Champagne

Champagne

Kate loved weddings. It was that secret part of her that wanted to be married again, to someone who wasn't
so controlling...or perhaps just not in the CIA. she had had her share of militant men. She loved the fanfare,
and how the couple tying said knot didn't notice it at all. they saw their friends and their family, their loved
ones and the people they saw everyday and didn't care that all eyes were on them, they were just so happy to be alive and
together. she knew this point of view. so she pitied Ellie for this white house extravaganza. Kate knew that there
was a certain jane austen-esque joy in weddings, in dancing and tradition and a celebration of love, no matter how
exploited it was or how ridiculous it was or the divorce rate (this she certainly exuded from her mind).

As her mind drifted off about weddings, Kate didn't notice the man walking nervously up to her until he asked her to dance.
"Um..sure." and she took his arm and waltzed off. she didn't really care about the man or how blatantly he was staring at her
chest. she almost started paying attention when she thought she heard him whisper "i love blondes" but she was sure that was
just her imagining things again and at that point excused herself for some more champagne and perhaps a breath of fresh air.

She was standing outside, swirling her champagne glass and focusing on her aching feet, realizing that Manilo Blaniks weren't
ALWAYS worth it, especially with a floor length dress, when Will Bailey snuck up next to her and placed his hand softly onto the
small of her back. it was such a reassuring, gentle gesture that Kate hardly noticed he was there.

"looking for someone?"

Kate looked up, surprised at his presence and, noticing his hand on her back, mentally noted how easily he had snuck up on her,
and why hadn't her training kicked in and maybe she should stop with the champagne. "nope", she said "just getting some air"

"ah so you hate weddings too?"

This wasn't new. "A writer--hating weddings? I'm shocked."

Will laughed. why was this--this republican, wonder-woman-blonde so charming? "well the fanfare is a bit much. i almost pity the poor
couple. not that having me as a social secretary helped any."

now it was Kate's turn to laugh, "I'm sure they felt very reassured that such a romantic figure as a writer was helping plan their
romantic day."

italics whoops. she hadn't meant to use the word romantic. her mind reeled. what if he thought she was coming onto him, and...
was she?

will looked sideways at her. forgetting about replying in a witty, impressive, writer-guy way, he just looked at her profile as she
shifted her weight between her feet, sort of rocking side to side, just tipsy enough not to notice. how could she keep him on his toes
so confidently?

luckily will didn't have to think of a reply. a waiter came, offering them more champagne. Kate downed the rest of her glass and grabbed another.
if she was going to wear these shoes all night and somehow not let more politically assured men surprise her tonight, she was going to need another drink.
Will grabbed a glass too. Kate was throwing him off, her hair shining in the soft tiny glow of the twinkle lights, her tongue spilling off
such gracefully-almost-drunk banter. italics her tongue...

Will downed his glass, a little liquid courage goes a long way, and asked her if she wanted to sit.
She gratefully accepted and stopped swaying so much. not noticing that will had helped her to the nearby bench without making her feel small or helpless like
all the others, just delicately supported.

Will looked at her again, but this time Kate noticed and glanced back once he had looked away.
Will was charming in his own awkward, idealized way. this was a boy who had grown up around war and yet had never killed, had never wanted to kill,
had never had to kill or watch a friend die. and she could almost call this ignorant, but Will wasn't. he seemed to know so much and yet he was so easily
labeled naive, young.

after one too many awkward silences for Kate's taste, will finally left, asked one of the Laurens to dance with him and had resigned himself to a boring and uneventful
evening, maybe he would even sneak away and turn in early, before the president got tipsy and started rambling about state parks or something.

--

Kate was no longer tipsy and off balance. now she was full on drunk. it had been awhile since she had been the woman with all the men in her squad, who could
appear to be drinking herself silly and yet be aware of everything going on around her. she was out of practice in the white house. and this (rather strong)
champagne had done it for her. she glanced across the ballroom, searching for CJ. CJ had to get her out of here before anyone noticed she was this...intoxicated
she supposed was the right word for it. something like that. where was CJ?

CJ was talking to will. and will was staring at Kate, smiling a little as if he knew she was focusing quite hard on standing up straight (and not truly succeeding).
will was smiling in his eyes, she realized. he was looking straight at her and carrying on an intelligent conversation with CJ at the same time. what the hell?
how could he do that? will was practically pinning himself against her, pushing her up against the wall behind her and he was 10 feet away!

she watched as will finished his conversation and excused himself, walking straight towards her. "shit" she thought. what the hell am i gonna do now?

and that's when will actually did surprise her. he went straight up to her, with a confidence she had never seen in a non military man, (a confidence he had NEVER
seen in himself will thought) and then

asked her if she was doing all right.

sure, Kate answered.

will had chickened out. somehow in his minds eye he had seen himself walking right up to her, kissing her hard and fast and asking her to his apartment. how was he still
THIS nervous around strong women?!

as if reading his mind, Kate leaned in, whispered to will and they found themselves walking inconspicuously out of the ballroom of the white house, into the slightly chilly September air and getting in Will's car. they chatted, in their witty, awkward, charming way all the way to Will's apartment, and then suddenly will was someone new.

he was gentlemanly in shutting off the car, getting out and going around to open the door for Kate, but when will opened her door and helped her out, he was pinning her, ever so slightly, against the car. he shut the door behind her and told her to shush her rambling.

" and Santos was so misinformed about life in the field, out there, she couldn't believe how much press he was getting for being in the marines..."

she couldn't finish her sentence because Will's mouth was suddenly, softly on hers. his lips were sweet and delicate, not pressing too hard at all, but he was biting a little
at her bottom lip, hungry for her. then he kissed her, hard. she felt her body responding, her tongue searching for his, and when she found it, oohh...

he tasted like champagne and plain chap stick. he smelled like clean clean aftershave. he had a bit of stubble on his chin, she noticed, her soft cheek up against his clean shaven (mostly)
face. she melted into him like she had never let herself before.

Will thought Kate tasted like the diet cokes she was always drinking, like vanilla and peppermint. but her tongue was soft and she smelled faintly of champagne and the smell of
her deodorant reminded him of the mexican candies they had in California. like fresh chili with a hint of hibiscus flowers. why did she smell so good?! he found himself easily melding into her,
supporting her with his weight and leaning into her. he held onto her hip, placing little kisses on her neck, biting a little, wanting more of her. they climbed the stairs up to his apartment,
him helping her a bit. she was so graceful when she wasn't...oh what was the word?...intoxicated..intoxicating...

it took will a minute to find the right key, to fit it in the lock, to open the door. he didn't want to spend a second of this still, starry night, without his hands his lips his skin
on hers. but he managed to get them both inside, to close and lock the door, to get them both into his neat bedroom. and he greedily took in the smell of her hair as he took it out of its
loose up-do. he laid her softly on his cream, cotton sheets. and she rolled around for a minute, hungry for the textures and smells of this mysteriously charming Will Bailey.

--

she had slept in. ooh what a rare joy this was. she rolled over, onto a familiar feel. the hard chest of a man. wait.hadn't it been awhile? she didn't remember a boyfriend... oh shit. she thought.
what had she done this time? but when she warily opened her eyes she was-surprised-happy- to find the kind eyes of will looking down at her. hmm. oh that's right...

"good morning" he whispered, and picked up her hair to smell. he wondered if she smelled different in the morning. nope. just perhaps a bit more like him. he liked this, he thought.

Kate blinked her eyes sleepily. "good morning to you" she had an awful headache but found herself tasting Will's skin on her tongue. kissing his chest, his soft dark happy trail, up,
past his chest, up his neck, placing a soft, unfamiliar kiss on his mouth.

"you must be feeling better than i thought you would. i thought a spy-girl like you would be able to hold her liquor." he smiled.
she was so beautiful in the morning light, her blonde hair clashing so delicately with his cream sheets, his tan California skin.

she laughed. they had barely woken up and already he was being smart, witty, charming. his skin was so warm, so firm. she was amazed at how familiar it felt, waking up in his arms.
" a shower might help with the headache."

"ahh good plan" and he helped her out of bed, wrapping her gently in his sheet, kissing her softly, kindly, delicately licking the inside of her cheeks, until he could tell she was
a little out of breath. he noticed she couldn't really walk all wrapped up in his sheet, so he picked her up, surprising her with his strength (then she remembered whom his dad was)
and carried her to the shower, starting warm water and getting clean, white towels out the cupboard. she let him unwrap her out of the sheet, like a present, his hands soft and warm on her waist,
one hand playing with her hair. she looked at him. without his glasses he was...less nerdy, just as adorable. she stepped backwards into the walk-in-shower, letting him press her softly against
the tile wall, showering her with delicate kisses down her neck.

after he had washed her and she had washed him, she had used his shampoo and deodorant and dressed in a wife-beater of his and one of his big Stanford sweaters, a pair of his jeans which held onto her hips, they made breakfast together. wheat toast and strong coffee. they read the paper, checked cnn, had sex again, did the crossword puzzle and walked his lazy, big dog, George (how patriotic, she thought)
together, her hand in the back pocket of his jeans, his arm tight around her waist, after all that, a perfect Sunday, a Sunday will would remember forever, will drove Kate, her hand on his leg reassuringly,
back to the white house for her car. they kissed sweetly goodbye. they didn't talk about what to say at work tomorrow, or whether they would do this again. in fact they didn't talk very much at all. just their
usual witty banter, nothing grossly sweet or overtly romantic. they didn't discuss what people might say. they didn't talk about his job or her job or his politics or her secrets. she drove home thinking about a perfect day,
and how she would miss him (just a little) tonight when she was laying in her comparatively dark apartment. she thought when she got home, "perhaps I'll open a window, let a little light in, maybe even get a dog (on second thought
maybe a fish was more practical), how maybe tomorrow she might take some extra clothes...just in case.