Prompt: #25 Sigh
Chapter 1:

He heard it even though he was not supposed to. He was not supposed to be close enough to hear it, but he just couldn't help it.

He heard the little noise she made after he made announcements, when she thought he was out of earshot.

Don Keefer had never been an incredibly perceptive or emotionally well-connected male. There were no women praising what a good job his mother had done raising him. In fact, by most counts, he was a jackass - but not all the time. He was grateful most days that Maggie could see that it wasn't his constant chronic condition. But now, more than ever, he felt as though it was even worse when he and Maggie were together.

"You're getting a conscience," Elliot had teased him one night at Hang Chews while the two sat in the corner with Don glaring away all of the interns. Don could only scowl at his anchor, denying it as much as he could.

But when Sloan Sabbith sighs because she thinks he's gone, his chest tightens in a way it never has before and he knows that something has changed.

Sloan was still at the office, making it look as though she was diligently working – even if all she was doing was playing solitaire on her phone. She heard the footsteps behind her and, for a brief moment, she gothopeful.

She wasn't a romantic person, at all. In fact, she'd spoiled many relationships with her inability to be romantic. Everything was typically numbers and analytics in her head. Except for right now.

Now, every once and a while she'd get hopeful that he'd come around. That he'd tell her he'd made the wrong choice. Some nights when she thought about it – she imagines telling him it's too late. Other times, she imagines him taking her in his arms. Either way, she always ends up disappointed when reality creeps in.

Still, the footsteps behind her were very real and she hopes for the tiniest moment that it's him.

She turned around and lets out a little sigh.

"Jim," she greeted him halfheartedly. "What are you doing here so late?"

"Didn't feel like going home yet," he mumbled before shrugging and gesturing to the large brown paper bag in his arms. "I got Chinese, if you want some."

"That's a lot of food," she pointed out, ticking an eyebrow up. "Were you going to save some for lunch tomorrow?"

He shook his head, "I was actually just going to eat my feelings," he joked. "You'd be saving me from gaining five pounds in a night."

"Well, I can't have you losing that girlish figure of yours," she teased before gesturing for him to pull up a chair at her desk. They'd never been incredibly close, but she saw the way that he looked at Maggie and the way Maggie looked back. She'd thought, for a minute, that Don looked at her that way too, but was wrong. All eyes were on Maggie. She understood Jim. She didn't want to go home to be alone either. She poked at her food with a pair of chopsticks and eventually leaned her head on Jim Harper's shoulder.

He let out a sigh and she bobbed her head slightly. "You're telling me," she agreed to his wordless statement.

People seemed to think he hated Jim Harper. That was only a half-truth.

Don felt that Jim was a nice guy – extremely intelligent – and very good at his job. He believed that Jim was good for ACN and was a good friend, even to Don despite their differences. He liked Jim most of the time.

Except when Jim had been near Maggie, he'd hated Jim then. But he was doing such a better job of not hating him after Maggie had agreed to move in.

Then it all went to hell.

Because Jim and Sloan were attached at the hip. He'd walk out of his office and find her perched on the edge of Jim's desk laughing at a joke or over his shoulder, looking at his computer screen with him. Sloan went out for drinks more often than not with Jim and Neal and the others. She smiled more. Her laughter could be heard from the break room more.

And suddenly, he wanted to punch Jim in the face again.

This went on for a few weeks and Don was just about to boil over when he heard Jim's voice as he was rounding the corner towards his office, just outside of Sloan's.

"You've got to stop doing this to yourself," Jim urged sadly.

Then Don heard it – the little sigh, but this time much louder.

"I'm trying," she hissed. "At first I thought I could deal with it – I used to deal with it all the time, you know? The way they are. I used to have to watch it all the time, even before you came along…But it's different now that he knows. You know? It's like when he kisses her and I'm standing right there…it should be the nail in the coffin, but it's not. It should be all the proof I need that he doesn't give a damn so I can let him go, but I can't."

Don felt his chest tighten again. Did she think that? That he didn't give a damn about her? He gave plenty of damns about her – hell, there was a lot he gave about her. He swallowed thickly when he realized he wasn't supposed to and pushed those thoughts away.

"Sloan," Jim tried to sound reasonable. "You'll be okay. You'll find someone – you're smart and beautiful and funny." Cue Don wanting to hit Jim again. "You'll find someone I promise."

Sloan chuckled dryly, "Maybe. Do you know how much easier it would make life if we just dated," she asked bluntly. Don clenched his fist but then Sloan laughed and shook her head, "But that would never work, would it?"

It was Jim's turn to sigh again. "Nah, you intimidate me," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"You mean you love Maggie. And I can handle the fact that you'd rather be with her than me right now, because we're just friends. Emotions complicate everything," he could hear the frown in her voice. "What is it that has you and Don tripping over her so badly? Does Maggie Jordon's vagina also grant wishes?"

Don was grateful that Jim laughed so loudly because it concealed his snort. The two went back to speaking about other things and Don heard them both shuffle around and Jim insist on giving Sloan a hug goodbye. He ducked behind a corner when Jim walked out, grateful that he was not seen.

"You can come in now, Don," she called out.

Don sighed, he'd been caught.

He poked his head inside of her office and swallowed thickly. She was wearing her ACN cap and had changed out of her work clothes and into a sweatshirt and black jeans again. The sweatshirt was too large, she was drowning in fabric and looked so small.

He watched her as she refused to pick her head up and look at him. He hated this. Hated seeing her like this, hated feeling this way around her. He'd considered her such a good friend – gone to her about everything he needed, questions about work, office politics, and all of his endless arguments with and about Maggie…

Oh.

He suddenly really contemplated what that must have been like for her to sit through every time.

"Did you need something?" she asked, her voice softer than he was used to.

He opened his mouth but snapped it shut again before shaking his head, even though she couldn't see the gesture, and walking out the door as quickly as he could.

When he returned home, Maggie was sitting up and reading an article on her laptop. He'd been hoping she'd be asleep already. He just wanted to climb into bed, roll over and go to bed. He didn't want to talk to her, because he'd think about how much he missed conversations with other women. Or rather, one other woman.

He loved Maggie, he did. Loved that she was sometimes a little naïve about the business they worked in. Loved that she was sweet and honest and a little crazy.

But he missed a challenge – part of him wanted someone who could cut him down to size when he needed it or guide him in the direction he needed to be going in.

He glanced at his girlfriend and told her that he was going to jump in the shower. He made it a long shower and absolutely positively did not think about what it would be like to pull Sloan Sabbith into a shower with him. To kiss her. To feel her body against his. He thought nothing of the sort. He doesn't even know what it would be like.

Later on, Don emergeed from the shower and found Maggie passed out in bed and is relieved. He knows that's not even close to what it was supposed to be like.

She stayed late every night at work for the next five days. And each time, Don poked his head in towards the end of the night and steps into her office. The first four times, he walked out without a real word to her.

On the fifth night, he walked in and walked around her desk, leaning against it until she looked up at him through her lashes with hesitation. And then he reached down for her hand and pulled her up from her chair and moving her directly in front of her.

When he brushed his lips against hers for the first time, she sighed against his mouth and it sounded so much better than all of her other sighs except, now he felt guilty because of the other woman waiting at home for him. He backed away from her and jetted out the door again, leaving her behind in the otherwise abandoned office.