Title: Under Rain Clouds

Author: brightblue

Spoilers: General knowledge through season 6.

Category: J/D, fluff

Summary: Donna gets a little frisky in the rain. Fluff without plot.

Note: Takes place in an alternate season 6 wherein J/D got their acts together sometime around King Corn and are carrying on a secret affair amidst the two campaigns. I have a whole idea regarding this premise but as it is unlikely to ever be put to word processor, this nugget of it will have to suffice. Imagine the rest.

A.N.: I haven't written in, well, a year or two. Yesterday, this just fell out of my brain. In an effort to get some actual work done, I've decided to post this brain fart so I will stop fiddling with it. (Really, it has become the paper on which I doodle today.) Hope it's not too fluffy but, well, that's what I was feeling. Also, it's un-beta'd so all errors and moments of crap are my own fault. Lyrics are from "Singin' in the Rain", but you should know that! Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

I'm laughing at clouds/ so dark up above

"It's pouring!"

"An astute observation worthy of a Fulbright Scholar there, Josh," Donna replied, any hint of the surprise she also felt at the turn in the weather covered with a masterful deadpan delivery.

Indeed, in the hour or so they had spent holed up in Rick's Roadside Tavern, enjoying the soggiest steak fries north of Lansing, a storm had rolled in. Lightning blinked in the dark clouds, illuminating the muddy mess stretched out ahead of them. They had chosen to meet at this bar due to its off-the-beaten-campaign-trail location and dark corners. In retrospect, a paved parking lot should have been brought into consideration.

"Hey! No one likes a smart aleck." Josh slipped his sunglasses in his jacket pocket, squinting into the rain. He began to pace the small doorway to the tavern. At least it had an awning, Donna noted. And the air was fresh, a much better alternative to the bar which likely hadn't been exposed to fresh air since Kennedy was in office. "What the hell are we supposed to do? Do you have an umbrella?" Josh was getting irate and irrational now.

The look on Donna's face as Josh looked her up and down telegraphed all he needed to know. She had left her purse in the car. And, no, she did not have one of those miracle mini umbrellas stashed in her new and about to be ruined Banana Republic suit. Josh let out an exasperated sigh; his fingers wore grooves in his already disheveled hair.

Donna couldn't help but smirk at this familiar behavior. The man was single-handedly pushing a dark horse candidate towards presidential victory without breaking much of a sweat, but something so small as a rainy day had the ability to throw him completely. She supposed it was because he hadn't learned to negotiate with storm clouds…yet.

"Don't be such a spoilsport, Josh. We can make a run for it!" Their cars were less than a hundred feet away. At opposite ends of the small parking lot, of course. True, there was no way to avoid the giant mud-filled potholes and at the rate the rain was falling they'd be soaked to the bone in seconds, but there was a certain hum in the air that made Donna want to embrace the sky. She loved thunderstorms.

Josh looked at her as if she had suggested climbing up the nearest evergreen with a metal pole. "But…I just had this suit dry-cleaned."

"And my only pair of brown heels will be ruined. But it doesn't seem like it will let up any time soon. What choice do we have?" Every nerve cell in her body was locked and loaded; she had the urge to sprint. She bounced on her feet, eager to ruin her shoes. They gave her blisters, anyway.

"We could wait it out?" He offered with a shrug. A slow grin graced his features. Her whole body pulsed—something about the rain and boyish grins was making her light-headed.

She put her foot down, stomped more like, and refused to go back into that dungeon of a joint no matter how many steak fries he promised her. He seemed amused by her childish behavior and she couldn't help but smile back at him. Thunder rumbled in the distance but she was happy as she'd ever been. Campaign strategies, polling data, and another slave-driving boss who didn't have the advantage of dancing eyes all seemed miles away.

"C'mere," he whispered as he pulled her into his arms. She went without protest. She liked this newly discovered magnetic field between their bodies. With it came this constant, irresistible push to touch him not always convenient for a clandestine romance. His arms were warm and solid. She inhaled his scent; found it lurking beneath hours of stress and a smoky dinner. For a moment they were the eye of the storm, calm and peaceful. Content.

"I know how we can pass the time." She could feel rather than see his leer. She chuckled, unsurprised. Josh only did calm and peaceful for so long. He sprinkled kisses on her neck. Nipped the sensitive flesh with his teeth so that her body tingled.

"The storm could go on all night," she reminded in her mother hen intonation, but her hands betrayed the tone of her voice. She wasn't done marking him as hers yet, probably never would be, so she catalogued the feel of his muscles beneath his damp shirt. Tasted the humidity on his jaw. Mine, mine, mine, she thought and urged him closer. It was still a dizzying concept.

"Mmm, promise?" He backed her up against the building, mindful of the door and the sharp brick. She could not have cared less. Their mouths fused together. She yanked the shirttails out of his pants and shimmied her hands under his t-shirt because a suit-and-tie Josh did not have enough readily available skin. Their bodies moved in the shadow of a rhythm they'd too newly mastered but had been developing for years.

A bolt of lightning cracked a tree somewhere in the nearby woods. The rain became frenzied.

Donna laughed, suddenly giddy out of her mind, and pushed Josh away from her. Startled, he tumbled backwards and out from under the awning. Ankle deep in water and mud, soaked completely through, he struggled to form words. They came out in huffs and sputters. For the first time in years, Donna found herself giggling uncontrollably.

Finally, Josh found his voice and it was the one that bellowed. "Donnatella Moss, your ass is grass!" The words were largely swallowed up by the wind and trees, but the effect was had. He came charging at her, a waterlogged puppy dog, and Donna had no choice but to turn tail and run.

The rain was glorious. Donna was beaming. Josh was still stomping through the mud, pissed but well on his way to amused. She'd never felt so wonderful and free and in-the-moment in her life. It was electric.

She ran. He chased. Until it became the other way around and then they weren't sure who was chasing whom and in a tangle of wet clothes and grasping hands and belly-deep laughter (a bit rusty from years of hibernation), they finally caught each other.

They stopped to kiss in the rain, of course.

Deep, wet, sloppy kisses that Donna had trouble not laughing through. She felt all of sixteen again, though she was definitely, definitely not. She'd earned this moment through years of being knocked down, put upon, and made insignificant. She'd taken leaps of faith, leaps of courage, and hurdled through years of denied and unrequited love for this moment. She'd survived bullet holes and car bombs for this moment. And she'd do it all over again if it meant one more moment like this in her lifetime.

Sensing her internal retreat, Josh slowly pulled away. They rested their foreheads together, eyes closed, to catch their breath.

"How ya doin'?" He asked when she met his eyes. His face was bright and happy. Donna smiled. Their bodies swayed to the beat of the storm-- slow dancing, almost. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Little streams of water ran down his face.

"We're making out in a parking lot in the middle of a thunderstorm."

"Never done that before," he smirked.

Donna kissed a dimple. "Neither have I." She kissed the other one.

"I'm all wet," he sighed, dropping his arms at his side.

Donna chuckled and murmured, "me too," into his neck, thrusting her hips into his. Josh groaned and kissed her fiercely.

Thunder clapped, the wind roared, and the rain kept pouring down. But they remained until, finally, startled by a flash of lightning illuminating the night, they pulled apart.

"We're going to get electrocuted out here." He tried to pry her off him, but Donna was quite practiced on holding her ground. They kissed some more, but soon Josh's grumbling about mud in his shoes ruined the moment. Donna allowed that the rain was starting to get a bit cold, but stole another kiss from Josh anyway-- just because she could.

"Josh, since when did you become the ruiner-of-all-fun?" Donna pouted, but let him walk her towards her car.

"Since fun became tantamount to catching pneumonia?" Josh guided her to rest on the side of her rental car. Leaning into her, he gently brushed the wet strands of hair off her face. "Put the heat on full blast on the way back to the hotel, okay? Then a hot shower."

"Yes, mom," she teased. Placated, he whispered something distinctly non-parental into her ear and Donna decided a cold shower would be more in order.

But a lightning bolt slicing across the sky brought Josh back to Mission: Ruin The Moment and he firmly repeated that it was time to call it a night.

Donna frowned as she fumbled for her keys in her soggy jacket. "I wish we didn't have to—

"I know." His voice was thick with emotion. "But we have to."

She sighed and looked away. "I know."

The rain began to let up a little until it was nothing more than a soft drizzle, the black clouds fading into grey. They stood there holding hands, not talking. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled. But that was in the distance. The storm had moved on.

"D.C. next week?" She asked, wringing some water out of his tie.

Josh opened the car door for her. "I'll be home by Tuesday night." He hesitated, looking up at her through furrowed brows. "You could stay with me?"

She nodded slowly. "I could…" She met his eyes again. They took turns being the responsible one.

Donna sighed and fussed with his jacket. "I wish it didn't have to be so complicated." He stilled her hands.

"We'll figure it out, Donna," he said confidently. None of that I'm-the-third-most-powerful-man-in-the-world-hear-me-roar bravado, just that quiet, determined confidence that made Congressmen bend to his will, one-by-one. "We're good at complicated."

Looking up at him again, she managed a smile. "We are." She squeezed his hand, trying to memorize the expression on his face. Campaign days were long and unforgiving; she needed some sort of promise to make it through.

The clouds passed on, sweeping away the rest of the rain. A few stars glittered in the puddles.

"See," Josh snorted, "we could've waited out the rain."

"I see. But I'm glad we didn't." They shared a look, a smile.

"Me, too." He kissed her again, sweet and gentle. Wiping the moisture from her face, Josh offered her a sheepish grin. "It was fun."

Donna got in the car and cranked up the heat under Josh's watchful eye. Satisfied she was prepared to leave, Josh leaned down to kiss her head. "I love you, you know." She knew. How could she not?

Donna smiled through the tears in her eyes. "Josh," she admonished, "I-love-yous are not good-byes, remember?"

He smirked, closing her door and jumping back from the car with a flourish. And smack into a puddle. Stomping around in the water for good measure, he yelled back to her over the drone of the engine. "Not good-byes, Donnatella, but until-next-times!"

In the rear-view mirror, Donna watched him hop through the puddles and back to his car.

The next day she sent matching his-and-hers rain boots to Josh's hotel. The note read:

For when we meet again under rain clouds.

Until next time.

Let the stormy clouds chase/ everyone from the place
Come on with the rain/ I've a smile on my face