Title: Flow
Author: ScullyAsTrinity
Category: Angst/romance
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: My poor show! Freakin Wells takin my show to freakin town... That's okay, because the Banter returned last Wednesday. I wanna see CJ in a floppy hat. :-(
Author's notes: I really need something to happen between Josh and Donna, something, just give me a 'Millenium' (That's X-Files people, KEEP UP!) kiss. Just one. No one on that show is effin GETTING ANY! Grrr...
Summary: "Donna," He blew through his lips in that hoarse whisper of his. "You look..." He searched for words, ones that weren't too complicated or overbearing or meaningless.
It could have been the standard compliment. It should have been the standard compliment, but it wasn't. It wasn't in any way standard because... this time he couldn't breathe. His breath, that was hitched in his throat, refused to complete the necessary cycle of respiration.
She sat in front of him, legs crossed, pencil in her hair, gnawing on her nail, waiting for her boss to finish getting ready while dutifully perusing a file. Earlier that day, she had ribbed him about always taking longer to get ready than she did. He had wanted to reply that it was easy for her, that she was naturally poised and presentable to begin with; he was a mess. He was always a mess, but he hadn't said it, deciding instead to stop wasting time and pull his tuxedo out of his closet.
He leaned against the jamb of his office door and stared at her. He allowed something to pull inside of him. He allowed his brain to come up with a plethora of different words that could pinpoint the color of her hair, of her lips. He brushed it off and turned his attention to the curve of her neck and the gentle rise and fall of her chest.
Noting a presence behind her, she turned, blonde hair falling into her eyes. "You're ready. And only in a half an hour..." She smiled at him, tossing the file that she was reading down on the desk and rising. "And your tie... is still a mess. Come here." Donna sighed and turned to push her chair into her desk.
Daintily, she swept some of her work to the side and perched on the edge of the desk, allowing Josh to stand closer to her. He still wasn't breathing. Donna glanced at him briefly, smiled and her brow crinkled. She set to work on his tie.
He fidgeted, bouncing on the balls of his feet and shoving his hands in his pockets. He knew to look anywhere at her, if he looked at her, if he was that close to her and he looked at her it would-
He looked at her, not just a glance, but stared. The breath finally escaped his lips in a great puff, lifting hair off of her shoulder. For a moment, she hand still on the silk at his neck, and she glanced at him, startled. His eyes continued to bore down, into hers. Donna quirked a lip, and shook her head and looked back down.
"Donna," He blew through his lips in that hoarse whisper of his. "You look..." He searched for words, ones that weren't too complicated or overbearing or meaningless. For just a moment, he wished he were in Toby's shoes, with the right words at the right time. But he wasn't. So he spoke the words he knew how to speak. "You look, like... you always do."
Donna was genuinely confused at his words and stopped pulling the silk through the loop she had made. "I look like I always lo-"
"Amazing. You look amazing." His voice dropped on the last word, changing tones. Going from amazed, straight to sad. She did look gorgeous, and ethereal, and golden, but she wasn't any of those things for him. They were all those qualities to him, to everyone he was sure. And it made him forlorn with wanting, wanting her but knowing that he could never have her.
She wanted to say thank you, take it with a grain of salt like she usually took it. Like he usually said it. But it wasn't like the times previous, it was different. It was different because he was centimeters from her and it was different because her hands had slackened on his tie and slid down to rest on his chest. It was so different because now, now he was sure he was breathing, and he was sure that he had placed his hands on her hips, though he wasn't sure how they'd come to be there.
"Amazing." She tested the word on her tongue, not really speaking to anyone. He could feel the warmth seep through his crisp white dress shirt to scorch his skin.
"Hang on." He said, and instead of taking his hands off of her hips, and pulled her off the desk so that she was standing toe to toe with him. Turning them both around, he sat on the desk. "Easier." He rasped out again, as her head fell, her cheeks turning pink and hot, but she reached up anyway and undid the tie and restarted.
"It has to flow, the whole process." She stated, her lips pursing, and then her tongue came out to wet her lips. It stayed out, pinched in between her teeth.
"It has to flow?" His voice returned, his more playful side coming out to jab at her.
She squinted for a moment and habitually checked the bullpen for any more occupants. It was dark, and everyone who was anybody at the White House had already left for the gala, leaving the two of them in strange silence.
"Yes, it's like the 'bunny process' while tying shoes. You can't stop halfway through, you have to finish it. If you stop, the knot doesn't," She pulled the tie through the loops she had made and continued. "It doesn't hold correctly."
And though her hands had been otherwise occupied with the expensive silk, his hands had not left her hips, and she could feel the damp warmth seeking through her own silk. "You're giving me lessons about the 'bunny process' Donna?"
He smiled, arrogantly and laughed. "Josh, I'm merely making a metaphor... no, wait, a simile, I used like."
Suddenly, he leaned in and planted a kiss at the corner of her mouth, leaving her stunned. He placed his cheek alongside hers for a moment and brushed skin before leaning back.
He grinned his Josh Lyman grin, and spoke. "We should get to the party."
"Yeah, we should." She took stock still for a moment, but moved into her coat when Josh held it up for her. "I can't wait to see Sam."
And they walked out of the White House, his hand guiding her at the small of her back.