makes suggestions about Donna and Josh's relationship in an attempt to derail the campaign, it forces them both to face the real truth.
Author Note 1: Praise of infinite proportions to Caz.
A/N 2: Another huge thanks for all the feedbackers - and you all finally get what you've been waiting for!
Feedback: Oh me-oh, Oh my-oh, Oh Cleveland, Ohio. Like a moth to a flame, like John Wells to an overly dramatic storyline, like Sorkin to a fantastically written script, I appreciate it beyond measure.


Donna had woken early, but felt not an ounce of fatigue. She was energized and she jumped happily out of bed and into the shower. Dressing casually in jeans and a light sweater, she did however pay special attention to her makeup, her hair and then spent a little time deciding on the right choice of perfume for the day, settling eventually on the essence of vanilla that Josh had once complimented her on. Just as she was beginning to gather her belongings together to head into the office early, she was startled by a knock at the door.

‘Hi.’ Josh was leaning against the doorframe, a dimpled grin spread across his face, holding out a tray of coffee and bagels.

‘Breakfast?’

Raising her eyes to his, Donna found it difficult to breathe and the buzzing in her ears almost deafened her. Realising that she really needed to say something, she said the first thing that came to mind.

‘How did you get in?’

A mischievous smirk greeted her as she stepped back to allow him into her apartment.

‘I slipped past someone on their way out.’ He strolled into her kitchen and she followed, kicking the door shut behind her. Placing the coffee and bagels on the counter, Josh turned to face her, leaning back against the counter. As he stood there, all smirk and self-satisfaction, Donna felt a familiar pang of desire, one she’d suppressed and ignored for the best part of nine years. He was wearing a well-fitting pair of jeans and the sleeves on the navy sweater that clung to the curves of his toned arms were pushed up haphazardly – it took a huge amount of willpower not to drag him into the bedroom there and then!

Josh was just standing there, surrounded by an air of contentment she hadn’t seen in a long time, when it struck Donna that she didn’t have to suppress that feeling any more – how she’d used to feel watching him walk down the hall, or what looking at him late at night by the light of his desk lamp did to her. So she finally gave in to nine years worth of unfulfilled urges and in one quick movement, placed her palms on his chest, leaned in and kissed him.

Josh was so staggered that for a second he just froze - but it was only a second before he wrapped his arms around Donna’s waist and returned her kiss. He couldn’t believe he was finally able to touch her, taste her; and he pulled her as close as he could, letting her warmth, her scent, the feeling of her body pressed against his overwhelm him. He felt as well as heard her moan as he gently ran his tongue over her bottom lip, and that small sound set him wondering what other sounds she would make – how his name would sound on her lips as she cried out in bed. He moved his hands slowly from her waist, running them through the soft hair trailing over her back, before placing one at the base of her throat and the other at the back of her head, holding her to him.

Deepening the kiss, he abandoned himself to the feeling of her lips moving against his, and as she opened her mouth to him eagerly, he wondered briefly how on earth he’d managed to go nine years without kissing her.

Donna finally broke the kiss, her need to breathe temporarily supplanting her need to keep on kissing Josh. Gently easing herself back, she couldn’t resist a playful nibble at his bottom lip on the way.

For a moment they simply stared at one another, both of them realising that they didn’t have to look away, didn’t need to hide from each other any more. They were both breathing heavily and Josh couldn’t help but be captivated by the look on Donna’s face. He’d always thought she was beautiful, but this…. her eyes were tinged with a deep blue, her cheeks were flushed, her hair was mussed and her mouth… her mouth was wet, her lips slightly swollen… she was exquisite. They stood together for a while as their breathing gradually returned to normal and Josh slid his hands back down to Donna’s waist. Affectionately, she pushed out of his embrace, hoping a little distance would cure this indescribable need to be constantly kissing him.

‘Thank God,’ Donna sighed with relief.

‘What for?’ Josh was utterly confused and Donna was reminded how adorable he could be when bewildered.

‘Imagine if after nine years that had been bad?’ she smiled brightly.

‘Oh…oh!’ Josh realised that there was a compliment in there somewhere, and as this dawned on him, his grin grew wider.

‘Right,’ Donna’s grin matched his. ‘So… that’s my coffee?’ She reached across the counter and helped herself to one of the cups. She needed to distract herself, to focus on something other than Josh’s mouth or the way his hands had felt on her body or … her self control was going to be in shreds and they’d never get to work today.

‘What?’ he exclaimed, attempting to reach out to her but finding himself rebuffed by her hand on his chest.

‘Forget that happened – just a momentary lapse … I’m focused now.’ She smiled cheekily at him and moved out of his range, leaning against the fridge.

‘Donna,’ he whined.

‘Josh, I’m a modern woman but you should know, I do require some sort of dating period here - some kind of occasion where you buy me food or drinks or even both.’

He gestured to the coffee she was drinking, and the bagels that lay untouched on the countertop. ‘Bagel - coffee. Food - drinks.’ He smirked proudly.

Donna rolled her eyes in exasperation – partly at him for being so smug, partly at herself for finding it so ridiculously charming.

She grew serious. ‘There’s also the matter of a hungry press looking for a scandal; this might not be the best time to roll into bed.’

‘Well, I guess you –‘ He quirked an eyebrow, distracted from his train of thought. ‘You roll?’

‘Josh,’ Donna sighed.

‘Okay, okay.’ He groaned and ran a hand through his hair – when suddenly he stopped mid-motion and his eyebrows shot up. A self-satisfied grin was spreading slowly across his face and immediately Donna was concerned. That look meant only one thing – victory.

‘What?’

‘Nothing, noooo, noooo, noo nothing at all,’ he shook his head vigorously.

‘Josh!’ She warned.

‘I’ll just be limbering up, to, you know, roll … with you.’

If there was such a thing as a verbal touchdown, Josh had just scored. Donna’s brain retraced its steps until – bed. Oh God – she’d just told Josh she was thinking about going to bed with him. And whilst the idea itself was not completely without merit, his knowing that that was what she’d been thinking was…. not good. He was going to be insufferable for the entire day…week… oh God, she might as well write off the whole month right now!

She pouted argumentatively, looking at him with displeasure and immediately Josh sensed he’d gone too far.
‘Donna, I’m such an idiot. Forget I said that, I was just being …well me…and I tend to run my mouth off…and this is all so huge…good huge…fantastic huge…but I’m going to suck at this and saying stupid things is my speciality especially with women so…if you…’he scrambled, drawing a breath and opening his mouth to start again.

‘Josh,’ Donna rolled her eyes again. ‘I’m willing to bet good money that won’t be the last time you say something stupid.’ She raised her hand as he sucked in a breath prior to launching into another rambling apology.

‘I know you love the sound of your own voice, but you really should learn when to just shut up,’ she instructed. She smiled and, pushing herself away from the fridge, moved back to stand in front of him.
Placing her coffee just beside him on the counter, she put ran a finger gently down his cheek. ‘I’m not saying never, I’m just saying we need a plan before we rush into anything.’ Donna was suddenly struck by an unfamiliar shyness at the implication behind her words and she looked away, fixing her gaze firmly on the floor.

Josh grinned, dimples making an appearance.

‘Firstly, nine years is hardly rushing, secondly, my plan would be to get back to the kiss-’

‘Josh!’ she groaned in mock horror nonetheless recognising his attempt to ease her shyness with humor.

Laughing, Josh felt a weight lifting from his shoulders, and felt as though he were breathing again for the first time in a long while. He closed the small distance between them and took both her hands.

‘Hey,’ he smiled, pulling her into his embrace and draping her arms around his neck.

‘Hi,’ she whispered.

‘I just remembered I came over here to give you some really important information.’

‘Oh,’ Donna was a little disappointed he wanted to talk about work.

‘Yeah,’ Josh spoke softly, his forehead resting against hers. Taking a deep breath, Donna got the distinct feeling he was working himself up to something. ‘I, ah…you know…I wanted to tell you I love you.’

Her answering smile took Josh’s breath away.

‘I knew that,’ she said impishly, pulling back to look at him, ‘and I… ‘ but before she could finish, she saw the look on Josh’s face, felt his eyes burning into hers, and the last thing she wanted to do was talk.

He was intoxicating – the way he tasted, the way he smelled, the firmness of his body against hers… she could feel her breathing quicken as a shiver of anticipation ran through her. Josh titled her face upward, softly brushing her lips with his, a kiss of promise, tenderness and of something far deeper. He pulled her closer, his hands cupping her face, as she leaned into him, pressing her weight against him, needing to feel him against her, all of him. Donna felt desire flood through her as Josh parted her lips with his tongue, and threaded the fingers of one hand into her hair. Feeling his other hand resting firmly on her hip, she brought one leg up to run it lightly up and down his, and was gratified to hear him gasp at the sensation. Feeling light-headed, Donna started to let her hands roam freely across his body – up and down his arms, across his shoulders, over his toned back, finally hooking a finger into the belt loop on his jeans. She pulled away from Josh’s mouth with a loud sigh when she felt the hand that had been in her hair move to the base of her neck – the first touch of his warm hand on her exposed skin was electrifying and the next minute, he had replaced his hand with his mouth and was lazily nibbling his way down her exposed throat. She was suddenly thinking that maybe her dating idea hadn’t been such a good one after all, because if Josh could make her feel like this after just two kisses, then she didn’t know how much longer she could wait to find out what else he could do. Donna’s stomach lurched as she realised he was as aroused as she was – she could feel his hardness pressing into her hip, and felt herself blushing at the realisation that she could affect him like that. Running her fingers through Josh’s hair with one hand, Donna boldy grabbed his ass with the other, wanting to feel him as close to her as possible, and felt him moan with pleasure into her mouth.

Josh was beginning to wonder where the nearest flat surface might be, when the buzzing of a vibrating cellphone on the counter interrupted them. Breaking apart, they both tried to catch their breath, neither dropping the other’s gaze. After a couple of seconds, Josh groaned and snapped open the phone.

‘Yeah?’ he answered, still slightly breathless.

‘Did I wake you?’ Lou asked, typically jumping straight into the conversation.

‘No, I was awake,’ Josh winked at Donna.

‘So you should be, now get your ass down here. You’ve got work to do,’ Lou directed.

‘I am your boss you know?’ Josh reminded her good naturedly.

‘Whatever you say.’ Lou was clearly distracted, probably reading five documents at once.

‘Okay, I’m on my way.’

‘Do you know if Donna’s coming in too?’ she quizzed him.

‘How would I know what Donna’s doing? Josh looked at Donna, raising his eyebrows.

‘You answered her phone - generally she’s with her phone.’

As Josh slapped his hand to his face and ran it across his eyes, Donna looked up, surprised.

‘Yeah, okay, see you soon.’ Josh closed the phone, staring at the offending item for a good few minutes.

‘Okay so Lou knows something’s going on,’ he smiled sheepishly.

‘How?’ Donna almost squealed, choking on her coffee.

‘I answered your phone.’

‘What?’

‘Yep, your phone, I kinda answered it,’ he chuckled.

‘But…how…Josh!?’ Donna was flummoxed.

‘Donna, its fine.’

‘Josh, Lou has just pieced together the easiest cryptic puzzle known to man and now probably thinks we’ve been having sex all night long and into the morning!’

‘You’re the one who said no!’ he was grinning again.

‘Josh! No one was supposed to know.’

‘I think Donna, the ship has pretty much sailed on that one,’ he rested one hand lightly on her shoulder, gently placing a stray blonde tuft of hair behind her ear with the other.

‘It’s fine - Lou was going to have to know anyway. Let’s just go into the office, organise a strategy about how to handle everything and then come home and have sex all night long and into the morning.’ Josh grinned and reached for his keys and coffee.

Donna jabbed her finger into his chest.

‘Keep talking like that and you’ll be having a lonely little night, Mr Lyman.’

Continue on to Part 6