Coming Out of the WIP Closet Day
Feb. 6th, 2004 11:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
out_thereOkay, in the spirit of admiting to the WIPs that will never be finished, I think I need to first point out the huge Sailor Moon epic that was started (99? 2000?) and will never be touched again. Just reading through the intros on the page, sorta shows the fact that I was 17/18 when I wrote these. There was First Impressions, Fireworks and Trivialities. Reading over them the overly formal style really grates on my nerves, but I don't think they're actually badfic. They're just... *very* amateurish.
I had an incredibly long epic tale plotted out, I do recall, but I can't remember much of it now. The theory was that Endymion underestimated the threat, and sent Kunzite out as their strongest warrior. Of course, Kunzite wasn't strong enough to defeat Beryl, and was captured. He was, however, too strong to be forced to accept the mind-control crystal, and so was kept as a prisoner. The other three princes/generals waged an attack against Beryl, while Endymion went to the Moon to warn/help prepare/make out with Princess Serenity. *g* I *think* Beryl was going to defeat the other three, and use the mindcontrol devices on them... and, okay, I can't remember exactly how she was going to blackmail Kunzite into accepting it, but it was going to come down to a choice between being loyal to Endymion and watching Zoicite die, or betraying Endymion and protecting Zoicite. In the end, he was going to choose Zoicite and accept the mind-control crystal, on the condition that none of them would remember their time on Earth. See? Kinda epic. And, once I knew what was going to happen, I lost interest in telling everyone else.
Generally, my WiPs are kinda short, but the plot behind them was huge, and I got too overwhelmed with the ideas to finish writing the story. For the other fics, the more recent, unposted ones, I'm going to follow Wendi's example and post them, and then the comments in italics below them.
Exhaustion
Lex blinked again and watched the blurry text slip back into focus. Leaning his head on his arm, he realised that he had no idea of what the last page of the report had even been about. The desire to simply close his eyes, just for a minute, was almost overwhelming. He yawned deeply, and then shook his head, as if he could dispel this tiredness by will alone.
He reached for a pen and started to write notes, scribbling down whatever he could remember about what he'd read so far. The pad of paper stared back at him, barely a quarter of the page covered with the scruffy, haphazard scrawl. At this rate, he'd need to read it all over again. He flipped back to the start of the report, and lifted the bottle of water to his lips.
Ten minutes later, he was fast asleep on the desk, face resting on the tiresome report and the pen still in his hand.
You may not see it, but this is the start of a huge, plot driven fic, set in S1 SV. To make a long story short, Lex was going to get more and more tired, and the investigative trio of Chloe, Pete and Clark were going to find out that a disgruntled ex-Luthorcorp employee (is there any other kind?) was poisoning Lex's Tynant (which was conveniently being shipped from Metropolis). It would probably have had a Clexy ending, too, but I really wanted to have a great gen piece. (Now, I'm not so worried about plot. I'm happy to write snark and the occasional bit of smut.) Of course, now we know that the drugging in the drink will actually happen, I've been a little Jossed.
Youth
Yet another Wednesday at Smallville High. Clark wouldn't say he was enjoying it, but it wasn't a bad day either. It was just a case of the only good thing about Wednesday was that the weekend was only two days away, and he said as much to Pete.
"Man, that rationale works for any day except Mondays," Pete replied as they walked to the Torch office to meet Chloe. "Mondays are doomed. They have nothing to redeem them."
"What about your football practice? Isn't that on a Monday?" Clark asked.
"Technically, it's only a Monday because the new coach can't take it on Tuesdays. It rightfully belongs to Tuesday. Monday can't claim it," Pete said, as if it was something that everyone should already know.
"Clark, are you bitching about Wednesdays again?" Chloe asked as they turned the corner and ran into her.
"I thought we were meeting you at the Torch?" Clark asked. He didn't remember complaining about Wednesdays, but trust Chloe to remember every conversation. "Didn't I say I'd help you with the LuthorCorp story?"
"Finished it earlier than I expected. I came out to see what was keeping you guys," Chloe replied. "I'm starving. Have you guys eaten yet?"
"Yeah, we already grabbed lunch, but I'm sure Clark can eat more," Pete said as they turned to the cafeteria.
"Just because I have a healthy appetite..." Clark had always eaten a lot, even in elementary school. Pete used to tease him then about the size of his lunches. There were some things that never changed.
"Yeah, healthy for horse. Seriously man, where does all of that food go?" Pete joked, elbowing him in the ribs.
"The extra height, obviously," Chloe contributed with a smile. Pete pretended to glare at her as she grabbed lunch and they sat down. "You know it's true, Pete."
"What LuthorCorp story?" Pete asked, changing the subject and stealing Chloe's jello.
"Please help yourself to my food Pete," Chloe said sarcastically, as she reclaimed her dessert. "You know, the annual Smallville Elementary tour around the plant. It's not really news-worthy, but..."
"But, there's nothing else this week and Chloe had space to fill," Clark finished for her.
Now that I read over this, it feels very sorkinfic, with the snark and the pedeconferencing. *g* Yet again, it's a whole epic that never got over 400 words. This was going to be a youth fic. I can't quite remember my logic, but it had something to do with one of the elementary school kids having a kryptonite rock, and it somehow getting into Lex's office area, possibly in the air-con ducts, or something like that. The trio were going to start seeing Lex's secretary feeling younger, and Chloe's dad's birthday was coming up, and he was going to mucking around about feeling younger. She was going to notice it and...
Well, it was also going to affect Lex, which was going to result in him reverting to a child, and Clark babysitting him as Pete and Chloe tried to find a cure without letting anyone know, esp. Lionel, that Lex was 19, 16, 13, 9, and 7 respectively. It was a good excuse to explore what Lex would have been as a kid, and was blatently inspired by the "Small Fry" BtVS fic (which rocked. Totally. In ways that I never could.). It was also a chance to have Lex with hair.
That was the fic that I'd theorised Lex's baldness, and decided that it wasn't radiation posioning that had caused it. It was a rare immunity disease that attacked the hair folicles (which, actually, is a real disease. I read a magazine article for it and that was where the idea came from. No idea of the name. I did this research like a year ago, so I have no clue now). Anyway, it was going to be a condition that was in Lillian's family, basically regressive, that hadn't shown up until after the meteor strike, because Lex's immune system had suddenly grown extremely strong. One of the interesting things about the disease is that the woman in the article mentioned that it wasn't immediate and it was constant. There were a few years in high school where it grew back, only to fall out again later. I wanted to play with the idea of Lex not always being a "freak", but getting a chance to be normal, and having it taken away again. But, that's not going to happen now. *g*
The next two are Sorkinfic, and I really, *really* don't want to put them in the Never To Be Continued pile, but I don't think I will do them. With this first one, it was started *last* February, on vague Sam leaves in S4 spoilers. All I knew was that he left, I didn't even know how or why. Hence, it's not exactly canon, but it was set for future canon... it could probably be saved and fixed, but I don't know.
Donna Knows
Donna knows that Josh likes her. Not just in the 'thank god you're my capable assistant and can deal with this for me' way. It's more of a 'if I wasn't your boss' and 'if we were in a bar somewhere' kind of way.
It's not a big thing. On the level of things that they handle daily, it's just a small thrill (or annoyance, depending on her mood), that makes up part of the background of her job.
She wouldn't act on it. Sure, Josh can be cute, and charming (arrogant, but charming), but she isn't really tempted. It's just a nice thought that even when she's come into the office as early as Josh, even when she's stayed back late, even when they work their way through the night and still has to come in the next day (feeling as if death would be a mercy), there's still someone who finds her desirable. She may feel flighty and out of control, or efficient and powerful, throwing her weight around, but there's still someone who wants her regardless.
It doesn't need to be the kind of passion where you'd sell your soul for the person. It's just that it reminds her that there's more to her than her job. She loves this job, loves being in the centre of the action, loves knowing that she's damn good at what she does, but she doesn't want it to be her entire life.
***
It comes as a shock when Josh actually asks her out. Asks her for dinner and drinks, as if she was any blonde he'd met in a bar. It offends her slightly that he forgets that she's a person he knows well, that he suddenly treats her as another woman to bed using a quick flash of dimples and that good old Lyman charm.
But she's curious too. It's like a train wreck: you shouldn't look but you can't help wanting to know how bad it could possibly be.
She hasn't been on a date in months and she can't help thinking that she could do with the practice. So she says yes and tries not to feel like she's just getting Amy's leftovers.
***
She feels a little strange getting ready that night. It's scary how easily she's slipped into the pattern of getting early nights when she can, of retreating to her bed with snacks and the television. It takes her a while to work out what to wear, but the hair and makeup come easier to her. She only forgets for a second why she can't wear the caramel pumps that make her calves look incredible (they're impossible to stand in for over twenty minutes), before she reaches for the black ones.
The meal is good. Classy restaurant, not too intimate and not too busy. Their conversation swiftly falls into the quick banter that comes easily to them. Neither of them drink too much, and the evening ends at an hour that's only just this side of decent.
Josh drives her home, and kisses her goodnight. He doesn't push for more, and she doesn't ask him up.
***
The next time they go out to a movie and it's one more thing to talk about and quibble over.
The time after that they go to a little Italian place that serves great pizza. They talk about anything and everything, as long as it isn't too personal or too political.
It (this thing between them) falls into an easy rhythm. They work together and go out on a Friday, or a Saturday, if work commitments allow. They keep it quiet from everyone, because really, it's none of their business. And the less people they tell, the less likely they'll see it in the papers.
They don't sleep together, but the kisses are nice, and it's another reminder that there is life beyond the White House (even if it is all mixed up in the White House anyway). Sometimes, she thinks it's more of a friendship than anything else, and that doesn't seem so bad.
***
Donna waits for Josh to end it. She's not a fool. She knows that they aren't going anywhere. If anything, they're both just treading water, keeping themselves busy until something better comes along.
She's surprised that he doesn't end it.
***
Eventually, she works out what's important to Josh by what he doesn't talk about. He can talk about using dirty politics but won't mention the vote that he left too late and did too little to change. He'll mention his mom, but won't talk about his father. He'll talk about Mandy and Amy, but ignores the fact that he was shot.
She finds herself following his example, playing by these self-imposed rules. She doesn't tell him that she really like Cliff, and that as a result, there were a few weeks when she really hated her job. She doesn't tell him how glad she was every time he rode in on a white charger to save her, or how disappointed she is that this, whatever it is between them, couldn't have meant more. And she doesn't mention Sam, because Josh doesn't either.
She doesn't say that she never expected to miss Sam this much. She never says that she walks past his office a couple times a day, and sometimes it just doesn't feel right without him in it. She likes Will, she really does, but it's not the same. Josh just acts as if everything is fine, and she wonders if he notices that the others miss Sam, that Toby comes into his office or CJ's far more frequently, looking for a second opinion that isn't there. If Josh hears that moment of silence when they all discuss an idea, that split second where they still expect Sam to interrupt, to act as the conscience for the entire administration, to be heard and dismissed. They all miss him, they just won't admit it.
And she only admits it to herself. She knows that she misses Sam, but there are enough day to day dramas to distract her. So when Sam calls her up out of the blue (on a Sunday) and invites her to lunch, she finds herself grinning and scribbling down a restaurant address.
***
When she sees him, Sam looks great. Big smile, eyes twinkling, and she can't help commenting on the new and improved tan. She remembers the ever-present tan from the first time she met him. Her first impression was of a model straight out of GQ, the ones that try to convince men that you can earn over $100,000 a year and still have time to party as if you were a junior in college. Then Sam had start to talk, and tripped over his own feet, and she had to revise her opinion of him.
"I've been sailing. That's where the tan's from."
Even though it's Sunday, there's a part of her that expected him to be in a suit. It's just and ingrained habit. Instead, he's wearing jeans and a sweatshirt rolled up to his elbows. It makes her think that he's not that much younger than Josh, but Josh looks far too old. "I didn't know you still did that."
"Sailing?" She nods and Sam leads them to a table. "Yeah, I just... ran out of time for it, I guess." He pauses to pick up a menu from the table, then looks up at her. "Only twenty-four hours in a day, that kind of thing."
"Yeah."
And this is where it should get awkward, but instead, Sam's asking what she wants to order and is dithering between the chicken and the seafood.
"I'd go with the chicken, Sam. You can't go wrong with chicken."
Sam looks sceptically at her and points out, "You could overcook it, or you could undercook it, and the idea of raw chicken..."
"Is more appetising than the idea of raw fish."
"Except for sushi."
She smiles. "Are you ordering sushi?"
"No," Sam says and looks slightly chagrined. "Chicken it is."
They order, and she asks about Sam's new job. He tells her about it, about the big picture, about what they do, and smiles when he tell her just what he's doing. She tries to remember the last time he looked so proud, or so pleased, when talking about his job. She thinks it must be at least a year since he talked about the White House like that.
He asks how her life's going and she talks about it. Because Sam's been there, he knows what it's like. He knows how CJ can fake it to the press and that senators should be wary when Toby's out for blood. It's only when Sam doesn't know about the thing with Hindmarsh that she realises that he's been there but he's not in the midst of it anymore. It's a strange thing to suddenly realise, even though she's known it all along. From the fond smile, that doesn't bother him as much as she though it would.
The food arrives and he asks her about her life again. "So what about the rest of your life? You know, family, friends? The stuff we don't get paid for?"
The question takes her by surprise. What surprises her is that he had to ask, that she probably wouldn't have mentioned it. Then Sam leans over the table, and conspiratorially stage-whispers, "Special friends?" It's the way he wiggles his eyebrows as he says it that makes her burst into laughter.
Hold up three finders, she says, "The family's well. I saw them last Thanksgiving. We had a big family gathering. I'd forgotten I had so many cousins."
She lowers one finger, has a mouthful of salad and then continues, "Well, the friends that I don't work with... Actually, I haven't seen them in a while. I meant to get together with them weeks ago but it's been a bit busy." Another finger goes down.
Sam nods, picking at his chicken. "Yeah, it can get a bit hectic. And...?" he prompts.
"And..." She lowers the last finger, and spears a tomato with her fork, tyring to work out what to say, how to say it.
"Hey, you weren't finished with that point," Sam says, looking pointedly at her hand.
"My mother taught me it was rude to point, Sam Seaborn."
"Oh, okay. Go on." He smiles at her remark, and gestures for her to continue.
I'm seeing someone." She's hedging around the question and she knows it.
Sam watches her, then turns his attention back to his plate. "What's he like?"
"He's nice. I mean, he can be a bit of jerk sometimes, but he's nice to me." She stares at her salad, picking the lettuce apart, peeling the layers of leaves back to find the remaining bits of tomato. "It's just this regular, weekly thing. It's not... It's not really serious." She's not sure what else to say, so she lets the conversation trail off.
Sam shrugs, and doesn't push her. "Not every relationship has to be the love of a lifetime. If they were, every break up would be way too hard."
"Yeah, but..." I knew it wasn't going to be real, she wants to say. I wanted it to be, but it isn't. Sam's brows are lowered and he's picking at his potatoes with intense concentration. For some reason, that's what reassures her. "I know it's never going to be anything and there's no real reason to keep seeing him. I just don't want to be the one to break it off."
There's a moment where he looks up and doesn't say anything. And it's just Sam. Sam who's listened to her talk before but never tried to criticize Josh to her, even when Josh deserved it. Who's never lost patience with her and the inane facts that stick in her mind, who frequently had inane facts of his own to offer and discuss.
It's Sam, who isn't judging her, and never really has. "Well, he's not in love with you, right?"
She snorts in disbelief of the very idea. "Nope. He won't admit it, but he doesn't." She wonders if she's being unfair to Josh. "He cares about me, just not..."
"Not in the right way?" She nods but doesn't want to say anything. She's wondering what Sam's thinking.
"Then you're not doing anyone any harm. You're not being dishonest to him, you're just enjoying his company. Nothing wrong with that."
"You think?" For some reason, that cheers her up immensely. She smiles as she pushes away her plate and decides that she's finished.
"Yeah." Sam sounds as if he believes it, and that's good enough for her. "Just make sure that you don't get confused. Don't let yourself believe that it's the real thing just because it's easy and convenient. Don't settle for something less, just because you can."
She reaches over for her juice and watches Sam, but he's looking out the window at a couple sitting outside. They're dressed for the warm weather, and the guy leans over to feed her a strawberry. Donna can't remember if she's ever been that obviously in love with someone.
"Don't settle. I did it with Lisa. It's why we never would have worked. I was with someone I didn't really love, in a job I didn't love, and doing it because it was easy. People expected it of me, and I could achieve these things without really trying, without risking myself. It's simple and it's safe, but you have to take the risk. You have to take the chance that it won't work, that you'll walk away hurt and disheartened, because if you don't, there's no point. The victories are hollow. The defeats don't mean anything but the successes don't make you happy either."
That's probably the most that he's told her about Lisa. Sam doesn't talk about New York much. He talks about the campaign, he talks about working as a congressional aide in college, he talks about his family and growing up, but he doesn't talk much about Lisa. She realises that it's not because he doesn't want people to know about it, it's just that he wasn't very happy. "You really believe that one true love is out there? That it's not just something made up by romance novels and women's magazines?"
Sam laughs, and finishes the last mouthful of his potatoes. "It's there. It's just that most people aren't lucky enough to have it. They don't take the challenge and they won't risk the pain, so they never find it. But I know it's there."
That's the thought that stays in her mind, even as she offers to split the bill and he refuses, even as they gather their things and leave the place, even as he offers her a ride and she decides to walk for a bit. As she turns the key in her lock and opens her front door, the idea is still in her mind, bouncing back and forth over conversations she's had with Josh, making her wonder if she believes it.
You know, I still like the Donna/Sam interraction in this fic. I like the conversation between them. Of course, the other problem is that it basically relied on that old cliche of the female love interest playing match maker to the two guys. I do still think that she'd just think Josh was being an idiot by refusing to see Sam. And, I could see her surprising him by setting it up in his diary as some type of dinner meeting. Of course, to my mind, they'd meet on a Friday night, complete with Josh bitching about not being able to date because of politics, and Donna teasing him about the last time he actually had a date. There'd be cajolling, and Josh reminding her that she had to come in on Sunday to go through x files with him, and order it, and her whining but agreeing. Then, Donna would turn up on Sunday, and be unimpressed that Josh wasn't there. She'd call him, and he'd be half-asleep and apologetic and saying that he couldn't come in, and he'd fix it tomorrow.
On Monday, he'd show up with coffee, and apologise for getting her to come in unneccessarily. She'd tell him that she stayed and did half of the filing anyway, so she's not coming in next weekend, and then he'd stretch, lean against the wall or something, and she'd see the hickey, and spend the morning teasing him about finally getting lucky (a little jealous, but not as jealous as she expected, not as hurt, and... almost feeling (unfaithful? betraying?) feeling bad because she's also oddly relieved that whatever was going on between them was over, without it having to be awkward and weird and a big break-up). Then, I'm guessing that either that day, or the next, Sam would drop in and Josh would grin and make apologies for being busy, that he couldn't go for lunch. Sam would laugh and say that was fine, because he dropped in to take Donna out for lunch. Josh would smile and *look* at Sam, and she'd get it. She'd feel weird and numb about it, but she'd get it.
Man, I told you I *plotted* these out. There's also a SN therapy fic that I haven't even thought about for a while, but looking at it, I know I've written more and haven't typed it up... so I may type it up and get inspired. So, that's not being posted in the dead pile just yet.
I had an incredibly long epic tale plotted out, I do recall, but I can't remember much of it now. The theory was that Endymion underestimated the threat, and sent Kunzite out as their strongest warrior. Of course, Kunzite wasn't strong enough to defeat Beryl, and was captured. He was, however, too strong to be forced to accept the mind-control crystal, and so was kept as a prisoner. The other three princes/generals waged an attack against Beryl, while Endymion went to the Moon to warn/help prepare/make out with Princess Serenity. *g* I *think* Beryl was going to defeat the other three, and use the mindcontrol devices on them... and, okay, I can't remember exactly how she was going to blackmail Kunzite into accepting it, but it was going to come down to a choice between being loyal to Endymion and watching Zoicite die, or betraying Endymion and protecting Zoicite. In the end, he was going to choose Zoicite and accept the mind-control crystal, on the condition that none of them would remember their time on Earth. See? Kinda epic. And, once I knew what was going to happen, I lost interest in telling everyone else.
Generally, my WiPs are kinda short, but the plot behind them was huge, and I got too overwhelmed with the ideas to finish writing the story. For the other fics, the more recent, unposted ones, I'm going to follow Wendi's example and post them, and then the comments in italics below them.
Exhaustion
Lex blinked again and watched the blurry text slip back into focus. Leaning his head on his arm, he realised that he had no idea of what the last page of the report had even been about. The desire to simply close his eyes, just for a minute, was almost overwhelming. He yawned deeply, and then shook his head, as if he could dispel this tiredness by will alone.
He reached for a pen and started to write notes, scribbling down whatever he could remember about what he'd read so far. The pad of paper stared back at him, barely a quarter of the page covered with the scruffy, haphazard scrawl. At this rate, he'd need to read it all over again. He flipped back to the start of the report, and lifted the bottle of water to his lips.
Ten minutes later, he was fast asleep on the desk, face resting on the tiresome report and the pen still in his hand.
You may not see it, but this is the start of a huge, plot driven fic, set in S1 SV. To make a long story short, Lex was going to get more and more tired, and the investigative trio of Chloe, Pete and Clark were going to find out that a disgruntled ex-Luthorcorp employee (is there any other kind?) was poisoning Lex's Tynant (which was conveniently being shipped from Metropolis). It would probably have had a Clexy ending, too, but I really wanted to have a great gen piece. (Now, I'm not so worried about plot. I'm happy to write snark and the occasional bit of smut.) Of course, now we know that the drugging in the drink will actually happen, I've been a little Jossed.
Youth
Yet another Wednesday at Smallville High. Clark wouldn't say he was enjoying it, but it wasn't a bad day either. It was just a case of the only good thing about Wednesday was that the weekend was only two days away, and he said as much to Pete.
"Man, that rationale works for any day except Mondays," Pete replied as they walked to the Torch office to meet Chloe. "Mondays are doomed. They have nothing to redeem them."
"What about your football practice? Isn't that on a Monday?" Clark asked.
"Technically, it's only a Monday because the new coach can't take it on Tuesdays. It rightfully belongs to Tuesday. Monday can't claim it," Pete said, as if it was something that everyone should already know.
"Clark, are you bitching about Wednesdays again?" Chloe asked as they turned the corner and ran into her.
"I thought we were meeting you at the Torch?" Clark asked. He didn't remember complaining about Wednesdays, but trust Chloe to remember every conversation. "Didn't I say I'd help you with the LuthorCorp story?"
"Finished it earlier than I expected. I came out to see what was keeping you guys," Chloe replied. "I'm starving. Have you guys eaten yet?"
"Yeah, we already grabbed lunch, but I'm sure Clark can eat more," Pete said as they turned to the cafeteria.
"Just because I have a healthy appetite..." Clark had always eaten a lot, even in elementary school. Pete used to tease him then about the size of his lunches. There were some things that never changed.
"Yeah, healthy for horse. Seriously man, where does all of that food go?" Pete joked, elbowing him in the ribs.
"The extra height, obviously," Chloe contributed with a smile. Pete pretended to glare at her as she grabbed lunch and they sat down. "You know it's true, Pete."
"What LuthorCorp story?" Pete asked, changing the subject and stealing Chloe's jello.
"Please help yourself to my food Pete," Chloe said sarcastically, as she reclaimed her dessert. "You know, the annual Smallville Elementary tour around the plant. It's not really news-worthy, but..."
"But, there's nothing else this week and Chloe had space to fill," Clark finished for her.
Now that I read over this, it feels very sorkinfic, with the snark and the pedeconferencing. *g* Yet again, it's a whole epic that never got over 400 words. This was going to be a youth fic. I can't quite remember my logic, but it had something to do with one of the elementary school kids having a kryptonite rock, and it somehow getting into Lex's office area, possibly in the air-con ducts, or something like that. The trio were going to start seeing Lex's secretary feeling younger, and Chloe's dad's birthday was coming up, and he was going to mucking around about feeling younger. She was going to notice it and...
Well, it was also going to affect Lex, which was going to result in him reverting to a child, and Clark babysitting him as Pete and Chloe tried to find a cure without letting anyone know, esp. Lionel, that Lex was 19, 16, 13, 9, and 7 respectively. It was a good excuse to explore what Lex would have been as a kid, and was blatently inspired by the "Small Fry" BtVS fic (which rocked. Totally. In ways that I never could.). It was also a chance to have Lex with hair.
That was the fic that I'd theorised Lex's baldness, and decided that it wasn't radiation posioning that had caused it. It was a rare immunity disease that attacked the hair folicles (which, actually, is a real disease. I read a magazine article for it and that was where the idea came from. No idea of the name. I did this research like a year ago, so I have no clue now). Anyway, it was going to be a condition that was in Lillian's family, basically regressive, that hadn't shown up until after the meteor strike, because Lex's immune system had suddenly grown extremely strong. One of the interesting things about the disease is that the woman in the article mentioned that it wasn't immediate and it was constant. There were a few years in high school where it grew back, only to fall out again later. I wanted to play with the idea of Lex not always being a "freak", but getting a chance to be normal, and having it taken away again. But, that's not going to happen now. *g*
The next two are Sorkinfic, and I really, *really* don't want to put them in the Never To Be Continued pile, but I don't think I will do them. With this first one, it was started *last* February, on vague Sam leaves in S4 spoilers. All I knew was that he left, I didn't even know how or why. Hence, it's not exactly canon, but it was set for future canon... it could probably be saved and fixed, but I don't know.
Donna Knows
Donna knows that Josh likes her. Not just in the 'thank god you're my capable assistant and can deal with this for me' way. It's more of a 'if I wasn't your boss' and 'if we were in a bar somewhere' kind of way.
It's not a big thing. On the level of things that they handle daily, it's just a small thrill (or annoyance, depending on her mood), that makes up part of the background of her job.
She wouldn't act on it. Sure, Josh can be cute, and charming (arrogant, but charming), but she isn't really tempted. It's just a nice thought that even when she's come into the office as early as Josh, even when she's stayed back late, even when they work their way through the night and still has to come in the next day (feeling as if death would be a mercy), there's still someone who finds her desirable. She may feel flighty and out of control, or efficient and powerful, throwing her weight around, but there's still someone who wants her regardless.
It doesn't need to be the kind of passion where you'd sell your soul for the person. It's just that it reminds her that there's more to her than her job. She loves this job, loves being in the centre of the action, loves knowing that she's damn good at what she does, but she doesn't want it to be her entire life.
***
It comes as a shock when Josh actually asks her out. Asks her for dinner and drinks, as if she was any blonde he'd met in a bar. It offends her slightly that he forgets that she's a person he knows well, that he suddenly treats her as another woman to bed using a quick flash of dimples and that good old Lyman charm.
But she's curious too. It's like a train wreck: you shouldn't look but you can't help wanting to know how bad it could possibly be.
She hasn't been on a date in months and she can't help thinking that she could do with the practice. So she says yes and tries not to feel like she's just getting Amy's leftovers.
***
She feels a little strange getting ready that night. It's scary how easily she's slipped into the pattern of getting early nights when she can, of retreating to her bed with snacks and the television. It takes her a while to work out what to wear, but the hair and makeup come easier to her. She only forgets for a second why she can't wear the caramel pumps that make her calves look incredible (they're impossible to stand in for over twenty minutes), before she reaches for the black ones.
The meal is good. Classy restaurant, not too intimate and not too busy. Their conversation swiftly falls into the quick banter that comes easily to them. Neither of them drink too much, and the evening ends at an hour that's only just this side of decent.
Josh drives her home, and kisses her goodnight. He doesn't push for more, and she doesn't ask him up.
***
The next time they go out to a movie and it's one more thing to talk about and quibble over.
The time after that they go to a little Italian place that serves great pizza. They talk about anything and everything, as long as it isn't too personal or too political.
It (this thing between them) falls into an easy rhythm. They work together and go out on a Friday, or a Saturday, if work commitments allow. They keep it quiet from everyone, because really, it's none of their business. And the less people they tell, the less likely they'll see it in the papers.
They don't sleep together, but the kisses are nice, and it's another reminder that there is life beyond the White House (even if it is all mixed up in the White House anyway). Sometimes, she thinks it's more of a friendship than anything else, and that doesn't seem so bad.
***
Donna waits for Josh to end it. She's not a fool. She knows that they aren't going anywhere. If anything, they're both just treading water, keeping themselves busy until something better comes along.
She's surprised that he doesn't end it.
***
Eventually, she works out what's important to Josh by what he doesn't talk about. He can talk about using dirty politics but won't mention the vote that he left too late and did too little to change. He'll mention his mom, but won't talk about his father. He'll talk about Mandy and Amy, but ignores the fact that he was shot.
She finds herself following his example, playing by these self-imposed rules. She doesn't tell him that she really like Cliff, and that as a result, there were a few weeks when she really hated her job. She doesn't tell him how glad she was every time he rode in on a white charger to save her, or how disappointed she is that this, whatever it is between them, couldn't have meant more. And she doesn't mention Sam, because Josh doesn't either.
She doesn't say that she never expected to miss Sam this much. She never says that she walks past his office a couple times a day, and sometimes it just doesn't feel right without him in it. She likes Will, she really does, but it's not the same. Josh just acts as if everything is fine, and she wonders if he notices that the others miss Sam, that Toby comes into his office or CJ's far more frequently, looking for a second opinion that isn't there. If Josh hears that moment of silence when they all discuss an idea, that split second where they still expect Sam to interrupt, to act as the conscience for the entire administration, to be heard and dismissed. They all miss him, they just won't admit it.
And she only admits it to herself. She knows that she misses Sam, but there are enough day to day dramas to distract her. So when Sam calls her up out of the blue (on a Sunday) and invites her to lunch, she finds herself grinning and scribbling down a restaurant address.
***
When she sees him, Sam looks great. Big smile, eyes twinkling, and she can't help commenting on the new and improved tan. She remembers the ever-present tan from the first time she met him. Her first impression was of a model straight out of GQ, the ones that try to convince men that you can earn over $100,000 a year and still have time to party as if you were a junior in college. Then Sam had start to talk, and tripped over his own feet, and she had to revise her opinion of him.
"I've been sailing. That's where the tan's from."
Even though it's Sunday, there's a part of her that expected him to be in a suit. It's just and ingrained habit. Instead, he's wearing jeans and a sweatshirt rolled up to his elbows. It makes her think that he's not that much younger than Josh, but Josh looks far too old. "I didn't know you still did that."
"Sailing?" She nods and Sam leads them to a table. "Yeah, I just... ran out of time for it, I guess." He pauses to pick up a menu from the table, then looks up at her. "Only twenty-four hours in a day, that kind of thing."
"Yeah."
And this is where it should get awkward, but instead, Sam's asking what she wants to order and is dithering between the chicken and the seafood.
"I'd go with the chicken, Sam. You can't go wrong with chicken."
Sam looks sceptically at her and points out, "You could overcook it, or you could undercook it, and the idea of raw chicken..."
"Is more appetising than the idea of raw fish."
"Except for sushi."
She smiles. "Are you ordering sushi?"
"No," Sam says and looks slightly chagrined. "Chicken it is."
They order, and she asks about Sam's new job. He tells her about it, about the big picture, about what they do, and smiles when he tell her just what he's doing. She tries to remember the last time he looked so proud, or so pleased, when talking about his job. She thinks it must be at least a year since he talked about the White House like that.
He asks how her life's going and she talks about it. Because Sam's been there, he knows what it's like. He knows how CJ can fake it to the press and that senators should be wary when Toby's out for blood. It's only when Sam doesn't know about the thing with Hindmarsh that she realises that he's been there but he's not in the midst of it anymore. It's a strange thing to suddenly realise, even though she's known it all along. From the fond smile, that doesn't bother him as much as she though it would.
The food arrives and he asks her about her life again. "So what about the rest of your life? You know, family, friends? The stuff we don't get paid for?"
The question takes her by surprise. What surprises her is that he had to ask, that she probably wouldn't have mentioned it. Then Sam leans over the table, and conspiratorially stage-whispers, "Special friends?" It's the way he wiggles his eyebrows as he says it that makes her burst into laughter.
Hold up three finders, she says, "The family's well. I saw them last Thanksgiving. We had a big family gathering. I'd forgotten I had so many cousins."
She lowers one finger, has a mouthful of salad and then continues, "Well, the friends that I don't work with... Actually, I haven't seen them in a while. I meant to get together with them weeks ago but it's been a bit busy." Another finger goes down.
Sam nods, picking at his chicken. "Yeah, it can get a bit hectic. And...?" he prompts.
"And..." She lowers the last finger, and spears a tomato with her fork, tyring to work out what to say, how to say it.
"Hey, you weren't finished with that point," Sam says, looking pointedly at her hand.
"My mother taught me it was rude to point, Sam Seaborn."
"Oh, okay. Go on." He smiles at her remark, and gestures for her to continue.
I'm seeing someone." She's hedging around the question and she knows it.
Sam watches her, then turns his attention back to his plate. "What's he like?"
"He's nice. I mean, he can be a bit of jerk sometimes, but he's nice to me." She stares at her salad, picking the lettuce apart, peeling the layers of leaves back to find the remaining bits of tomato. "It's just this regular, weekly thing. It's not... It's not really serious." She's not sure what else to say, so she lets the conversation trail off.
Sam shrugs, and doesn't push her. "Not every relationship has to be the love of a lifetime. If they were, every break up would be way too hard."
"Yeah, but..." I knew it wasn't going to be real, she wants to say. I wanted it to be, but it isn't. Sam's brows are lowered and he's picking at his potatoes with intense concentration. For some reason, that's what reassures her. "I know it's never going to be anything and there's no real reason to keep seeing him. I just don't want to be the one to break it off."
There's a moment where he looks up and doesn't say anything. And it's just Sam. Sam who's listened to her talk before but never tried to criticize Josh to her, even when Josh deserved it. Who's never lost patience with her and the inane facts that stick in her mind, who frequently had inane facts of his own to offer and discuss.
It's Sam, who isn't judging her, and never really has. "Well, he's not in love with you, right?"
She snorts in disbelief of the very idea. "Nope. He won't admit it, but he doesn't." She wonders if she's being unfair to Josh. "He cares about me, just not..."
"Not in the right way?" She nods but doesn't want to say anything. She's wondering what Sam's thinking.
"Then you're not doing anyone any harm. You're not being dishonest to him, you're just enjoying his company. Nothing wrong with that."
"You think?" For some reason, that cheers her up immensely. She smiles as she pushes away her plate and decides that she's finished.
"Yeah." Sam sounds as if he believes it, and that's good enough for her. "Just make sure that you don't get confused. Don't let yourself believe that it's the real thing just because it's easy and convenient. Don't settle for something less, just because you can."
She reaches over for her juice and watches Sam, but he's looking out the window at a couple sitting outside. They're dressed for the warm weather, and the guy leans over to feed her a strawberry. Donna can't remember if she's ever been that obviously in love with someone.
"Don't settle. I did it with Lisa. It's why we never would have worked. I was with someone I didn't really love, in a job I didn't love, and doing it because it was easy. People expected it of me, and I could achieve these things without really trying, without risking myself. It's simple and it's safe, but you have to take the risk. You have to take the chance that it won't work, that you'll walk away hurt and disheartened, because if you don't, there's no point. The victories are hollow. The defeats don't mean anything but the successes don't make you happy either."
That's probably the most that he's told her about Lisa. Sam doesn't talk about New York much. He talks about the campaign, he talks about working as a congressional aide in college, he talks about his family and growing up, but he doesn't talk much about Lisa. She realises that it's not because he doesn't want people to know about it, it's just that he wasn't very happy. "You really believe that one true love is out there? That it's not just something made up by romance novels and women's magazines?"
Sam laughs, and finishes the last mouthful of his potatoes. "It's there. It's just that most people aren't lucky enough to have it. They don't take the challenge and they won't risk the pain, so they never find it. But I know it's there."
That's the thought that stays in her mind, even as she offers to split the bill and he refuses, even as they gather their things and leave the place, even as he offers her a ride and she decides to walk for a bit. As she turns the key in her lock and opens her front door, the idea is still in her mind, bouncing back and forth over conversations she's had with Josh, making her wonder if she believes it.
You know, I still like the Donna/Sam interraction in this fic. I like the conversation between them. Of course, the other problem is that it basically relied on that old cliche of the female love interest playing match maker to the two guys. I do still think that she'd just think Josh was being an idiot by refusing to see Sam. And, I could see her surprising him by setting it up in his diary as some type of dinner meeting. Of course, to my mind, they'd meet on a Friday night, complete with Josh bitching about not being able to date because of politics, and Donna teasing him about the last time he actually had a date. There'd be cajolling, and Josh reminding her that she had to come in on Sunday to go through x files with him, and order it, and her whining but agreeing. Then, Donna would turn up on Sunday, and be unimpressed that Josh wasn't there. She'd call him, and he'd be half-asleep and apologetic and saying that he couldn't come in, and he'd fix it tomorrow.
On Monday, he'd show up with coffee, and apologise for getting her to come in unneccessarily. She'd tell him that she stayed and did half of the filing anyway, so she's not coming in next weekend, and then he'd stretch, lean against the wall or something, and she'd see the hickey, and spend the morning teasing him about finally getting lucky (a little jealous, but not as jealous as she expected, not as hurt, and... almost feeling (unfaithful? betraying?) feeling bad because she's also oddly relieved that whatever was going on between them was over, without it having to be awkward and weird and a big break-up). Then, I'm guessing that either that day, or the next, Sam would drop in and Josh would grin and make apologies for being busy, that he couldn't go for lunch. Sam would laugh and say that was fine, because he dropped in to take Donna out for lunch. Josh would smile and *look* at Sam, and she'd get it. She'd feel weird and numb about it, but she'd get it.
Man, I told you I *plotted* these out. There's also a SN therapy fic that I haven't even thought about for a while, but looking at it, I know I've written more and haven't typed it up... so I may type it up and get inspired. So, that's not being posted in the dead pile just yet.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-02-06 05:01 pm (UTC)"The extra height, obviously," Chloe contributed with a smile. Pete pretended to glare at her as she grabbed lunch and they sat down. "You know it's true, Pete."
*grins*
It's a shame you feel the WW fic's been jossed. Because, although the plot may be a little cliched, you write Donna so well. I'm used to your Sam and Josh being so good, so it was a nice surprise to read such a good Donna. I particularly liked her reaction to Josh asking her out - It offends her slightly that he forgets that she's a person he knows well, that he suddenly treats her as another woman to bed
Re:
Date: 2004-02-06 05:25 pm (UTC)Oh... um... *cringes*
It'd be a lot of work, and it'd be set back in S1, and... Damn, I'm a sucker for signing myself up for things that I never get round to finishing (Wally/Dick and the Justin/Brian fics are great examples of this). I'll say probaly not... but I'm thinking about it. Maybe I can do a little ficlet, along a similar theme, just not as detailed...? *thinks*
It's a shame you feel the WW fic's been jossed. Because, although the plot may be a little cliched, you write Donna so well. I'm used to your Sam and Josh being so good, so it was a nice surprise to read such a good Donna. I particularly liked her reaction to Josh asking her out
You think the Donna POV works? I was wary of it, because... Okay, my WW love lapsed because here WW screens against BtVS at 10.30pm. I can't stay up, I can't tape both, so Buffy wins out. But, last Feb,
But, as I posted it and read over it, I actually want to finish it. I think I could, because I know where it's headed, but I don't have it totally plotted out yet, so there's still some interest.
*revives it from the dead Wip pile*
Re:
Date: 2004-02-06 05:31 pm (UTC)I mean, I've never written the Josh/Sam story you asked from me, because every time I've tried, I just can't get their voices. (I'm glad you said betaing would do instead!)
Re:
Date: 2004-02-06 05:38 pm (UTC)The challenge of it seems fun, and then I get stuck. *g* Plus, I have three SN wips, one SV wip, one WW wip, the Justin/Brian and the dick/wally. Yeah, I went through my old wips and decided "Oh, no, I can finish that. I know what happens next..."
Of course, if I ever actually sat down and *wrote* I probably wouldn't have so wips... Or, if I didn't have the attention span of a gnat... *g*
I'm glad you said betaing would do instead!)
Babe, between betaing and pretty, pretty icons, I'm a happy little fangirl! *beams*