WW Fic: First Flight
Feb. 29th, 2004 10:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
out_thereTitle: First Flight
Fandom: West Wing
Pairing: Sam/Josh
Rating: G
Summary: It's the first time any of them have flown on Air Force One...
Word Count: 1,887
Disclaimer: They shall forever belong to Sorkin. Air Force One belongs to the airforce.
Note: Written for the Flying Leap challenge. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shoshannagold for betaing, even though she was very busy, and thanks to celli for helping me with a title. I based the descriptions of inside the Air Force One on this map.
Quote: He wants to fly into the hand of Michelangelo and come out painted on a ceiling. He wants to pierce the hornet's nest and come out with a long godhead.
Attribution: Anne Sexton (1928-1974), U.S. poet. "The Ambition Bird."
First Flight
Sam keeps thinking that he never expected the seats to be this big. His mind feels like an old record player, the needle jumping back to the same phrase again and again. He never expected the seats to be this big.
It's silly, really. He's sitting here, laptop open, and he could be working. He should be working. Toby's sitting on the other side of the plane, scribbling down notes and neurotically editing his own work. Sam should be doing the same, but all he keeps thinking about is that he never expected the seats to be this big.
It's not as if it's the first time he's flown. He's been in planes before, been in sleek 747s that have taken him from New York to California countless times, been in little puddle-jumpers following Bartlet around the nation. When he was promoted at Gage Whitney, he and Lisa took the Concorde to Paris. He knows about the lack of leg room in economy class, and he loves the way the food is served in individual packets on the longer flights. He doesn't normally wonder at the roomy aisles, or sit and think about the size of the seats.
Of course, this flight is slightly different to those. It's not just because it's the first time he's flown on Air Force One. This is the first time any of them have flown on it. It's the first time President Bartlet has flown on it.
President Bartlet. Even thinking the phrase makes him stop and smile. They all wore that same goofy grin after the results had been announced, repeating the title to each other in awed tones. No longer just Bartlet, or Governor Bartlet; now, it's President Bartlet, even if they still all call him Sir.
President Bartlet will be speaking tonight. Sam's pretty sure that's what Toby's working on. Double and triple checking the speech, making sure it's perfect. This isn't the first speech that President Bartlet has given. It's just the first one to be given outside of D.C., the first one that provided everyone an excuse to fly out with him.
Sam should probably be more nervous. He and Toby spent hours on the speech, in between wandering through their new offices, and trying to find everyone else's office. They've spent long nights on this speech and Sam had grinned every time one of them mentioned the President. He should help, but right now, his mind is stuck on the plane's interior.
It's well-lit and furnished in warm colours. The seat cover is soft under his fingers, and there's plenty of leg room, plenty of head space for him to stretch back and sleep if he wanted to. He doesn't want to. He doesn't want to miss a minute of this trip. He's spent most of the trip looking around, gazing out the windows or watching the others.
CJ is standing near the doorway, talking to Carol over the phone. Sometimes she laughs, and sometimes her face looks serious, but the excited gleam in her eyes doesn't dull. Sam briefly considers calling Cathy, but he's sat through too many of those please turn your cell phone off now speeches from flight attendants to be completely comfortable using a phone on a plane. He's sure it's safe enough, but he still feels uneasy about the idea. Cathy will understand. She'll mock him, but she'll understand.
Donna's giggle draws Sam's attention. She's sitting next to Josh, leaning over and laughing at something. She's been like that all day. Her normal cheery enthusiasm turned into barely contained joy this morning, when they told her she was coming with them. Josh complained that she should have known and that it must have been a miscommunication somewhere. Josh won't tell Donna, but Sam knows Josh personally asked Leo for that favour. Considering the way she's been bouncing all day, it really does mean a lot to her.
Josh is rolling his eyes and shaking his head at whatever Donna's saying. He gets out of his chair and heads over to Sam, probably just to escape Donna's grateful bubbling. "Hey," Josh says casually as he approaches.
Sam closes the cover of his laptop, not bothering to save the card game he had open. "Hey."
"So," Josh says, and then seems stuck for words. "President Bartlet?" Josh keeps saying this at random intervals. He interrupts a quiet moment, or sticks his head around Sam's door, just to repeat this. As if Sam might have forgotten.
Sam beams, as he does every time he hears the full title. It's been weeks now, and he can still barely believe it. "President Bartlet."
Josh grins back, a smile full of dimples, and nods. "Yeah." He doesn't say anything else, just stands there leaning against the back of Sam's chair.
"Did you need something? The speech?"
Josh shakes his head, and stops smiling for a moment. "Not really."
Sam laughs. "You were just getting away from Donna?" Josh shrugs and tilts his head to the side. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam sees Donna wander over to Toby, and start to talk to him.
"You had a look around yet?" Josh asks, following his eyes. Toby is scowling at her, but beneath the crankiness, there's a glint of amusement.
"Sort of," Sam says, thinking of the whirlwind tour they all got when they stepped aboard. He'd been too busy trying to absorb the fact that this was Air Force One, that they were flying with the President of the United States, to take much notice.
"Wanna check it out?" Josh asks, and Sam raises an eyebrow. "Me and Donna had a look around earlier."
"You and Donna snuck out the back?"
"Well, Donna did it first. Then she came and showed me," Josh amended with a grin. "And now, I'm showing you. It's like a tradition."
"I think a tradition needs have gone on longer than the past... hour," Sam teases, looking at his watch. Looking over, he realises that Toby's no longer looking amused. Any minute now, he's going to bellow for Sam to come and help him, and Sam honestly doesn't think he could write a sentence at the moment, let alone edit half a speech.
Josh shrugs and there's another quick flash of dimples. "Every tradition has to start somewhere."
"Okay," Sam says, putting his laptop aside and getting up quickly. He follows Josh out of the cabin, and behind him, he hears Toby yelling for CJ. "Narrow escape," he mutters under his breath.
Josh chuckles as they walk down the hallway. "You and me both." Sam lifts his hand to the curtains, catching the fabric loosely against his hands, and Josh shoots him an alert look. "Doesn't feel real, does it?"
Sam shakes his head and pulls his hand back. They're on the Air Force One, and they're working for the President. It doesn't feel real. "I saw the press area earlier."
Josh nods. "Other end of the plane," he says, pointing behind them. Walking down the brightly lit corridor, Josh stops in front of a pair of closed doors. Pushing them open, he says, "Apparently, this is the main conference room."
There's a huge wooden table in the middle, something that looks as if it came straight out of the West Wing. In fact, Sam's sure they have one that matches it. There are television screens at each end of the room, and a couch stretches along the inside wall. "That's a really long couch," he says and Josh sniggers.
"That was my reaction, too."
Sam walks around the chairs, trailing his fingertips along the table's smooth finish. "It doesn't feel like we're on a plane."
"Not until you look at the size of the windows." Turning, he realises Josh is right. The windows are the same small size common on every airplane. The only difference is that these all have the presidential seal on them.
Nodding, he follows Josh out of the room. "Where's the President?" The phrase still makes Sam smile.
Josh closes the doors quietly, reverently. "In his office with Leo. Up the front of the plane. Why?"
"Just curious."
"You don't want to get caught sneaking around?" Josh sounds amused.
Sam doesn't deign that question with a reply. "Where to next?"
Josh hums to himself, thinking. "The galley."
"We're not having any food," Sam points out. "The flight's too short, remember?"
Nodding, Josh frowns at him. "So?"
"Won't it be empty?"
"Yeah. Best way to check it out." Josh leads him further up the corridor and then turns right. "There's no one around to see you gawk at it. Or to watch you touch everything," Josh says, nudging Sam with an elbow.
Laughing, Sam follows him into the darkened room. The muted twilight is drifting through the small windows, leaving the room covered in dusty shadows. There are half a dozen tables around the large room, and it reminds Sam of the White House cafeteria.
"How many people do they expect to feed in here?" Josh asks wonderingly, and the answer pops into Sam's brain with a dozen other useless facts.
"It's designed to feed approximately a hundred people."
Josh looks at him, eyes wide in surprise. Then he blinks and says, "You memorised facts about Air Force One?"
"Yeah," Sam says, ducking his head slightly. When he looks back up, Josh is standing closer to him and smiling.
"I should have known you would," he says softly, fondly. It's a tone Sam hasn't heard in a while. "We did it, Sam."
"We did it." Sam beams and he doesn't even try to stop the joyful satisfaction in his voice. "We really did it."
"Yeah," Josh says, his smile becoming sharper and his eyes sliding down to Sam's lips. Resting a hand on Sam's arm, Josh leans in closer. Sam recognises the expression on Josh's face, the clear intent in his movements, and leans forward a little himself. He feels Josh's moist breath against his lips, and Sam's eyelids close of their own accord.
He waits for this to happen, but a heartbeat later, Josh pulls back with an embarrassed grin. There's a clear apology in Josh's eyes, in the quirk of his lips. He shifts on his feet and then says, "I think I hear Donna. I'd better get back."
"Yeah." Sam nods and watches Josh cringe slightly, and walk away. Josh is just opening the door as Sam turns away from the windows. "We did it," Sam repeats. His victorious tone is slightly hollow, now that he's thinking about what it cost them.
Josh smiles over his shoulder. "We really did," he says, and Sam can hear Donna's faint call. Josh walks out the door, and Sam turns back to the dusky lavender sky. Standing in the darkening shadows, he overhears Donna's excited voice as she found Josh. He can't make out the words, but he hears them laughing and knows whatever made her search for Josh isn't too serious.
Walking out of the room, Donna spots him and almost dances over, leaving Josh behind. "What do you think? Isn't it incredible?" she exclaims with a bright grin, gesturing broadly at everything around her.
Sam smiles back, and his smile almost feels the same. "I never expected the seats to be this big."
THE END
Fandom: West Wing
Pairing: Sam/Josh
Rating: G
Summary: It's the first time any of them have flown on Air Force One...
Word Count: 1,887
Disclaimer: They shall forever belong to Sorkin. Air Force One belongs to the airforce.
Note: Written for the Flying Leap challenge. Thanks to
shoshannagold for betaing, even though she was very busy, and thanks to celli for helping me with a title. I based the descriptions of inside the Air Force One on this map.Quote: He wants to fly into the hand of Michelangelo and come out painted on a ceiling. He wants to pierce the hornet's nest and come out with a long godhead.
Attribution: Anne Sexton (1928-1974), U.S. poet. "The Ambition Bird."
First Flight
Sam keeps thinking that he never expected the seats to be this big. His mind feels like an old record player, the needle jumping back to the same phrase again and again. He never expected the seats to be this big.
It's silly, really. He's sitting here, laptop open, and he could be working. He should be working. Toby's sitting on the other side of the plane, scribbling down notes and neurotically editing his own work. Sam should be doing the same, but all he keeps thinking about is that he never expected the seats to be this big.
It's not as if it's the first time he's flown. He's been in planes before, been in sleek 747s that have taken him from New York to California countless times, been in little puddle-jumpers following Bartlet around the nation. When he was promoted at Gage Whitney, he and Lisa took the Concorde to Paris. He knows about the lack of leg room in economy class, and he loves the way the food is served in individual packets on the longer flights. He doesn't normally wonder at the roomy aisles, or sit and think about the size of the seats.
Of course, this flight is slightly different to those. It's not just because it's the first time he's flown on Air Force One. This is the first time any of them have flown on it. It's the first time President Bartlet has flown on it.
President Bartlet. Even thinking the phrase makes him stop and smile. They all wore that same goofy grin after the results had been announced, repeating the title to each other in awed tones. No longer just Bartlet, or Governor Bartlet; now, it's President Bartlet, even if they still all call him Sir.
President Bartlet will be speaking tonight. Sam's pretty sure that's what Toby's working on. Double and triple checking the speech, making sure it's perfect. This isn't the first speech that President Bartlet has given. It's just the first one to be given outside of D.C., the first one that provided everyone an excuse to fly out with him.
Sam should probably be more nervous. He and Toby spent hours on the speech, in between wandering through their new offices, and trying to find everyone else's office. They've spent long nights on this speech and Sam had grinned every time one of them mentioned the President. He should help, but right now, his mind is stuck on the plane's interior.
It's well-lit and furnished in warm colours. The seat cover is soft under his fingers, and there's plenty of leg room, plenty of head space for him to stretch back and sleep if he wanted to. He doesn't want to. He doesn't want to miss a minute of this trip. He's spent most of the trip looking around, gazing out the windows or watching the others.
CJ is standing near the doorway, talking to Carol over the phone. Sometimes she laughs, and sometimes her face looks serious, but the excited gleam in her eyes doesn't dull. Sam briefly considers calling Cathy, but he's sat through too many of those please turn your cell phone off now speeches from flight attendants to be completely comfortable using a phone on a plane. He's sure it's safe enough, but he still feels uneasy about the idea. Cathy will understand. She'll mock him, but she'll understand.
Donna's giggle draws Sam's attention. She's sitting next to Josh, leaning over and laughing at something. She's been like that all day. Her normal cheery enthusiasm turned into barely contained joy this morning, when they told her she was coming with them. Josh complained that she should have known and that it must have been a miscommunication somewhere. Josh won't tell Donna, but Sam knows Josh personally asked Leo for that favour. Considering the way she's been bouncing all day, it really does mean a lot to her.
Josh is rolling his eyes and shaking his head at whatever Donna's saying. He gets out of his chair and heads over to Sam, probably just to escape Donna's grateful bubbling. "Hey," Josh says casually as he approaches.
Sam closes the cover of his laptop, not bothering to save the card game he had open. "Hey."
"So," Josh says, and then seems stuck for words. "President Bartlet?" Josh keeps saying this at random intervals. He interrupts a quiet moment, or sticks his head around Sam's door, just to repeat this. As if Sam might have forgotten.
Sam beams, as he does every time he hears the full title. It's been weeks now, and he can still barely believe it. "President Bartlet."
Josh grins back, a smile full of dimples, and nods. "Yeah." He doesn't say anything else, just stands there leaning against the back of Sam's chair.
"Did you need something? The speech?"
Josh shakes his head, and stops smiling for a moment. "Not really."
Sam laughs. "You were just getting away from Donna?" Josh shrugs and tilts his head to the side. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam sees Donna wander over to Toby, and start to talk to him.
"You had a look around yet?" Josh asks, following his eyes. Toby is scowling at her, but beneath the crankiness, there's a glint of amusement.
"Sort of," Sam says, thinking of the whirlwind tour they all got when they stepped aboard. He'd been too busy trying to absorb the fact that this was Air Force One, that they were flying with the President of the United States, to take much notice.
"Wanna check it out?" Josh asks, and Sam raises an eyebrow. "Me and Donna had a look around earlier."
"You and Donna snuck out the back?"
"Well, Donna did it first. Then she came and showed me," Josh amended with a grin. "And now, I'm showing you. It's like a tradition."
"I think a tradition needs have gone on longer than the past... hour," Sam teases, looking at his watch. Looking over, he realises that Toby's no longer looking amused. Any minute now, he's going to bellow for Sam to come and help him, and Sam honestly doesn't think he could write a sentence at the moment, let alone edit half a speech.
Josh shrugs and there's another quick flash of dimples. "Every tradition has to start somewhere."
"Okay," Sam says, putting his laptop aside and getting up quickly. He follows Josh out of the cabin, and behind him, he hears Toby yelling for CJ. "Narrow escape," he mutters under his breath.
Josh chuckles as they walk down the hallway. "You and me both." Sam lifts his hand to the curtains, catching the fabric loosely against his hands, and Josh shoots him an alert look. "Doesn't feel real, does it?"
Sam shakes his head and pulls his hand back. They're on the Air Force One, and they're working for the President. It doesn't feel real. "I saw the press area earlier."
Josh nods. "Other end of the plane," he says, pointing behind them. Walking down the brightly lit corridor, Josh stops in front of a pair of closed doors. Pushing them open, he says, "Apparently, this is the main conference room."
There's a huge wooden table in the middle, something that looks as if it came straight out of the West Wing. In fact, Sam's sure they have one that matches it. There are television screens at each end of the room, and a couch stretches along the inside wall. "That's a really long couch," he says and Josh sniggers.
"That was my reaction, too."
Sam walks around the chairs, trailing his fingertips along the table's smooth finish. "It doesn't feel like we're on a plane."
"Not until you look at the size of the windows." Turning, he realises Josh is right. The windows are the same small size common on every airplane. The only difference is that these all have the presidential seal on them.
Nodding, he follows Josh out of the room. "Where's the President?" The phrase still makes Sam smile.
Josh closes the doors quietly, reverently. "In his office with Leo. Up the front of the plane. Why?"
"Just curious."
"You don't want to get caught sneaking around?" Josh sounds amused.
Sam doesn't deign that question with a reply. "Where to next?"
Josh hums to himself, thinking. "The galley."
"We're not having any food," Sam points out. "The flight's too short, remember?"
Nodding, Josh frowns at him. "So?"
"Won't it be empty?"
"Yeah. Best way to check it out." Josh leads him further up the corridor and then turns right. "There's no one around to see you gawk at it. Or to watch you touch everything," Josh says, nudging Sam with an elbow.
Laughing, Sam follows him into the darkened room. The muted twilight is drifting through the small windows, leaving the room covered in dusty shadows. There are half a dozen tables around the large room, and it reminds Sam of the White House cafeteria.
"How many people do they expect to feed in here?" Josh asks wonderingly, and the answer pops into Sam's brain with a dozen other useless facts.
"It's designed to feed approximately a hundred people."
Josh looks at him, eyes wide in surprise. Then he blinks and says, "You memorised facts about Air Force One?"
"Yeah," Sam says, ducking his head slightly. When he looks back up, Josh is standing closer to him and smiling.
"I should have known you would," he says softly, fondly. It's a tone Sam hasn't heard in a while. "We did it, Sam."
"We did it." Sam beams and he doesn't even try to stop the joyful satisfaction in his voice. "We really did it."
"Yeah," Josh says, his smile becoming sharper and his eyes sliding down to Sam's lips. Resting a hand on Sam's arm, Josh leans in closer. Sam recognises the expression on Josh's face, the clear intent in his movements, and leans forward a little himself. He feels Josh's moist breath against his lips, and Sam's eyelids close of their own accord.
He waits for this to happen, but a heartbeat later, Josh pulls back with an embarrassed grin. There's a clear apology in Josh's eyes, in the quirk of his lips. He shifts on his feet and then says, "I think I hear Donna. I'd better get back."
"Yeah." Sam nods and watches Josh cringe slightly, and walk away. Josh is just opening the door as Sam turns away from the windows. "We did it," Sam repeats. His victorious tone is slightly hollow, now that he's thinking about what it cost them.
Josh smiles over his shoulder. "We really did," he says, and Sam can hear Donna's faint call. Josh walks out the door, and Sam turns back to the dusky lavender sky. Standing in the darkening shadows, he overhears Donna's excited voice as she found Josh. He can't make out the words, but he hears them laughing and knows whatever made her search for Josh isn't too serious.
Walking out of the room, Donna spots him and almost dances over, leaving Josh behind. "What do you think? Isn't it incredible?" she exclaims with a bright grin, gesturing broadly at everything around her.
Sam smiles back, and his smile almost feels the same. "I never expected the seats to be this big."
THE END
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-02-29 05:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-02-29 05:55 am (UTC)Josh/Sam angst is like that little black dress. Never goes out of fashion. *g*
no subject
Date: 2004-03-01 07:16 am (UTC)so.
damn.
good.
that is all.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-01 02:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-01 05:06 pm (UTC)I liked this. I don't really know anything about WW, but this was really well written and I got a feel for each of the characters, even without knowing them beforehand, and that's always the sign of a good fic. There's a sort of freedom in this, in the beginning especially, perhaps not so much flying as having made it to the top of a very tall mountain, and finally looking out across the world. And then the rest of the climbing party glances around and grins, and walks away; and you're left staring after them. Alone and the world before you.
I really liked the last line.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-01 05:15 pm (UTC)*beams* Thank you.
There's a sort of freedom in this, in the beginning especially, perhaps not so much flying as having made it to the top of a very tall mountain, and finally looking out across the world. And then the rest of the climbing party glances around and grins, and walks away; and you're left staring after them. Alone and the world before you.
Wow. That's a perfect way of describing it. I'm glad that the feeling of the piece came through so strongly.
I really liked the last line.
Thanks again! I really appreciated your comments.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-01 09:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-01 09:47 pm (UTC)I think this is why I end up writing more in SN. My Josh/Sam stories don't mean to be angsty, but they somehow seem to end up that way.
no subject
Date: 2005-03-27 01:45 pm (UTC)I'm sure I did read it before, when you first posted it, but it's nice to come back to it.
no subject
Date: 2005-03-27 02:30 pm (UTC)And, yeah, I know what you mean. I mena, in my case, I've been reading over my old SN PWPs, but still. It's a little nice to come back when the details have gone all fuzzy in your mind.