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Sep. 4th, 2007 09:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
helsinkibabyTitle: Schmooze Blues
Fandom: West Wing
Characters: Will/Kate
Rating: PG
Word count: 564
Notes: For the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
writers_choice “drag” challenge
The earrings are the same ones that she wore for her not-first not-date with Will, as is the necklace. The dress, on the other hand, is considerably less dressy, but it is the shade of green that Will likes best on her, halter-necked with an A-line skirt, dressy enough to be dressy, but not enough to turn heads and scandalise. Her heels are high enough to be fashionable, but not high enough that she’ll tower over Will, her hair gently curled and pulled back into a low ponytail. She looks every inch the perfect political girlfriend, but there’s one vital thing missing.
“Who are we schmoozing tonight?”
She half turns to Will, who is struggling with his bow tie, and her question seems to make him fumble even more. “It’s a DNC fundraiser,” he tells her. “So basically the entire Oregon 4th.”
“Ah.” She probably should have known that. “This is why I suck at politics.”
“Says the former Deputy National Security Adviser.”
“Hey, nuclear powers threatening World War Three, plots to invade Canada, these I can handle. Local politics is all yours.”
“The black tie bit didn’t give it away?”
In point of fact, she had noticed that they were getting a bit more dressed up than usual; she just hadn’t known why. “These things all bleed into one another,” she tells him, shrugging as she turns back to the mirror, adjusting her necklace.
To her surprise, she hears a sigh behind her. “This really isn’t your idea of a good time, is it?” For a moment, she thinks he’s joking. It’s only when she catches his eye in the mirror that she realises he’s not. “I’m sorry Kate… I know you hate these things…”
“Hey…” She goes over to him, puts her hands on his shoulders, then drops them so that she takes over the mechanics of the bow tie. “I do hate these things. But they’re part of your life now… so that means they’re part of mine too. And that’s fine.”
He sighs again, even though his tie is now perfect. “I just feel bad sometimes… dragging you into this…”
Kate chuckles, swats his shoulder. “It’s not like you tied me up and bundled me into the back of a van,” she reminds him. “I chose to come here with you; no-one made me. You didn’t drag me anywhere. Just remember that.”
“Is that an order?” His lips twitch, eyes dancing, and she knows that he believes her. It’s not the first time she’s told him that, and every time she does, it takes a little less time to convince him.
“Damn straight,” she says, stepping away from him, reaching for her wrap. “Come on, let’s get going… these shoes are already killing me.”
It’s a lie, but it changes the subject completely, and his voice is quiet when he helps arrange the wrap around her shoulders. “You look amazing you know.”
“Thank you.” His fingers brush her neck, sending chills up and down her spine and she’s very tempted to suggest a fashionably late entry.
Especially when he leans in, presses a kiss on her cheek. “I love you,” he tells her, and she turns to him, rather enjoying that the look that must be on her face makes him swallow hard.
“I love you too,” she tells him. “Now, drag me somewhere before I make us both late.”
Fandom: West Wing
Characters: Will/Kate
Rating: PG
Word count: 564
Notes: For the
writers_choice “drag” challengeThe earrings are the same ones that she wore for her not-first not-date with Will, as is the necklace. The dress, on the other hand, is considerably less dressy, but it is the shade of green that Will likes best on her, halter-necked with an A-line skirt, dressy enough to be dressy, but not enough to turn heads and scandalise. Her heels are high enough to be fashionable, but not high enough that she’ll tower over Will, her hair gently curled and pulled back into a low ponytail. She looks every inch the perfect political girlfriend, but there’s one vital thing missing.
“Who are we schmoozing tonight?”
She half turns to Will, who is struggling with his bow tie, and her question seems to make him fumble even more. “It’s a DNC fundraiser,” he tells her. “So basically the entire Oregon 4th.”
“Ah.” She probably should have known that. “This is why I suck at politics.”
“Says the former Deputy National Security Adviser.”
“Hey, nuclear powers threatening World War Three, plots to invade Canada, these I can handle. Local politics is all yours.”
“The black tie bit didn’t give it away?”
In point of fact, she had noticed that they were getting a bit more dressed up than usual; she just hadn’t known why. “These things all bleed into one another,” she tells him, shrugging as she turns back to the mirror, adjusting her necklace.
To her surprise, she hears a sigh behind her. “This really isn’t your idea of a good time, is it?” For a moment, she thinks he’s joking. It’s only when she catches his eye in the mirror that she realises he’s not. “I’m sorry Kate… I know you hate these things…”
“Hey…” She goes over to him, puts her hands on his shoulders, then drops them so that she takes over the mechanics of the bow tie. “I do hate these things. But they’re part of your life now… so that means they’re part of mine too. And that’s fine.”
He sighs again, even though his tie is now perfect. “I just feel bad sometimes… dragging you into this…”
Kate chuckles, swats his shoulder. “It’s not like you tied me up and bundled me into the back of a van,” she reminds him. “I chose to come here with you; no-one made me. You didn’t drag me anywhere. Just remember that.”
“Is that an order?” His lips twitch, eyes dancing, and she knows that he believes her. It’s not the first time she’s told him that, and every time she does, it takes a little less time to convince him.
“Damn straight,” she says, stepping away from him, reaching for her wrap. “Come on, let’s get going… these shoes are already killing me.”
It’s a lie, but it changes the subject completely, and his voice is quiet when he helps arrange the wrap around her shoulders. “You look amazing you know.”
“Thank you.” His fingers brush her neck, sending chills up and down her spine and she’s very tempted to suggest a fashionably late entry.
Especially when he leans in, presses a kiss on her cheek. “I love you,” he tells her, and she turns to him, rather enjoying that the look that must be on her face makes him swallow hard.
“I love you too,” she tells him. “Now, drag me somewhere before I make us both late.”
