Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, etc. I just thought of this last week - prior to Fire From the Sky which aired yesterday. I reviewed it and figured I would give it a go, so here's my second story on FanFiction...
Remembering
I closed my eyes, letting the sun fall across my face and absorbing the rays as if trying to gain some revelation. A warm breeze floated along the porch. It was relaxing, and for the first time in months, I let myself remember….
I rubbed absently at my protruding stomach. I was pregnant, due in three months. From a night of unbridled passion that was emotionally one-sided. I knew he loved her. I hated that, but I knew. And yet - and yet…he'd had some feeling for me that went beyond friendship. I was almost positive of that. But I pursued and pursued, hoping that once we'd had a taste of what could be, he would forget all about her. And I had been wrong.
Ironic. So ironic. He was so in love with her. And she was so in love with him. But she didn't even know it - neither of them did. They were stuck in this awkward "mating dance" kind of thing, and it sickened me completely. When she found out - about "us" - she started to treat me differently, but subtly.
It was hard to work with her everyday. And I knew she felt the same. On the one hand, I hated her. She was ruining my personal, private life….taking him away from me, even if she didn't know it. I had finally found some sort of happiness after an emotionally difficult break-up with the man who had almost become my husband. Finally, finally - I found him. He was my Adonis, I supposed. Gorgeous. My smile widened as I thought of him, of the first - and last - night we had ever made love. His body was sheer perfection, lean and hard and fully masculine. And when he looked at me with those deep blue eyes, it was as though I were swimming in the ocean, drowning in his sensual gaze. Until he said her name. It was no mistake, and we both knew it. And from there, our relationship grew more than awkward. He stopped calling, stopped smiling at me, stopped caring. So I hated her. Literally and figuratively and in every sense of the word.
And on the other hand, I respected her professionally. I enjoyed working with her, learning from her. She excelled in her field, and I knew it. She had worked hard, following some innate instinct that drove her to superiority on the job - but only on the job. Because her personal life was a mess. .And so, it was a trial to work with her, day in and day out. Such a challenge. I had to hide my intense hatred. But I guess that she knew something too, or maybe she heard about us - rumors circulating around the workplace. Because outside of work, we never spoke. Never called to chat. Would ignore one another on the street, in restaurants, in the bar. Rearrange our schedules when possible. We never went out of our way to cross paths. We were civil and professional because we had to be. But there was nothing more. And I might have regretted it, if I hadn't been drawn to him so completely.
I would walk down the hall and see her, and I would laugh inwardly, enjoying the pain I was causing her. Wonder if she was thinking about his arms wrapped around me, our bodies connecting in a way hers never had….And then I would groan because I knew that, even as we were making love that once, he was thinking of her. And so, when the plane was about to go down, I grabbed an emergency parachute from the cockpit and I took a deep breath and I jumped, leaving the mind games and the torment behind me, if only for a while.
But Woody didn't know. He didn't know I was alive at all.