Outstanding
Author: Oro
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Sports Night in general and Sally in particular belong to Aaron Sorkin.
She licks her wounds and runs to the shadows. He used to lick her wounds in the shadows. He wounded her & chased her & used her & threw her away when he was done. They wouldn't talk about it at work and she would feel trashy and slutty and cheap. He made her less than what she really was and from that point of view she came to the world, small and tall and dirty at the same time. She would look for her reflection in the broken mirror and she wouldn't find it, not once, not ever, not: because she broke the mirror like she did her skin, in slits and cuts and bruises from bumping into things. She bumped into him after the show one night and he wasn't with Dana but with another girl and he seemed happy and white and shiny and she hated him for that. Because she wasn't: she wasn't happy or white or shiny or him or that girl or anyone at all. She was never what he wanted and she didn't want to be, no, not really, sort of. She was there for him back then but she wasn't even in it to begin with. She was always the one standing out, standing on the outside, not at all outstanding. Taller and bigger and different than the rest of them, she belonged to the night; they were hers for the night, reluctantly. She liked to think they did good things together on the 2am but nobody else did, awards didn't matter and they didn't do anything for her on the long run except isolate her further more. The new guy came and she did him as well but it didn't matter because no one knew because no one cared. She didn't care. He didn't. They all went through her and she was cheap and whorish when she didn't even mean to be. She put on red lipstick and smiled a red smile and stood in the background like a long water hose or whatnot, who the hell gives a damn.