Title: Crossing the line
Author: Mcwillow22 (aka: littlestarling)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jed/Donna
Spoilers: AU
Summary: 'And then he was taking the last step. His body mere inches from
her own. This was the line. The crossing point'
Feedback: Yes please
Email: clairesmail@email.com
Disclaimer: I do not lay claim to any of the characters portrayed here,
they belong to a bunch of people who have more money than me, so please
don't sue.
A/n: This is my first foray into the world of Jed/Donna, so please be
gentle with me. This is a pairing I have had great enjoyment reading
about, so I thought I'd give it a go myself. All feedback is truly
appreciated. x
It was bitterly cold. He would have called it fresh of course but to any other person it was a freezing cold November night and not the best of conditions to be standing still outside. But that's where she found herself at this particular moment. Standing, feet firmly rooted or stuck to the spot, either were within the realms of possibility in these conditions. On each outward breath a small cloud of sparkling white left her mouth, lingered, and then disappeared into the surrounded darkness, perfection devoured by the still black around her. It was entertaining for a while but soon lost it's charm, especially when the pain in her fingers became insistent, demanding her attention to be drawn to them. She rubbed her palms together, her skin feeling smoother than normal, cold, clean, as though purified by the surrounding ice. The act of motion did little to ease the numbness in her fingertips, but in itself gave her something to do, something to concentrate on, a welcome distraction from the nerves jittering around her body. She shuffled her feet slightly too, to get the blood flowing once more to her toes, but the ice below her weight shifted with the motion, the noise of it seemingly too loud in the quiet surroundings, so much so that she ceased immediately, scared of drawing too much attention to herself. It was a silly sentiment she knew, a childlike paranoia, consciously she knew that at least fourteen people knew her location, and in all probability, probably more. But those people would never speak of this night; after all they were sworn not too. These thoughts were what made her jittery in the first place, were what brought her out in the cold without a jacket. Those thoughts made what was happening too real. And reality was too much for her to deal with at that moment. She needed the crisp air around her, she needed the small clouds of diamonds to form in front of her, and she needed to not think of what was happening else she would simply run in the opposite direction. She didn't need to look up to know that there would be stars out tonight. It was simply too cold for there not to be.
And then she felt it.
A shift in the air around her, the tiniest sound of ice crushed under feet. A thick tendril of fear made its way from the pits of her stomach to her throat, almost stealing the breath from her numbed lungs, making her breathe slightly harder to catch it. Her eyes closed automatically, and her lips parted to allow more oxygen to her body. She knew he was behind her, if she concentrated enough she could feel the heat of his body radiate to swallow her, to bathe her. A hard shiver made its way hurriedly from her shoulders to her knees, and she knew this time it wasn't the cold to blame. The ice around her shifted again and this time she held her breath, her ears picking up every little crack and crunch as he made his way around her, unhurriedly, to eventually stand in front of her.
"Breathe"
It was no more than a husky whisper, but it shocked her none the less, forcing the icy air that had been trapped in her lungs to expel rapidly, only to draw more in. For what seemed like an eternity there was stillness around her, stretched so much that she almost believed she had imagined it. She hadn't known she had been gripping herself so tightly until a warm hand peeled one of her own away from her body. Her eyes remained closed, but she didn't need to open them to know what she would see. Her other senses told her everything she needed to know. She felt him turn her hand and trace her palm with a finger, his larger hand cradling her own, warm and strong against her smaller, colder one.
"Open your eyes"
The level of his voice hadn't changed but his words were clearer, firmer. She hesitated, her clear forehead wrinkling slightly as she fought an inner struggle. To open her eyes would make what was happening reality. She shivered again. And then slowly, as though scared of what she might find, she opened her eyes, her vision momentarily blurry, but clearing quickly to reveal him standing in front of her, one hand tucked into his trouser pocket the other still holding her own. Her breath again caught in her throat as she realised what was happening, and in a fit of nervousness and slight fear she yanked her own hand away from him and stepped back, putting the correct distance between herself and this man that had filled so many of her dreams. Her hands played nervously together in front of her, and her feet shuffled nervously back and forward, the crunch of the snow no longer paid any heed. As much as she would have liked to, she found she couldn't take her eyes away from him. He hadn't moved any except to slip his discarded hand into his pocket to mirror the other. He stood relaxed, a surprise to her for what she had just done. He wore black suit trousers and a crisp white shirt, slightly wrinkled around the edges, evidence of a hard days work. He wore no jacket but that wasn't a surprise for her. And in any case she could not comment, for she herself wore only a backless black dress. His collar was undone and his hair slightly mussed, falling forward slightly to touch his forehead. But it was his face that held her transfixed. His eyes, studying her intently, shining in the light cast by the great house whose shadow they stood in, his cheeks tinted red, his mouth turned up slightly on one side, showing tolerance, patience and amusement. She wasn't sure how much time had passed but she did know that she had calmed somewhat. Her breathing had levelled out, her hands had fallen to her sides, and her shoulders had slackened slightly, allowing her posture to relax a little. It was hard, she mused, to see the man and not what it was he represented. Even now, when he looked like any other, he still had something in his eyes, in his posture, in his being that spoke of power, of intelligence and leadership. She tilted her head slightly. It was hard to imagine him never being where he was. She watched as the slight curve to his lip grew slightly and realised that she was openly studying him.
" I'm sorry"
Her voice sounded strange to her ears, timid, low, wavering, something that had never happened before she realised. Even in the present company.
" Don't be."
His voice. Rich, deep, familiar, capable of bringing the world to it's knees yet to her, a caress. She shivered again, a shiver great enough to rattle her teeth.
" You must be freezing cold. Do you want to go inside? It's ok if you don't"
Her head turned towards the door that she had escaped from what felt like a lifetime ago. A warm orange light filtered through the ancient glass and drapes, highlighting a black silhouette a little ways down. She had been aware of their presence when she had first fled the warmness of the room, but it was still a shock to see them standing so near, still, black, like timeless statues in a historic building. She would never escape their sight, he would never be without them she knew, but it was still disconcerting to know that there were spectators to this night. Another shiver wracked her body, and this time she moved, one foot in front of the other. She didn't look to him for permission, didn't look to see if he was following, and in some part of her mind, a part that screamed hesitance and logic, she silently wished he would not. It would make it so much easier if he simply closed the door behind her and went on his way.
The heat from the room bit into her skin as she entered, encasing her as she moved further in, causing goose bumps to rise over her arms and back. The click of the door as it was closed made her jump but she didn't turn around. Instead she moved further into the room, her eyes skirting over the ancient furniture, the familiar paintings adorning the walls and the beautiful red carpet below her feet. It was a room she had never seen before, a room that wasn't available to either the staff or the public. She wasn't sure it actually had a formal name, but she imagined it didn't have a function per say, just one of many rooms in this house whose main role was simply to exist.
"Donna."
Her name. His voice. Louder in here than on the icy walkway outside, caused her heart to flutter below her chest, both nerves and excitement warring with each other, sending her stomach into spasms. She gave herself a few precious seconds before she spun slowly to face him, her dress whispering across the carpet. They stood some distance apart, but even at this side of the room she could feel the heat from him, could see it in his eyes. As if transferred, heat began to pool within her too, settling on places in her body that she had dreamed he had touched. And then he was silently crossing the distance, closing it, his steps slow but confidant, his eyes never wavering from her own.
She knew what was going to happen tonight. Had both silently begged for it and prayed for it not too. It was wrong, on so many different levels. He was still legally married for one. It didn't matter to those who would use it against him that his marriage had ended two years ago, the day he had sworn to serve his country a second time. It also wouldn't matter to the public if they ever found out. They would condemn him. As would the church he so loyally served. His own religious beliefs screamed against it. Then there were his family. His own offspring and his extended family, his staff. Would they understand she wondered? Would they be happy that they both could find happiness with each other or would they too sentence them? Would they shun her? Would he loose their respect? So many questions fought for answers inside her own mind. Had they noticed before now the looks traded? The smiles shared? They must have noticed the extra time she herself had spent in his office. Would that have confirmed their suspicions? That the President of the United States would seek council from an assistant?
He stopped two paces away from her, his eyes finally leaving her own to travel over her body. She watched, a slight blush highlighting her cheeks, at the desire shown clearly on his face. This was the first time they had been absolutely alone. Was the first time she had seen the emotions displayed so evidently on his face. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. Could she do this? At this point she knew there was still time to go back. The line had not yet been crossed. She had done nothing that constituted a break in position. Could she be a part of his eventual condemnation? Could she play her part in perhaps destroying forever what was left of his thirty-five year relationship with Abbey? But she could not deny her feelings. What had started out as lust had grown over the weeks. Not quite love but something similar was how she would describe it. She could lie to anyone who would ask but she couldn't lie to herself, his power was a part of it. It was hard for it not to be; after all it was such a big part of him. But that would not be attractive if it weren't coupled with his personality. His joviality, intelligence, charm and wit were what got him were he was, and it was a lethal combination for the heart.
And then he was taking the last step. His body mere inches from her own. This was the line. The crossing point.
His eyes studied hers intently, not giving her any chance to think. Her eyes dropped from his and refocused on his lips. So close. But he wouldn't make that final move. He had done everything else. He had arranged the meeting under the pretence of a friendly chat after a state dinner, had sent the agent to escort her to this very room. He had conveyed all his feelings without saying a word. And she had yet to utter a sound except to apologise and stutter. No, he wouldn't cross that line.
She breathed deeply. Aftershave and something distinctly him, something enticing, something dangerous. Perhaps this would become their undoing; perhaps in time she would look back and curse herself for her weakness and stupidity. Perhaps too he would feel regret. Maybe even as soon as the morning. Perhaps they would both be condemned. But there was always a tiny chance, a miniscule flip side that promised better things. Promised the beginning of something extraordinary, something that would change their lives for the better. Promised of happiness and contentment. Promised the chance of a dream come true. She saw the slight twitch of his lips and knew that he had seen in her eyes the crossing of the line.
She closed the distance between them with confidence, her lips finding his with none of the hesitancy she had experienced these past few minutes, past few hours, past few weeks. His arms held her tight too him, strong and determined, and her hands clung to his shirt, passionate and sure.
Perhaps it wasn't love.but it was something very like it.
It was bitterly cold. He would have called it fresh of course but to any other person it was a freezing cold November night and not the best of conditions to be standing still outside. But that's where she found herself at this particular moment. Standing, feet firmly rooted or stuck to the spot, either were within the realms of possibility in these conditions. On each outward breath a small cloud of sparkling white left her mouth, lingered, and then disappeared into the surrounded darkness, perfection devoured by the still black around her. It was entertaining for a while but soon lost it's charm, especially when the pain in her fingers became insistent, demanding her attention to be drawn to them. She rubbed her palms together, her skin feeling smoother than normal, cold, clean, as though purified by the surrounding ice. The act of motion did little to ease the numbness in her fingertips, but in itself gave her something to do, something to concentrate on, a welcome distraction from the nerves jittering around her body. She shuffled her feet slightly too, to get the blood flowing once more to her toes, but the ice below her weight shifted with the motion, the noise of it seemingly too loud in the quiet surroundings, so much so that she ceased immediately, scared of drawing too much attention to herself. It was a silly sentiment she knew, a childlike paranoia, consciously she knew that at least fourteen people knew her location, and in all probability, probably more. But those people would never speak of this night; after all they were sworn not too. These thoughts were what made her jittery in the first place, were what brought her out in the cold without a jacket. Those thoughts made what was happening too real. And reality was too much for her to deal with at that moment. She needed the crisp air around her, she needed the small clouds of diamonds to form in front of her, and she needed to not think of what was happening else she would simply run in the opposite direction. She didn't need to look up to know that there would be stars out tonight. It was simply too cold for there not to be.
And then she felt it.
A shift in the air around her, the tiniest sound of ice crushed under feet. A thick tendril of fear made its way from the pits of her stomach to her throat, almost stealing the breath from her numbed lungs, making her breathe slightly harder to catch it. Her eyes closed automatically, and her lips parted to allow more oxygen to her body. She knew he was behind her, if she concentrated enough she could feel the heat of his body radiate to swallow her, to bathe her. A hard shiver made its way hurriedly from her shoulders to her knees, and she knew this time it wasn't the cold to blame. The ice around her shifted again and this time she held her breath, her ears picking up every little crack and crunch as he made his way around her, unhurriedly, to eventually stand in front of her.
"Breathe"
It was no more than a husky whisper, but it shocked her none the less, forcing the icy air that had been trapped in her lungs to expel rapidly, only to draw more in. For what seemed like an eternity there was stillness around her, stretched so much that she almost believed she had imagined it. She hadn't known she had been gripping herself so tightly until a warm hand peeled one of her own away from her body. Her eyes remained closed, but she didn't need to open them to know what she would see. Her other senses told her everything she needed to know. She felt him turn her hand and trace her palm with a finger, his larger hand cradling her own, warm and strong against her smaller, colder one.
"Open your eyes"
The level of his voice hadn't changed but his words were clearer, firmer. She hesitated, her clear forehead wrinkling slightly as she fought an inner struggle. To open her eyes would make what was happening reality. She shivered again. And then slowly, as though scared of what she might find, she opened her eyes, her vision momentarily blurry, but clearing quickly to reveal him standing in front of her, one hand tucked into his trouser pocket the other still holding her own. Her breath again caught in her throat as she realised what was happening, and in a fit of nervousness and slight fear she yanked her own hand away from him and stepped back, putting the correct distance between herself and this man that had filled so many of her dreams. Her hands played nervously together in front of her, and her feet shuffled nervously back and forward, the crunch of the snow no longer paid any heed. As much as she would have liked to, she found she couldn't take her eyes away from him. He hadn't moved any except to slip his discarded hand into his pocket to mirror the other. He stood relaxed, a surprise to her for what she had just done. He wore black suit trousers and a crisp white shirt, slightly wrinkled around the edges, evidence of a hard days work. He wore no jacket but that wasn't a surprise for her. And in any case she could not comment, for she herself wore only a backless black dress. His collar was undone and his hair slightly mussed, falling forward slightly to touch his forehead. But it was his face that held her transfixed. His eyes, studying her intently, shining in the light cast by the great house whose shadow they stood in, his cheeks tinted red, his mouth turned up slightly on one side, showing tolerance, patience and amusement. She wasn't sure how much time had passed but she did know that she had calmed somewhat. Her breathing had levelled out, her hands had fallen to her sides, and her shoulders had slackened slightly, allowing her posture to relax a little. It was hard, she mused, to see the man and not what it was he represented. Even now, when he looked like any other, he still had something in his eyes, in his posture, in his being that spoke of power, of intelligence and leadership. She tilted her head slightly. It was hard to imagine him never being where he was. She watched as the slight curve to his lip grew slightly and realised that she was openly studying him.
" I'm sorry"
Her voice sounded strange to her ears, timid, low, wavering, something that had never happened before she realised. Even in the present company.
" Don't be."
His voice. Rich, deep, familiar, capable of bringing the world to it's knees yet to her, a caress. She shivered again, a shiver great enough to rattle her teeth.
" You must be freezing cold. Do you want to go inside? It's ok if you don't"
Her head turned towards the door that she had escaped from what felt like a lifetime ago. A warm orange light filtered through the ancient glass and drapes, highlighting a black silhouette a little ways down. She had been aware of their presence when she had first fled the warmness of the room, but it was still a shock to see them standing so near, still, black, like timeless statues in a historic building. She would never escape their sight, he would never be without them she knew, but it was still disconcerting to know that there were spectators to this night. Another shiver wracked her body, and this time she moved, one foot in front of the other. She didn't look to him for permission, didn't look to see if he was following, and in some part of her mind, a part that screamed hesitance and logic, she silently wished he would not. It would make it so much easier if he simply closed the door behind her and went on his way.
The heat from the room bit into her skin as she entered, encasing her as she moved further in, causing goose bumps to rise over her arms and back. The click of the door as it was closed made her jump but she didn't turn around. Instead she moved further into the room, her eyes skirting over the ancient furniture, the familiar paintings adorning the walls and the beautiful red carpet below her feet. It was a room she had never seen before, a room that wasn't available to either the staff or the public. She wasn't sure it actually had a formal name, but she imagined it didn't have a function per say, just one of many rooms in this house whose main role was simply to exist.
"Donna."
Her name. His voice. Louder in here than on the icy walkway outside, caused her heart to flutter below her chest, both nerves and excitement warring with each other, sending her stomach into spasms. She gave herself a few precious seconds before she spun slowly to face him, her dress whispering across the carpet. They stood some distance apart, but even at this side of the room she could feel the heat from him, could see it in his eyes. As if transferred, heat began to pool within her too, settling on places in her body that she had dreamed he had touched. And then he was silently crossing the distance, closing it, his steps slow but confidant, his eyes never wavering from her own.
She knew what was going to happen tonight. Had both silently begged for it and prayed for it not too. It was wrong, on so many different levels. He was still legally married for one. It didn't matter to those who would use it against him that his marriage had ended two years ago, the day he had sworn to serve his country a second time. It also wouldn't matter to the public if they ever found out. They would condemn him. As would the church he so loyally served. His own religious beliefs screamed against it. Then there were his family. His own offspring and his extended family, his staff. Would they understand she wondered? Would they be happy that they both could find happiness with each other or would they too sentence them? Would they shun her? Would he loose their respect? So many questions fought for answers inside her own mind. Had they noticed before now the looks traded? The smiles shared? They must have noticed the extra time she herself had spent in his office. Would that have confirmed their suspicions? That the President of the United States would seek council from an assistant?
He stopped two paces away from her, his eyes finally leaving her own to travel over her body. She watched, a slight blush highlighting her cheeks, at the desire shown clearly on his face. This was the first time they had been absolutely alone. Was the first time she had seen the emotions displayed so evidently on his face. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. Could she do this? At this point she knew there was still time to go back. The line had not yet been crossed. She had done nothing that constituted a break in position. Could she be a part of his eventual condemnation? Could she play her part in perhaps destroying forever what was left of his thirty-five year relationship with Abbey? But she could not deny her feelings. What had started out as lust had grown over the weeks. Not quite love but something similar was how she would describe it. She could lie to anyone who would ask but she couldn't lie to herself, his power was a part of it. It was hard for it not to be; after all it was such a big part of him. But that would not be attractive if it weren't coupled with his personality. His joviality, intelligence, charm and wit were what got him were he was, and it was a lethal combination for the heart.
And then he was taking the last step. His body mere inches from her own. This was the line. The crossing point.
His eyes studied hers intently, not giving her any chance to think. Her eyes dropped from his and refocused on his lips. So close. But he wouldn't make that final move. He had done everything else. He had arranged the meeting under the pretence of a friendly chat after a state dinner, had sent the agent to escort her to this very room. He had conveyed all his feelings without saying a word. And she had yet to utter a sound except to apologise and stutter. No, he wouldn't cross that line.
She breathed deeply. Aftershave and something distinctly him, something enticing, something dangerous. Perhaps this would become their undoing; perhaps in time she would look back and curse herself for her weakness and stupidity. Perhaps too he would feel regret. Maybe even as soon as the morning. Perhaps they would both be condemned. But there was always a tiny chance, a miniscule flip side that promised better things. Promised the beginning of something extraordinary, something that would change their lives for the better. Promised of happiness and contentment. Promised the chance of a dream come true. She saw the slight twitch of his lips and knew that he had seen in her eyes the crossing of the line.
She closed the distance between them with confidence, her lips finding his with none of the hesitancy she had experienced these past few minutes, past few hours, past few weeks. His arms held her tight too him, strong and determined, and her hands clung to his shirt, passionate and sure.
Perhaps it wasn't love.but it was something very like it.