A/N: So in Season 2 Episode 4, Sloan tells Mac she saw Titanic for the first time because she avoids sad movies. For some reason, I started wondering when or why she suddenly saw Titanic and who she saw it with. Maybe it was Don, I thought. Why couldn't it be Don? And so I wrote this...Enjoy! There's so much more to come!

angellwings

Sad Movies & Snark

by angellwings

Titanic

Don had survived a rather startling observation this week. He didn't really know what to do with it. Or when it happened, how it happened—alright not how. The how was pretty obvious. The realization itself was enough to change his perspective on everything he thought he knew about himself but then there was the problem of what to do about it.

Should he do something about it? Would it be taken seriously if he did? What did he hope would come from it if he did something? Was he ready for the way it would change…everything if he did?

Too many questions and he had no answers. Well, one. He had one answer. It really fucking bothered him that Sloan had drinks with Nina Howard's book agent. That was the one answer he knew and the answer that started it all.

That day was barely different than any other he'd been living through lately. He'd been sitting in his office fixing his god damn squeaky chair for no reason, other than he needed something to physically do after Maggie and Troy Davis. Damage Control was his unintended field of expertise only he'd had no control over any of the damage he'd been suffering lately. It was making him crazy. So he decided to work on something he could control, his stupid fucking chair.

Then Sloan knocked on his door to ask advice and admit that she thought she was the leak about Will being taken off the 9/11 coverage. Those two things on their own would have been fine, but then she had to tell him how she was the leak. The second the sentence "A guy asked me to a wedding" left her mouth his stomach dropped.

That had never happened before. Yes, she'd caught him off guard before and there had been a moment or two while he was still with Maggie that he'd wished he was single so he could—but that wasn't the point. The point was he'd never seen it coming. Not really. He'd marked Sloan as off limits for a long time and he was only a couple of weeks past his break up with Maggie. There was no way he was going to start feeling things for anyone else that quickly.

So he'd thought. Because there was Sloan saying she'd almost gone on a date to a wedding and his brain was reacting as if she'd somehow betrayed him. Sloan was single. She could date. He didn't expect her not to, but he suddenly realized…he didn't like it. But he couldn't seem to really comprehend it at the time so he focused on the fact that the guy was a book agent. He wasn't sure why he decided to focus on that at the time, he supposed it kept him from thinking about why he didn't like the idea of Sloan dating. He could fool himself into thinking it was just because the guy was a book agent, at least temporarily. You know, until Will asked him why he cared.

"I'm not sure." Is what he said and it was the truth. He really wasn't. About anything. Not any more. Not ever. Definitely not about Sloan. Well, again, maybe that's not totally true.

He was sure about Sloan, herself. He was sure she was the smartest person he'd ever met. Not smartest woman, smartest person. She was so brilliant and sometimes she knew it but other times…other times she acted like she expected more of herself. It was infuriating yet endearing and baffling. How could a woman like Sloan so greatly underestimate her own ability?

She also cared greatly about people. People she didn't know, people she'd never meet, and even people she didn't like. She cared so much that it made her the most ethical person in any room. It was why she wasn't down the block making about three or four times what she was making at ACN. She was a pillar of ethics and loyalty and her unwillingness to move from that position had gotten her into trouble more than once. She proclaimed herself socially inept and sometimes she was, especially when it came to observing the men she chose to date with clear and unbiased eyes. But her lack of social skills never kept her from trying or caring or raising awareness, as futile as that awareness may be.

This is why he wasn't confused about how any of this happened. Because Sloan was baffling in the most phenomenal way. She astounded him with what she thought, how she felt, and the persistence with which she thought and felt and acted. It also didn't hurt that she was undeniably attractive. She was a rare person who was genuinely beautiful inside and out, and he didn't give a damn how much of a sap that made him.

But knowing how it happened didn't help him with how to move forward.

What was he supposed to do now that he knew he was halfway in love with Sloan Sabbith and he wasn't even dating her? Where did he take this from here? He was up from his desk and opening her office door before he knew what he was doing.

"Hey, pal," he said with a smirk, and an internal wince. Pal? What the fuck was that, Keefer?

"Hey," She said, yet her eyes never moved from her two computer monitors. "You know, Kodak is doing surprisingly well given how outdated the company's actual product is. I know this seems illogical but do you think nostalgia could play a part in how well Kodak performs—"

"Have you had dinner, yet?" He asked with an impatient huff.

"Wow, man, that could have been a Kodak moment right there and you just cut me off," Sloan said as her gaze shifted from the monitors to Don.

"Really?" He asked with a smirk at her mention of Kodak.

"You know, that expression means practically nothing now."

"Yes, I know. It's terribly sad. Poor Kodak," Don said in a flat tone. "Dinner?"

"Your show came down thirty minutes ago," Sloan said observantly. "What are you still doing here?"

Was she avoiding his question? While he struggled with that and how to respond he realized something else. "What am I still doing here? What are you still doing here? You weren't on with Will or Eliot tonight. You were done after Market Wrap Up."

"There's a late night showing of Titanic at the theater near my building. I'm biding my time," Sloan told him.

"Why?" Don asked in amusement.

"So I'm not at the theater like three hours early—"

"No, Professor," he said with a chuckle.

"Oh, you mean why Titanic?" Sloan asked.

He nodded and waited expectantly.

"I've never seen it because it seems like it would be sad—"

"It is."

"But I'm done being afraid of the unknown so I'm gonna woman the fuck up and confront it," Sloan said plainly as she returned to her monitors.

"Confront Titanic?" Don asked with a grin.

"As far as the Titanic is concerned I'm the damn iceberg."

Don winced and laughed awkwardly.

"Bad joke?" Sloan asked at the sound of his wince.

"Touchy joke," Don clarified. "Still funny, though. You don't like sad movies?"

"My brother made me watch Bambi as a kid but he didn't warn me about Bambi's mother," she explained. "So now I avoid sad movies."

"But some of the best movies are sad movies," he said with a shake of his head. "You've made references to George Bailey. I know you've seen It's A—"

"Only because my mother practically tied me to my chair every Christmas and force fed me cocoa while we all watched it together," Sloan said dismissively.

"Rudy?" Don asked.

"Is that a football movie?"

"Mask?"

"The one with Jim Carrey?"

"Jesus, no. Dirty Dozen? The scene with Trini Lopez?"

"Trini was the name of the yellow power ranger, right?"

"You know the yellow power ranger but you've never seen The Dirty Dozen? How the hell are we friends?"

"That's simple," Sloan said with a shrug. "I'm delightful."

"I'm making a list," Don told her. "A list of movies you need to see if you're gonna confront your issues with sad movies."

"Titanic is a good start," Sloan said as she glanced at her clock and started to pack up her things.

"Titanic is a terrible start," Don told her with a smirk. "But I feel like it's my duty to make sure you don't chicken out. I'm going with you."

"Fine," she told him. "We might have time to get a bite before. Isn't that why you came in here?"

He'd come in here to ask her to dinner, officially. But this scene that played out had reminded him of their friendship and of how well they work together when she's on Eliot's show and about how good this is for him. What if he screws up like every other relationship he'd had? He couldn't lose Sloan. Besides, with the guys she dated, she was too far out of his league. How could he compete with athletes and financial geniuses and book agents who work on commissions that are three times his salary? He couldn't. But you know what he could do? He could be a part of her life and she could continue to be a part of his.

Some risks were too great.

For the moment anyway.

"Yeah, I was headed out and wanted to know if you'd eaten yet."

"The answer is no," she told him. "There's a diner serving breakfast down the street. If you order me waffles, I'll order you an egg white omelet."

"I don't want an egg white omelet," he said with a furrowed brow.

"Neither do I," she said with a sigh. "But I'm doing an interview with a friend's healthy lifestyle magazine next week, as a favor, and I don't want it to be a lie when I say I order healthy foods when eating out."

"So, your solution is that I order what you want and you order what you don't want and then I eat the horrible tasteless healthy plate and you get to eat the good food?" Don asked with a quirked brow.

"Yes."

"That's just ridiculous," Don told her.

"Or is it deceptively smart?"

"No," he said immediately with a laugh. "For someone with an insane amount of IQ points, you're truly terrible at evil plotting."

"I'm taking that as a compliment," she said as she flashed him a dazzling smile.

"Just order the waffles," he told her. "It's 11:30 at night and we're going to be at a crappy 24 hour diner. No will know or see you eat waffles except me and you know I don't give a damn."

"Fine, but you're making me a liar," Sloan told him playfully as she breezed past him and out of her office.

He laughed quietly and took a moment to watch her walk away.

Yes, he was chicken shit and too scared to ask her out, but at least he had this. He had tonight.