The White House and the Brilliant Bee, a sisterhood of the traveling pants fanfic

Hey Guys! I've had this on my computer for a while and finally decided to post it.

However, it is definitely not my best work. I'm counting on getting time to improve it later, but right now I don't really have the time or energy. Also, if anyone could think of a better title, that would be grand. Because mine, well, sucks right now. Thanks!

Anyways, here it is, I hope you all like it!

Disclaimer:There is no way in hell I could ever write like Ann Brashares. So, it all belongs to her.

The White House and the Brilliant Bee

I lay awake, closing my eyes, but far from sleep.

This was so different from what I'd imagined it to be. Sure, I'd gathered that Bridget's dad was a damaged man- based on the little information I had. But I didn't expect this. The feelings in this house were tangible. They swirled together tugging at your heart, but you couldn't detect exactly what they were. There were hints of sadness, despair, loneliness, and something else I couldn't name.

I just felt so sorry for Bee. I wanted to hold her and absorb every bad thing she was feeling, to soak it up and just love her, so she'd never have to endure all this.

It was really hard, too, after all that time apart, not to be able to touch her.

I want to feel her hand it mine, to kiss her and let her know how much I missed her.

Now I am craving her touch like nothing else. It's swallowing me, sucking me into a stomach of need. To know that she sleeping somewhere in the same fucking house is torture.

Okay, that's it. This house is creepy enough in that it feels empty and white. Now there is creaking.

I open my eyes cautiously, looking around. Immediately my eyes are drawn to her. The moonlight is shining on her hair and nightgown, and she looks so beautiful. I'm pretty sure my mouth is hanging open is surprise, but somehow, I don't care.

She smirks and, reaching for my hand, pulls me up. Out of the bed. I'm only wearing a t-shirt and boxers. Well, it's not like she hasn't seen it before.

She leads me upstairs into her room and quietly shuts the door behind us. I'm sure I'm grinning like a maniac, but that's okay.

She pushes me gently down, so I can sit on her bed, then, Oh God.

She just hitched up that long nightgown and sat on my lap. I think I just groaned out loud. She's wrapping those extraordinarily long, tan legs around me, and it's about to undo me. And now she's kissing me. It's long and hard and deep, and I can't get enough of her and its making me crazy.

Her fingers are in my hair, gripping me closer, and she feels like Bee. My hands are on her waist and in deep in the jungle of her soft hair. God, I missed her.

She pulls away for a second, and I think about ignoring what she's about to say and just continue kissing her. But I listen instead, because I can see in her eyes that it is important.

"Why did you come back early?" she asks curiously, looking absolutely delectable with her hair a little messed up and her lips swollen and pink.

"For this," I whisper, my voice soft as I lean in to kiss her again.

She looks at me thoughtfully. "No, really."

"Really."

"Really?"

"I missed you," I whisper, and hope she can hear the truth of my words in my voice.

"Did you?"

I can't believe she still doubts this. "A lot."

She hugs me so hard, I think she might have bruised me, but it feels wonderful, so it doesn't matter.

I wanted to reassure her though. "I thought of you everywhere all the time. On the beach. On the soccer field. In the water. Lying in bed, I really thought of you." I wasn't ashamed of it, she was beautiful and perfect, and I wouldn't be a guy if I didn't want her in my bed every night. She laughed. My shamelessness probably was showing. But it was true.

"I mean it, Bee. Every girl I saw I wished was you."

I saw a plethora of emotions flash across her face before curiosity got the better of me.

"Did you miss me?"

She didn't answer for a minute, and I have to admit I was a little scared for a second. She looked thoughtful.

"When you told me you were going to Mexico, I wasn't sure what it meant," She spoke slowly, as if trying to get the words to make sense to me. " I wasn't sure if it meant you wanted to…go our own ways for a while."

What? Of course not. I needed to make her see.

But first, "Did you really think that?"

"I wasn't sure what to think."

"Do you think that now?"

"No," she said quickly, and I knew she no longer had those thoughts. But I had to explain.

"I never thought of going separate ways. I never wanted that. The way I looked at it was, when you're meant to be, what's a summer?" He couldn't believe she was scared he didn't want to be with her. And also…

"So, does this mean you didn't miss me?" I hoped the longing in my voice wasn't too apparent.

"I didn't realize how much until the end."

"And the beginning and the middle?"

She looked thoughtful again. "I think I was missing the idea of missing," she said, "But I think I may have figured it out now."

I wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but I was glad we had plenty time to figure it out.

She slowly got up and lifted my t-shirt over my head, and I knew that she loved me and was sorry for all the confusion and misunderstanding.

I almost shivered at my chest's proximity to hers. She kissed me, and I hoped my moan didn't make it past my throat.

She was soft and needy simultaneously. We both had been deprived of each other's presence for far too long.

I felt her pull at the waistbands of my boxers, and I shivered, as I happily obliged. I wanted to feel her skin against mine so badly it hurt. I slowly pulled her nightgown over her head, basking in her beautiful body and pressing her skin to every inch of mine. This was different from last time.

Last time had ripped us apart, tearing at our hearts and minds. It was angry and terrible- A need and want for bodies rather than souls. Last time we had sex.

This time, we made love. And the difference was beautiful.

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I slowly opened my eyes, taking in white everywhere. White walls, white carpet, white bed, white sheets.

I felt her against me and sighed. It felt so unbelievably right.

Her whole body was pressed up against mine, together in all the right places. And every part her was soft and warm.

But I knew her Dad was probably was the type to get up early and read the business section of the newspaper, and my absence from the couch would not go unnoticed.

I decided to lie there for another five minutes, and then I would sneak back down the stairs to the itchy, lonely couch.

I pressed her closer and felt the soft skin under my rough fingertips. I stroked her hair and kissed her collarbone lightly. I hoped I wouldn't wake her up, because then I'd never be able to leave.

But of course, she woke up anyway.

I saw her eyes flutter open, and then smirk at our positioning. She ran her fingers down my chest and I closed my eyes.

"Bee," I groaned. She wasn't helping my resolve to leave.

"Hmmmm?" she answered. Then she suddenly flipped us over, leaning down and kissing me deeply, making me shudder and press her closer, against my better judgment.

All right, that's it. There's only so much one man can take.

I flipped us back over and pressed my body fully against hers again, but suspended myself with my arms so I wouldn't crush her.

"I really should go," I murmured before we lost all control.

Sometime later, in the midst of an intense eye-staring contest, I realized that I should be downstairs.

"Shit," I said.

"I won," she smirked, and ran her long fingers down my back.

I smirked, "You always win."

I could feel my smile falter as I remember the Dad situation.

"Bee, I really think I should go before your Dad kills me."

She pouted a little, but gently rolled on her back anyway. She sighed, "Okay,"

Leaving was one of those things that was both good and very bad at the same time.

So, I leaned forward and kissed down her cheek, while murmuring, "I love you".

She smiled. And I couldn't help but lean down and kiss her again. She looked so beautiful in all the white and the sunshine and her hair all messed up and that gorgeous smile.

"I love you too."

I really hope I didn't look too suspicious grinning at Bee over my toast this morning.

White House, White Kitchen, White Table, White Plates.

And a Brilliant Bee to make it all bearable.

Author's Note:

Ok. After re-reading this for the 5th time in an hour, I've come to the conclusion that the only part I like is the 3rd to last sentence.

But whatever. Please, please, please review. I really need some constructive criticism on this one. But no flames, please.

And congratulations if you made it all the way through! lol. :D

-T.C.