NOTES:
Author: Yana
Spoilers: Hartsfield's Landing
Archive: Please ask.
Disclaimers: All the characters or mentions of characters
in this story that you find vaguely recognizable aren't mine.
AN: All my Air Force One info comes from here: http://www.boeing.com/defense-space/military/af1/
Anything not on that page is me taking creative license.
AN2: Sequel to Praying For
Turbulence.
"So I guess this is it." Josh collapses in the seat next to Donna.
The plane seems deserted, but it isn't. The President is holed up with advisors and the press is trying to sleep. He's the only senior staffer along on the trip this time, so they have the forward cabin to themselves.
"This is what?" she queries sleepily.
"Our last flight on Air Force One."
"It is?"
"Well, it's official. We have to hand over the keys in a month."
"Don't we have anything else scheduled before then?" she asks a bit petulantly.
"Nope. At least I don't think so. Do we?"
"Um... Nope." She sighs and turns towards the window, curling up so she can stare out at the stars for a while.
Josh falls silent and lets his gaze travel over his assistant.
"We had a good run, though, right?" he asks a bit later.
"Hmm?" Her head swivels back. "Yeah. It was good. Fun."
"Right." She turns back to the window. He shifts and tries to get comfortable in his seat, but there's no manly way to curl up the way Donna has.
He slumps back against the headrest and closes his eyes. "We made a difference," he mumbles to himself.
"Uh huh."
"We'll be remembered."
She turns to look at him. "What's with you?"
"Nothing."
She waits, not saying anything. When he opens his eyes, he meets her gaze immediately.
"There's still so much to do," he whispers.
"Yes." She covers his hand with hers and squeezes it. "And someone will do it."
"But what if they do it wrong?" He shakes off her hand.
"*We* survived," she says pointedly. "In spite of our first year in office."
"I know." He turns to her with a brief grin. "But that's because we're us." She smiles back at him and he continues. "The next guys? Nowhere near as brilliant."
She can't help but laugh. "Get some rest."
"Okay." He watches as she turns back to the window and snuggles in again. She's right, he thinks. We've come so far from that first year in office that now we'd barely recognise who we used to be, let alone how we used to do things. And yet...
"Donna?"
"Sleep, Josh." She doesn't turn around to look at him, but tucks her knees up to her chin. He looks enviously at her back as it curves to accomodate her legs on the chair.
He fidgets in his seat again. "This plane needs foot rests," he complains.
"Josh," she sighs, giving up any hope of getting some rest on this flight. There's only a month left, she tells herself. I've gone without sleep for longer.
"The seats are too small."
"They're really not, Josh. They're huge. We could both fit in that chair."
He coughs all of a sudden and gets up to hide that fact that his face is flushing. Him. Donna. Chair. That little fantasy had been following him around for...well, years.
"You okay?" she asks, concerned.
"Yeah." He flops back down.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to make you share a seat," she says dryly.
He grins at that."Well, you know, Donna..." He pats his thighs for emphasis and smirks at her. "You'd probably fit quite nicely in my lap."
She chuckles. "Okay, so I know I'm a little worried about my job security come January, but I have to state for the record that I'm not *that* worried."
"Well, I don't know," he teases.
She straightens up in her seat and turns her head towards him so that they're practically nose to nose. "All I need to do..."
"It's nice that you have this planned," he interrupts, grinning.
"All I need to do is show up..."
"And you're confident enough to tell me your scheme ahead of time, trusting that my knowledge of it won't impact its effectiveness. I applaud that."
"I trust that the sheer anticipation of me showing up on our last day with a hot, fresh cup of coffee..."
"Oh, *Donna*..." he mock groans.
"Will be sufficient for you to come to the realisation that you can't live without me and hire me for whatever you do next."
"I think I like the whole sharing-a-seat idea better."
"Even if I hinted that I might, at some point, bring you coffee on a regular basis?"
"Daily?"
"I was thinking annually. But we can discuss terms."
He smiles briefly at that, but then his face falls. "Donna." He turns serious, lowering his voice. "I know we haven't talked about it, but I can't guarantee..."
"I know." She leans towards him and pats his cheek gently, letting her smile fade a bit so he knows she isn't teasing anymore. "I know. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."
He leans his head against her hand. "Thanks."
"And thank you, Joshua," she whispers.
He gazes at her for a moment, until the silence becomes too solemn. Then he breaks away from her hand and chuckles. "Damn."
"What?" she asks with the beginnings of a smile on her face.
"I'm too honest. I've just screwed myself out of some hot chair sex on Air Force One, haven't I?"
"Chair sex?" she asks incredulously.
"I'm kidding, Donna," he chuckles.
"Sex. With you. In a chair." She glances disbelievingly around the cabin.
"You don't have to say it like that..."
"Chair sex."
"I was making a joke!"
"You'd better be!" she exclaims. "We are on Air Force One. The President of the United States flies on this plane!"
"I know, I know..." He holds up his hands defensively, but she continues to rant. Her voice is rising.
"Which means there are leather couches, and plush couches, and beds, in their own rooms with locks, mind you, not to mention a very big, sturdy conference table..." She tours the plane in her mind, running through all the rooms, rhyming off every flat surface that might be conducive to...
"Donna..."
"And you want to have sex in a chair?"
Suddenly her brain catches up with her mouth. She turns quickly and stares straight ahead, hoping he'll mistake her sudden flush for exasperation, not embarrassment.
Silence crowds into the cabin for a long moment. He eyes her carefully. "Um, Donna?"
Her shoulders tense; she needs a moment to squash down what she's just said before asking "What?" in what she hopes is a more normal tone.
"You've given this whole sex-on-Air-Force-One thing a lot of thought."
"Well, you apparently haven't given it enough thought," she retorts instinctively, too preoccupied with blaming chronic fatigue and stress for her earlier outburst to bother listening to herself now.
He starts in defensively. "Hey, just because I get so hot and bothered watching you curled up in that chair that I think of us..."
"We can have cramped sex on commercial flights whenever we want, but if we have the chance..."
They both break off.
"Did you just say we?"
"Did you just say us?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah."
"I shouldn't have said that," he says after a moment.
"Neither should I." Her brain has belatedly decided to take control of her mouth.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." He starts to get up.
"Josh!" She grabs his hand and pulls him back down into his seat. "It's okay."
"It's okay," he repeats. Somehow, that wasn't the reaction he'd been hoping for.
"I mean...I didn't mind."
"You didn't mind," he says slowly. Not that he'd really expected her to say anything else, but it would have been nice if just once, his fantasies had even vaguely approached reality.
She studies his carefully bland expression and realises he's masking something else, but she's not sure what. What the hell, she thinks. Only one month left, and I probably won't get another opening like this. Taking a deep breath, she makes the decision.
"I think about you," she owns.
She's rewarded by the look of utter shock on his face. "What?"
"I think about you," she repeats, feeling herself blush. "You know..."
He stares at her for a second without saying anything. "Me and you?" he asks finally. "Doing..."
"Yeah." she affirms. Somehow, this wasn't the uninhibited declaration of her fantasies she'd imagined. She sits there, waiting for his response, feeling more and more awkward as the seconds tick by.
"On a plane?" he asks, slowly.
"On this plane," she confirms.
"You and me?" he asks again.
Her tension suddenly turns to irritation. "No, Josh," she snaps, pulling her hand away. "Me and Toby, on the couch in the private office. Me and Sam, in the President's bedroom. And maybe for variety, CJ and I could take the conference table out for a spin."
He grins. "Okay."
She leans towards him hesitantly. "Josh..."
He leans in too; his lips hover an inch from hers and he pauses for a moment, letting her breath warm his face. "Join me," he says softly.
"What?" She pulls back.
He pats the two inches of free space next to him in his seat. She raises her eyebrows, but gets up to stand in front of him.
"Anyone could walk by," she points out, looking down at him.
"Noone will," he says firmly, pulling at her hand.
She continues to hesitate. "Why?"
"We're the only ones here."
"No, I mean, why am I climbing into your lap?"
"Because." He tugs her closer and looks up at the small frown on her face. Suddenly the words are easy. "Because I think about you too."
"You do?"
"Yeah. A lot." He gives her a small smile and leans forward to catch her other hand as well.
She relents and slides her weight slowly onto his lap. Silence fills the cabin for a long moment as their eyes meet.
"Besides," he finally continues, tugging her bottom closer to him. "There's an argument to be made that none of that matters anymore. We'll be out of the White House in a month."
She relaxes and gives a low chuckle, circling his neck with her arms. "Are you saying that I can take dictation like this in the office from now on?"
He lets his hand drift to her breast and he squeezes it lightly. Her nipple appears almost immediately and he flicks it a couple of times with his thumb. He grins widely at the little whimper she makes.
"Would you be able to concentrate on what I was saying?"
She retaliates by tickling him. "Would you?" she laughs as he squirms.
"On a plane," he says again, capturing her arms and putting them around his neck again.
"Not just on a plane," she assures him.
"Really."
"There was this one time in the Oval -"
"Oh, god..." His head falls back on the headreast.
"Right on top of the Presidential Seal. It seems a little, I don't know..."
"Uncomfortable?"
"I was going to say sacrilegious. Why uncomfortable?"
"I dunno. Which one of us was getting rug burn?" he smirks.
She swats him. "Well, that couldn't happen anyway."
"No," he agrees.
"You'd be a complete wuss about rug burn," she teases, even though that's not the way her fantasy usually goes.
"Hey!"
"So where do you picture us?" she retorts.
"Right here," he says firmly, tightening his arms around her.
She smiles at that. "Where else?"
He rolls his eyes and grins. "Well, there's this little fantasy I have where we're in my office..."
"Really?" She wriggles a bit in his arms, getting interested.
"And it's lunchtime, and you ask what I want to eat, and I say..." He leers at her.
"Okay, I get the idea," she laughs. "So, Mr. Lyman." She brings her face close to his and he responds by pulling her body tight against him. "Am I to assume that your desk will be getting a workout over the next few weeks?"
He groans. "Maybe we should stick to locations not funded by the taxpayer."
"Like this plane?" she murmurs, smiling, as she brushes the corner of his mouth with her lips.
He sucks in his breath sharply. "Make an exception," he mumbles as he turns to find her mouth.
***
Their kissing goes from tentative to frenzied in seconds. He can't get enough of her tongue and strokes it enthusiastically with his. She moans and pulls his head as close as she can, crushing his mouth, and he responds by clutching her body to his forcefully. She gasps a bit but concentrates on ravaging his mouth.
He's always imagined he wouldn't be able to think clearly when Donna kissed him, but this can't compare. He can't think of anything but her - he's been reduced to a mouth and arms and a burgeoning erection, all zeroed in on the writhing, moaning weight in his lap. She's devouring him, pressing herself into him as though she were trying to merge with him completely, and he's helpless to do anything but encourage her.
It's a shock, then, when she suddenly breaks their kiss and pushes away from him a bit. It takes him a second to recover. He blinks and looks up at her face. She's trying to catch her breath, and he can't help but grin. She's so far beyond pleasantly mussed - her lipstick is nearly non-existent, her silky hair is tangled from his fingers, and her face is flushing pink.
"Josh," she reminds him between breaths. "Anyone could walk by."
"I don't care," he says. He reaches to cup her head and she lets her lips meet his.
She burrows against his body again, wrapping her arms around his torso and rubbing herself up against the solid wall of his chest. Though they start slower this time, it's not long before his kisses have returned her to breathless frenzy again. She feels him getting hard against her thigh, and she shifts back and forth in his lap a bit as she thrusts her tongue against his .
"Donna," he groans finally, breaking away.
"Yeah?" She can't manage more than one word.
"Bed."
"Huh?"
"You said there's a bed."
"Right." She slides off him and pulls him to his feet. He immediately cups her bottom and pulls her tight against his erection. His lips meet hers again.
"Josh," she says between kisses.
"What?" He pauses only long enough to say the word.
"Bed."
He doesn't answer right away; his mouth is busy exploring hers. Several moments later he pulls away with a sigh. "Right," he says, stepping back.
She grins and reaches into his inner pocket for his handkerchief. "You really can't go anywhere looking like this," she says, wiping her lipstick off his face.
"You better do yourself, too," he says goodnaturedly, tucking her blouse back into her skirt. She warms to the feel of his fingers at her waist.
She straightens his tie and sees to herself. "Presentable?" she asks.
"Always. But how far is this bed?"
"It's just down the corridor," she laughs, "But we do have to go past the President's meeting."
"Lead on." He makes a 'you first' gesture with his arm and she heads purposefully down the length of the plane.
***
He's relieved to see that the guest quarters are far past the conference room. Somehow, the idea of sharing a wall with the President makes him nervous. He walks a couple of paces behind her and tries to concentrate on the swing of her hair as she walks rather than the sway of her hips.
All bets are off, though, as soon as she gets him in the small room. She slams him up against the door while she's still locking it with one hand. Her mouth is back on his, her tongue diving in over and over, while her hands are shucking off his clothes. His jacket goes first, tossed haphazardly aside, then his tie is unknotted and slides off his collar with so much speed that he feels the friction through his shirt. She unbuttons and disposes that as well, her mouth never leaving his, and his belt follows the same way as the tie.
Suddenly her mouth departs as she slips down out of his grasp. She's hooked her thumbs under the waist of his boxers and taken them and his pants down. He stands there helplessly naked as she crouches at his feet, undoing his shoes so that she can get his clothing off completely.
"Donna," he tries. "I can't reach you down there."
She doesn't say anything as she pulls one shoe off, but turns her head to place an open-mouth kiss on his leg, just above his knee.
He groans. "Donna..."
"I'm hurrying, Josh." She gets his other shoe off and he winces as her fingernails scrape his ankle.
"Ow."
"Sorry. Just getting the socks as well."
"What if I get cold-- Oh. Donna."
She tongues the inside of his thigh. "You're bringing the jokes?"
"No, no, no..." he groans as her mouth moves upwards. "I just - Oh."
She reaches his cock and drags her tongue over the tip a few times before taking him all the way inside.
"God! No. No!" He pulls her away from him and she releases him. "Don't do that."
She grins. "I'm so going to remember you said that," she jokes, climbing to her feet.
"Donna - "
She decides to silence him by pushing him back against the door again and kissing him fiercely. She's still in her heels, which means she's taller than he is, and she enjoys the angle.
"Donna," he breaks off a moment later, pushing her away. "You need to take your clothes off. Now."
"Okay." She steps back and kicks off her shoes. She sends her skirt and pantyhose flying before looking up to see him staring at her intensely.
Her eyes don't leave his as he steps closer and pulls her blouse off. She shivers as he undoes her bra and exposes her to the open air. He gives the tip of each breast a wet kiss, then kneels in front of her. His fingers graze her thighs as he strips off her panties and moves her legs apart
He presses his mouth up against her sex and she cries out "Josh!" in surprise.
"You know, this room probably isn't completely soundproof," he reminds her before sending his tongue towards her again.
"Josh!" she cries out again.
"Shhh." he grins.
"I can't stand while you do that."
"Then sit." He backs her towards the berth, smirking. "Pretend you're sitting on my desk and just asked me what I want to eat for lunch."
"Josh," she chides, though she can't help but snicker.
"And then I say, 'What's available?'" he continues playfully. He sits her down on the very edge of the bed so he can reach her and kneels on the floor. "And then you say, 'Well I can think of one place that's open, Mr. Lyman,' and I say 'Really, where?'"
"Josh!" She's laughing now as he tickles the backs of her knees and moves her legs apart.
"And then you sa-mmph..."
"You're killing the mood, here," she admonishes, giggling, keeping his face pressed firmly against her belly.
He blows a raspberry on her skin and she releases him, still laughing.
"Just for that..." He trails off and dips his head to tongue her sex.
"Oh,"she exhales and lets herself fall back on the bed, winding her fingers through his hair.
He raises his head briefly, replacing his mouth with his hand momentarily. "Let me know if there's anything -"
"More, Josh," she gasps, and he chuckles.
"I've wanted to hear you say that for so long," he grins, slipping two fingers inside her.
"Josh," she whimpers.
"Just like that," he sighs. He lets his fingers stroke her inner walls and lowers his mouth to her sex again.
"Oh, Josh." She repeats his name twice, three times, then once more as she spirals over into release.
As her breathing slows to normal he leaves her and crouches over their clothes, rummaging around for his wallet.
She props herself up on her elbows and smiles. "You sure that thing hasn't expired?"
"I replace them when that happens...uh. Or rather, I would. If they stayed in there long enough to expire. Which they don't."
"Really?" she grins.
"You know, for someone who just had an orgasm and is about to have another, you really should watch the attitude."
She smirks. "Let me make it up to you." She slides off the bed onto the floor beside him. He liberates the condom just as she pounces on him and lands him flat on his back.
"Okay," he agrees quickly as she starts to kiss her way down his chest. "Hey, wait."
She lifts her head and looks at him questioningly.
"How did you know I kept one there?"
She grins and lowers her head again, intent on playing with his nipple.
He groans as she flicks it with her tongue. "This is one of those times when you seek to control me," he mutters, half to himself.
"How am I doing?" she asks as she takes hold of his cock and squeezes a bit.
"Now, Donna." The playfulness is suddenly gone from his voice and she doesn't argue.
"Condom?" She takes it from him and pulls it open, rolling it onto him quickly.
He rolls them over so he's on top. "Is this okay?" he asks.
The carpet is a bit rough, but she thinks she can handle it. She smiles up at him. "Very, very okay."
His fingers reach down to spread her and she arches her hips to help him guide himself in. He takes his first entry slowly, pushing farther and deeper until his cock is completely buried inside her.
She can tell he's straining to hold on as he asks her again if she's okay. It takes her a moment to adjust to his width, but as soon as she does she tightens her muscles around him and nods.
He pulls back and thrusts in again, then again. "I'm sorry, Donna," he groans as he moves, "I don't this is going to last long."
"I don't care," she cries out. "Just keep going."
"Right," he grunts. His hips speed up and he buries his face in her neck.
The intensity of feeling is overwhelming her and she whimpers as he pushes into her. She presses her mouth to his shoulder to muffle her noises.
His thrusts are building in intensity. "Donna, please," he pleads, moving away just enough to slip a hand between them and provide her with some added stimulation.
His shoulder is out of reach of her mouth and she can't control her wail of pleasure. She cries out "Josh!" as she comes again, clenching around him hard.
He moves inside her a few more times and she starts to buck her hips up to meet him. Soon he's bending to kiss her to stifle his own cries as she pushes him over into oblivion.
***
He finally collapses on top of her, exhausted. "Donna." Looking down at her fondly, he traces her cheeks with his fingers.
"Josh." She smiles back up.
He slips his softening erection out of her and rolls onto his side. "I'm sorry we didn't make it to the bed," he grins, stroking the soft skin of her belly.
She laughs - the low throaty laugh of a well-satisfied woman, he thinks - and says, "That's okay."
"We land in what? An hour? I just don't think I'll be ready again before then."
"What about the limo back to the office?"
"Maybe by then," he smirks.
"So no conference table sex for us either?"
"Well, the President is using that table at the moment. "
"And now we never will," she jokes. "Damn. Should've thought about that earlier."
He stops smiling and leans down to kiss her forehead. "We really should have."
She looks up at him with a pensive face. "Thought about this earlier?"
"Done this earlier," he clarifies, gazing down at her.
She lifts her head to peck his lips. "Yeah."
"Move this to the bed?" he asks.
"Sure." They get up off the floor and slip under the covers, spooning together.
***
"Mmmm," she murmurs as he traces patterns lightly on her breasts and belly. It's as though he can't get enough of touching her skin. She nestles into the curve of his body.
They lay in warm silence for several minutes, listening to the hum of the plane engines.
***
"Sam's going to be President," he says suddenly.
"What?" She turns her head to look at him.
"The President told him that a while back. Sam didn't know what to make of it."
"Sam would make a good president," she says, settling back down again. She kisses the arm he's slung over her shoulder.
***
"I'm just saying that," he says a few minutes later. "Because, you know, we might get another shot at that conference table."
She slowly turns over in his arms and smiles. "I'll remember to book the room next time."
"You do that," he grins back.
She kisses his jaw. "And then, you know, we can take one of those chairs out for a spin."
"Promise?"
"As long as you talk Sam into letting us use that big leather couch in the private office too."
"Donna -" He shakes his head and shifts her so he can kiss her lips properly. "You realise that by the time Sam gets elected, I'll be an old man."
"Too old?" She grins against his mouth, pressing her hips against his and wriggling a bit.
"Aah..." he grunts as he feels his cock spring to life again. "Apparently, I'll never be too old for you."
"Oh, good." She kisses him once more, smiling, then slides her head under the covers.
"Donna," he groans as her lips move over him, heading inexorably towards his erection. "You may kill me before I get - oh..." He sighs as she takes him in her mouth.
She slips her hand around his base and lets her lips and tongue rove up and down his shaft. He winds his hands in her hair. She takes her time exploring his stomach and thighs, then cups his balls in her hand and squeezes them very gently.
He groans and she returns her attention to his cock, licking every crevice before her lips start to slide up and down his length. He's been moaning occasionally as she tries something new, but now he goes silent.
She can hear his breath getting harsher as she continues and she begins to move more rapidly, letting her hand follow her mouth to provide some extra pressure. His breath catches and she takes that as encouragement to stroke him even faster.
"Donna," he grates out, clutching her hair. "I'm gonna..."
She hums her acknowledgement and keeps going, encasing him with her slim fingers and warm, wet mouth over and over again.
He moans incoherently and his hips lift off the bed as he explodes. She's ready; she feels his semen warm the back of her throat and she swallows it all down.
She lets him slip out of her mouth when he's done and kisses her way back up to his jaw.
He pulls her into his arms. "That was..." he begins. "You are...I..."
She opens her mouth, ready to tease him, and he covers it with his own, kissing her slowly. She moans a little and settles her body against his so that she can feel all of him as he deepens the kiss. Content to settle down and make out with him for a while, she gasps when his hands begin to stray down her body to arouse her once more.
***
Later, they spoon together again.
She's not ready to process the full implications of his earlier words - words that hinted they'd still be togeether years from now.
He breathes deeply and enjoys the silence. If she turns him down later, he thinks, at least they will have had this time together.
***
The plane starts to bank smoothly and Donna suddenly realises that they're probably on a final approach. Screeching, she jumps out of bed and starts hunting through their clothes, tossing Josh's at him as she goes. He laughes at her as she struggles to put her pantyhose on quickly.
"C'mon, Josh." She chides him for sitting in bed, doing nothing. "We need to be out there with our seatbelts on."
"I know," he laughs. "But you're beautiful when you're stressed."
She pauses to give him a look and he pulls her towards him to kiss her one last time.
"Okay. Now will you get up?" she asks with a bit of a smile.
"Okay."
They dress quickly and he runs his hands through his hair, trying to smooth it down. He feels her fingers brush across his chest as she reaches into his jacket pocket.
"What do you need my pen for?" he asks.
"This." She twists her hopelessly tangled hair up into a knot and shoves the pen through to hold it.
"That's a good pen!" he protests.
"And it serves multiple purposes," she retorts.
He gives in and grins. "C'mon." He grabs her hand and peeks out the door. "The coast is clear."
He hurries down the corridor with her in tow and almost runs into an opening door. "Mr. President!"
"Hi Josh, Donna. You're in a bit of a hurry. Where were you?"
"Oh, uh." Josh realises that he can't take his eyes off the President if he wants to sell whatever it is he's about to say. "We weren't comfortable in those chairs. Donna mentioned there were beds back there."
"There certainly are." The President pats Josh's back and Josh realises belatedly that he probably should have let go of Donna's hand sooner. He does now and she falls in step behind them, her face a mask of polite interest.
"Good for you," the President continues. "It's about time."
Josh suddenly flushes. "I'm sorry?"
"You and Donna, taking advantage of the staterooms. I know I'm only supposed to use them when we're flying dignitaries around with me, but you guys should really use them on long flights."
Josh recovers a bit and smiles. "I wish I'd known that earlier, sir. Donna tells me I don't have another reason to fly with you before we hand it over."
"Ah, well, you got to try it out once, anyway."
"Yes, sir."
"You know, I think I'll sit in the swivel chair in my office while we land. It doesn't have a seatbelt."
"That - that sounds like fun, sir."
"Gotta live a little. Off you kids go." He dismisses them with another
pat on Josh's shoulder and watches them both stride down the corridor,
keeping several feet of space between them and yet still in step. He chuckles
to himself, recalling their expressions. "About time indeed," he
mutters under his breath.
THE END