With Science
NOTES:
Author: Yana
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: S4-S5 cliffhanger resolution
Disclaimers: The West Wing -- not mine. I know the other stories
on this site can also be taken as evidence of why The West Wing and its characters
aren't mine and why I'm not making any material profit, y'know, ever...but seriously...this
one takes the cake.
Archive: Please ask.
AN: Everything I know about the supernatural I learned on
the Internet. ;)
A feminine scream echoed through the halls of the West Wing.
Josh’s head jerked up at the sound. Sam’s in trouble, he thought.
No, wait. Sam was in California now. He wouldn’t be in the White House, screaming that embarassingly girly scream of his.
Josh grinned to himself. The last time he had heard Sam scream like that...well, that was years ago and far behind them both. Good times, though.
Curious, he left his office, looking for the source of the commotion. He didn’t have far to go. Donna, her face drained of colour, was standing rigidly, staring at one of the glass partitions that blocked off her cubicle.
A small crowd surrounded her. It was as if everyone in the bullpen had instantly congregated when they'd heard her scream, but Donna didn’t appear to notice them. She was rooted in place, appearing to see something no one else could.
“Donna?” He pushed his way through the mass of people to stand beside her. She was still staring at the glass partition, her face etched with fear. Concerned, he touched her cold hand. “Donna?”
Suddenly her eyes slammed shut and she swayed, apparently released from whatever force had taken hold of her. He caught her arm, afraid she might topple over.
“Okay,” he murmured in her ear. “Come with me.”
She didn’t respond, but kept her head down as he led her through the crowd of curious, concerned people to his office.
“Nothing to see,” he called out to nobody in particular. “Everything’s fine.”
But everything wasn’t fine, he thought as he closed his office door behind them. Donna had apparently snapped, probably from overwork, and that was only to be expected because...
“I haven’t snapped,” she muttered, shaking off the daze she'd been in.
He froze, his hand still on her arm. “Uh, did I say that out loud?”
“I haven’t snapped,” she repeated. “And you were about to blame yourself. It wouldn’t be your fault, even if I did start screaming in the middle of the bullpen for no apparent reason.”
“I wasn’t blaming...”
“You were.”
“I was,” he admitted. Turning so that he faced her fully, he prepared himself to ask the question. “Are you okay?”
She hesitated.
Oh, god, he thought. She doesn’t know. Maybe she really is having a breakdown. Out loud, he prompted, “Donna...”
“I, ah...” Her voice wavered.
Damn. “Take the rest of the day off,” he said, guiding her to one of the visitor's chairs and pressing her into the seat. “Have a nap. Do girly things. Relax.”
“No! You need help on the EPA thing.”
Despite her words, he could tell she wanted to take him up on his offer. “And you need some time off,” he urged. “If you can’t tell me why you were screaming, then maybe you don’t know. And if you don’t know, then you need time to...”
“I do know!”
“You do?” He waited.
“Yes,” she said eventually.
But she didn’t say anything else.
He waited a few more seconds. “And?” he asked finally.
She hesitated another moment, then said, “You have to promise you won’t freak out.”
Oh, god, that couldn't be good. He stepped back, releasing her arm. “Okay.”
“You’re freaking out,” she accused.
He was. “No, I’m not,” he lied, trying to keep his imagination at bay. He took another step back, putting some distance between them.
“You are," she said, watching him circle to his side of the desk. "I haven’t even said anything, and you’re already bundling me off to the funny farm.”
“Donna! I’m not. And besides,” he tried to lighten the mood, “I don’t think they have farms any more. They have modern treatment facilities that just happen to be situated on reclaimed farm land.”
She didn't even crack a smile. “Not a joke.”
“Not a good one,” he agreed morosely, sinking down into his chair. “So what is it?”
She frowned.
“Donna...”
“I’m trying to figure out...”
"Figure out what?"
"What..." She paused, her frown deepening.
“Just say it!”
“I know, I just...”
“Donna!”
“I can read your mind.”
******
“I beg your pardon?” Josh said. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
“I can read your mind,” Donna repeated more firmly.
It was worse than he thought. She had gone off the deep end. He sank back heavily in his chair.
“Josh, I know it's hard to believe, but...”
“You can’t read my mind, Donna.”
“Yes I can. Just now, when I screamed? I saw blood on the glass and then suddenly I could hear everyone’s thoughts.”
“Everyone’s thoughts?” he repeated dumbly.
“Yes! They all crowded into my head at once, and it was like an overload, and I...you know...screamed.” She shrugged, then slumped back in her chair.
“You can’t read people’s minds.” He was beginning to sound like a broken record.
“Yes, I can.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Yes, I can.”
“What am I thinking right now?”
“That I’ve gone off the deep end.”
“It doesn’t take a mind reader to guess that.”
She stood suddenly. "You know, I think I've had enough of this conversation," she snapped.
"Go home, Donna. Get some sleep."
"You need me."
"Not like this," he said gently. "Take the day."
She hesitated, and for a moment he saw her waver over his offer.
Then she cleared her throat. “When you heard me scream, you thought about Sam.”
He jerked back in his chair, stunned. “What?”
“I was hearing a lot of stuff all at once, but that came through loud and clear. Maybe I’m more tuned to you than anyone else.”
He shook his head, refusing to believe it. “No.”
“Yes.”
“Fine." Humour her, he thought. Just long enough to get her to agree to go home and get some sleep. Aloud, he said, "We’ll test you.”
“Bring it on,” she bit out, irritated.
He stared at the files strewn across his desk for a moment, then shut his eyes. “What am I thinking about now?”
“That you’d like to screw Haffley over permanently.”
He cracked an eyelid. “I’m always thinking that.”
“True.” A faint grin crossed her face, and she seemed to relax.
He thought about his mother.
Her smile grew as she told him so.
He thought about Zoey, and her trauma.
“She’ll be fine, Josh. You’ll be there for her.”
“Can you see into the future too?”
“No.”
“So you don’t know that she’ll be fine,” he said tersely.
“Josh...”
“No! You were just trying to placate me.”
“Comfort you,” she corrected. “You will be there for her, and so will her family. I don’t need to see into the future to know that.”
He let the subject drop. “Okay, let me try something a little harder.” He concentrated.
She was reciting even before he finished. “You’re going to get Mayard on board with the EPA by giving Lowitz a conditional yes on Japan.”
“That’s right,” he agreed slowly.
“Lowitz is going to put the squeeze on Perelli, and Perelli, naturally, will call in a favour from Mayard.”
His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward in his chair. “And why does Mayard owe Perelli a favour?”
“Because...oh.”
“Because...” He waited for her to finish.
Donna paused. “Wow. I didn’t know Mayard was that kind of woman.”
“I don’t know if she is or isn’t," he snickered.
“Ah,” Donna said dryly.
He grinned. "But at least that one time, she...” He trailed off, realizing what had just happened.
She grinned back at him.
“Donna...” he said, dumbfounded.
“Yes?”
“You can read minds!”
“Yes, yes I can.” Her smile relaxed as the last of the tension left her.
His own brain was suddenly overflowing with the possibilities. “This is terrific! Okay, it’s gonna work like this. From now on, when we set up a meeting, you’ll give the schmucks a thirty-second once over before you bring ‘em back, and then give me a quick rundown...”
“No.”
He ignored her. “Do you think we could work out a set of signals? So you could stay in the room during the meeting, let me know what’s going on in those little mean-spirited minds...”
“No!”
“Donna!”
“No, Josh!”
“Why not?” he whined.
“That would be cheating!”
“There’s no such thing as cheating in politics, Donna! Have you learned nothing from me? We’re professional political operatives! We cheat, we steal, we take candy from babies, we...”
“Occasionally pull a Mayard?”
“Pull is an interesting verb to use, there, considering the circumstances,” he smirked.
She didn’t laugh. “Not going to happen, Josh.”
“But Donna...”
“No.”
“Fine.” He slumped back in his chair, a resigned expression plastered on his face, and tried to think up ways to charm her into doing what he wanted.
“Not going to happen,” she said again.
“Damn.” He’d forgotten. “Do you have some kind of range on this thing?”
“If I do, I’d hardly tell you under the circumstances.”
“Seriously,” he said, trying to bring the conversation back to its original topic. “Apart from anything else, I need to know if you’re going to start screaming again for no apparent reason.”
She sighed and shut her eyes, appearing to concentrate. “I can hear other people right now, but it’s faint,” she said. “I don’t think I’m going to scream again. It’s just like...” She paused. “It’s like I hear voices outside the door, but I can ignore them. Like I can hear my neighbours through the walls of my apartment...”
“Your apartment sucks.”
“Yes.”
“So you can’t make out actual words?”
She shut her eyes, frowning. “Janice just walked by. She’s been pulled to temp for communications next week.”
“No!” Janice was a good worker.
“Yes. They just told her. And she’s pissed, because she’d already arranged to switch with someone in our bullpen so that she could go to a Star Trek marathon next Saturday night.”
“You got all that?”
“Yeah. And I think she was cursing to herself in Klingon.”
“You don’t speak Klingon?” he grinned. “So what you’re saying is, I can’t use you in foreign policy meetings if you don’t speak the language?”
“You won’t be using me at all,” she said firmly, getting up to leave.
He sighed and rose from his seat as well. “Wait. We need to figure this out.”
"All of it?" she asked wryly. "Like what exactly has happened to me? And why? And how to stop it?"
She was more stressed than she let on, he realized. He came around the desk to stand next to her. “I take it you don't want anyone knowing about your new ability?”
She paused, then shook her head. “I’d rather not. It would make things weird.”
Really weird, he thought. Something like this was bound to make people uncomfortable. He wasn’t uncomfortable, of course, but that was different. “As soon as you walk out that door, people are going to ask why you screamed. What are we going to tell them?”
They’d have to think up a good story. He didn't want people acting weird around her...and he hadn’t yet let go of the idea of using her as his secret weapon.
She frowned at him and he cursed to himself. He was going to need to watch what he was thinking when she was near.
Out loud, though, she didn’t bother telling him ‘no’ yet again. “A mouse?”
“A mouse?” he repeated. “You saw a mouse and screamed?”
“Uh, sure.”
“You like mice.”
“They’re cute and fuzzy.”
“And you’re not the ‘stand on a chair and scream helplessly’ type, either.”
“So a mouse isn’t going to work?”
He thought for a moment. “How about a spider?”
She shuddered.
“That might work,” he said. “You look disgusted when I mention them. Everyone would be able to tell you don’t like spiders.”
“Yes. But I’m kind of the ‘squash spiders immediately’ type.”
“It would be a big spider. Plus...” He thought for a moment. “Plus you’d just got some disturbing news from home. You read your e-mail and your little cousin Jimmy...”
“Jamie.”
“Was bitten...”
“We didn’t know he had an allergy,” she supplied, getting into the spirit of things.
“And he only just made it to the hospital on time. You were shaken, and then when you looked up from the screen...”
“Big hairy spider.”
“You could pull that off,” he assured her, squeezing her arm encouragingly. "It's a little lame, but you took drama..."
She gave him a faint smile. “I did.”
“Plus,” he warmed to his idea, “it would explain why you were staring at the glass like you’d just seen a ghost. A spider could crawl across that glass and disappear...”
“Blood,” she said. Her face went pale again, her skin suddenly turning cold to his touch.
She focused her frightened gaze on him. “Blood,” she repeated. “That’s why I screamed. There was blood on the glass.”
******
She looked truly shaken and he pulled her closer, gripping her upper arms firmly. “Donna?”
“I saw it,” she whispered. “I looked up...it was splattered red all across the glass, and then...it started to drip down...slowly...and then suddenly all these people were in my head.”
“There was no actual blood,” he said helplessly.
She jerked away. “Well, then it was virtual blood,” she snapped. “Psychic blood. Whatever.”
She was trembling, and he wished he could erase whatever vision she’d had. “I believe you,” he said.
She swayed and he enfolded her in a hug. The shock was suddenly catching up with her, he realized. She shivered in his arms and he squeezed her tighter, hoping to make her feel safe.
Then he realized he could do more than hold her. Letting her bury her face against his neck, he concentrated on comforting her. She was safe, he thought. He wouldn’t let anything hurt her. He was strong. She was safe. He was powerful. She was safe. He would always take care of her. She was safe. Warm. Safe. Powerful. Strong. The thoughts blended together over and over again in his mind and she clung to him more tightly, seeming to draw on the strength in his thoughts.
Eventually, she lifted her head and rested her forehead against his. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“I meant it,” he said.
“I know.”
“We’ll figure this out.”
“Together?”
“Together,” he assured her. “And you’re going to be so grateful, you’re going to...”
“No, Josh.”
“Damn.” He grinned, and she did too, the tension draining out of her body.
Then she pulled away and looked at her watch. “You have Lowitz in seven minutes.”
“Cancel.”
“No.”
“It’s okay, Donna. We’ll do this first.”
“No, Josh. You need to take this meeting. Besides, the sooner you do that, the sooner Mayard will be here, and I’ve always wanted to know...”
“Donna!”
“I’m just saying. That’s not something you hear about every day.”
“I thought you were only going to use your powers for good.”
“When did I say that?” She smirked.
“Donna!”
“My good,” she clarified, still smug. “Using my powers for my good, not yours.”
“How about the country’s good?” he asked, clutching at straws.
“Nice try.” She went to the door.
“Think about it.”
She hesitated, her hand on the doorknob, and he realized she was reluctant to leave.
“You okay to go out there alone?”
Taking a deep breath, she nodded. Then she opened the door and strode out, as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
As always when she left his office, he let his eyes linger on her ass for just a moment. He heard her footsteps pause in the hall, briefly, before resuming their pace to her cubicle.
Damn. He’d forgotten--again--that she could hear his thoughts. He always checked out her ass...it was fabulous. And it was the one thing he could usually ogle surreptitiously at the office without anyone noticing. Though doing so made him feel just a teensy bit like he was perpetuating that ‘dirty old boss with young nubile secretary’ stereotype.
Not that he was old, per se. And she was definitely younger than him, but not young enough to be nubile...
A stack of files crashed outside his door.
Crap. Not that she didn’t have an incredibly hot body, he amended hastily, but the word ‘nubile’ carried a postpubescent connotation that didn’t necessarily apply to a woman of her...
“Don’t even bother,” she interrupted him from the doorway.
“Sorry.”
She turned to leave. Reflexively, he checked out her ass again and then swore out loud when she paused before walking off.
He was going to have to break himself of that habit.
*****
He loved her.
He’d always known there was a reason why they’d worked so well together, and this afternoon had made it clearer than ever.
She couldn’t resist a sweet political win any more than he could. She was, in fact, the perfect woman.
Sinking back in his chair, he put his feet up on the desk and his hands behind his head, and basked in the knowledge of a job well done.
Her initial misgivings about “using her powers for evil” had apparently evaporated when Lowitz had wandered into the West Wing thinking very explicitly about how he was going to screw Josh over with the three extra votes in his back pocket.
She’d smiled at him, apologized that Josh was running a little late, and given him a cup of coffee. Then she’d hurried into Josh’s office.
“He’s going to try and screw you over.”
Josh’s head had shot up. “What?”
He hadn’t even paused to tease her. They worked swiftly, in sync, and ten minutes and five phone calls had put Lowitz right back where Josh had wanted him.
He supposed it wouldn’t be prudent to come out of a closed-door meeting with Lowitz and ask her to type up minutes. But he’d been tempted.
He’d wanted to show her off. Because she was perfect. The best assistant, the best woman he could have ever asked to travel this lonely, exalted path with him. A true helpmeet, someone of infinite...
“Oh, for crying out loud,” she said from the doorway. “Do you do this often?”
He grinned, unapologetic. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
“Yes,” she said shortly.
Standing, he grabbed his jacket and slung his bag over his shoulder. “Have dinner with me.”
She eyed him. “Are you going to be in this mood?”
“Would it help?”
“No.”
“Then no,” he said agreeably, wondering how best to convince her to continue using her new powers for evil.
She snorted.
The country, he corrected himself.
“Whatever.”
“Get your things.”
He followed her out to her cubicle and watched as she began tidying her desk.
She’d just opened her drawer to grab her purse when she froze, her blonde head bent and immobile.
He immediately sensed something was wrong. Moving to stand beside her, he looked down into the open desk drawer and saw nothing except her purse and a few office supplies. When he glanced up at her face, though, he could tell she was seeing something very different.
Putting his arm around her rigid waist, he murmured, “It’s okay. Breathe.”
A moment later she jerked her head up, squeezing her eyes shut as she took a deep, shuddering breath.
She was starting to turn pale again. He grabbed her purse and slammed the desk drawer shut. “Come on.” He led her back to his office and closed the door behind them, just as he had earlier in the day. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close and concentrated on his mantra of comforting thoughts, wanting to make her feel safe once more.
Even when the tension in her body had relaxed, though, she didn’t say anything right away. He rubbed her back. “Another spider?” he teased gently.
Her laugh sounded more like a sob. “Yeah.”
“Same thing as before?”
“It was all over the inside of the drawer.”
“Blood?”
“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “Spattered there. Congealing.”
He winced and squeezed her tight. “Do you know whose it was?”
She shook her head and buried her face against his shoulder.
“Do you know why it’s there?”
Her voice was muffled. “No.”
“Do you suddenly have more super powers?” he joked.
She gave a choked laugh. “I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure? You’re not holding out on me just because I might ask you to use them for evil?”
“For the good of the country,” she corrected.
“Whatever.”
She paused. “I’m sure.”
“If I find out later that you can shoot laser beams out of your eyes, there’s going to be trouble.”
Pulling away, she smacked his arm lightly. He grinned. She finally seemed to relax, and he hoped she’d put all thoughts of the vision out of her mind.
“I need to figure this out,” she told him bluntly.
He nodded. “I know.”
“I need to research.”
“That’s your natural instinct,” he agreed.
“It’s not yours?”
“That’s why I have you--ow!” He rubbed his arm.
“Focus, Josh. I’ve already checked the White House archives.”
“And you don’t think it’s one of the White House ghosts haunting you?”
“Abigail Adams doing laundry? Andrew Jackson, hanging around a bedroom? They’re not visions-of-blood types. Maybe Lincoln. And apparently, Mrs. Madison gets really tense about her rosebushes.”
“You want to go look in the basement for the black cat spirit that turned up just before Kennedy was shot?”
She shuddered. “No.”
“Good. Neither do I.”
There was a brief silence, and he realized she was looking at him speculatively. “What?” he asked.
“I didn’t expect you to accept this so quickly.”
“What? That you can read minds? You gave me some pretty solid evidence there.”
“No...the ghost thing. The blood. The visions. You’re not being...you.”
He grinned at that. “You have a skill, Donnatella, that would be very useful. Knowing you have that skill and helping you use it is more important to me than tracing its origin. But if you go off the deep end in the process...”
“Then I’m not useful?”
“Then I’d lose not only that skill, but the best assistant I’ve ever had.”
“I’m the only assistant you’ve ever had.”
“Compliment, Donnatella.”
She hugged him. “I know.”
He returned the hug with interest. “Twelve hours ago I wouldn’t have believed you could read minds. Now, demonstrably, you can, so I have no choice but to believe you. If your mind reading suddenly coincides with seeing visions, I have to believe in the visions too. So let’s figure it all out at once.”
She squeezed him one more time before pulling back. “Okay.”
“Okay.” He gave her a smile. “So you don’t think it’s ghosts?”
“I really don’t. The West Wing burned down in ‘29, so it’s difficult to tell, but I’m pretty confident my desk isn’t directly over the site of a death or anything.”
He thought for a moment. “What about this new superpower of yours?”
“That’s my next question.”
“ESP?”
“Maybe.” She frowned.
He handed over her purse. “We’ll use my computer at home so the Secret Service doesn’t decide to flag your file.”
She opened the door for him. “You think the First Lady has a flag on her file?”
“Because of the ouija board?”
“Yeah.”
“Who knows?”
******
They were in his car when he spoke next. “So what do you want to eat?”
She thought for a moment, then shuddered. “Nothing red.”
“No rare meat? You’re finally being sensible.”
“No rare meat, no ketchup, no tomato sauce...”
He winced in sympathy. “I get the picture.”
She sighed. “But what does that leave us?”
“Chinese?”
“Again? Plus you always like those deep fried thingies with the...uh...”
“Red sauce,” he finished. “Let me think. Oh...I know.” He paused, trying to keep the actual words out of his mind.
Of course, that didn't work. She immediately understood. "Oh, Josh." She shook her head.
He didn't want to give up on the dream, though. “It’s crunchy on the outside, Donna. On the inside, it clucks.”
“Do I need to tell you again how completely bad it is for you?”
“But it’s not red,” he pointed out. “And it comes with little tubs of green stuff.”
“Cole slaw.”
“And if I recall correctly, I have seen you licking your fingers.”
Her lips quirked. “Maybe.”
“You like it as much as I do.”
“I do. But it’s so...”
“Live a little, Donna.” He cranked the wheel and headed for the nearest drive thru.
“Why do I get the feeling there’s a big bucket in my future?”
“Because you can read minds.” He concentrated on getting the rare treat bought and paid for before she had second thoughts. And if he could get her to cave on that, maybe he could get her to cave on...he squashed the thought before he could finish it, suddenly concentrating fiercely on driving them home.
“I heard that.”
“Heard what?” he asked innocently.
******
She made him wash his hands before he touched the computer.
Dinner had been good. Knowing that Donna could sense what he was thinking didn’t make him uncomfortable at all, and he pondered that as he soaped the fried chicken grease off his hands.
Then he realized why.
He always told Donna exactly what he was thinking. Okay, maybe not the part where he checked out her ass every time she left a room, but pretty much everything else.
They already understood each other. If he had suddenly been able to read minds too, then they would have spent hours together silently trading thoughts. And he doubted he’d be surprised by anything in her mind. Unless, of course...
“I don’t,” she supplied from the doorway.
He grinned unapologetically as he dried his hands. “Not even once?”
“Well...maybe once. The first time I saw you in jeans.”
“Wasn’t I wearing jeans when you met me?”
“I don’t remember.”
“So what you’re saying is, twice, tops?” he smirked.
She rolled her eyes.
He walked by her out of the bathroom. “It’s okay,” he said loftily. “I won’t make you admit it.”
He heard her clear her throat as she followed him back to the computer. “It’s
actually your shoulders,” she
said quietly.
He stopped suddenly and turned. “What?”
“Your shoulders.” Her gaze raked across them. “And...arms.”
“Really?” He hadn’t pegged her for an old-fashioned girl.
“I’m not.”
“Sorry. It’s just that these days, most women check out, you know, the ass.”
“Not all of us.”
“Apparently.”
“Yes, and since you never take your shirt off at the office...”
“Except when you make me change...hey!”
Now she was grinning, just as unapologetic as he had been.
“You’re a devious woman.”
“That’s why you love me.”
“True.” He sat down at the computer and opened a browser window. Then he got up again.
She was looking at him strangely.
“What?” he asked.
Suddenly she seemed flustered. “Ah...” She gestured. “You sit down, you get up...”
“You know I’m no good with this thing." He gestured at the computer. "Any keyword I enter will bring up porn.”
“Oh.” She seemed to visibly gather her thoughts. “Right.” She sat down and started typing.
He let the moment go and went to find another chair, so that he could sit beside her.
******
“It’s not traditional telepathy.”
He tugged his chair closer to the computer. “You can read minds, though.”
“Yes, but it says here that it would be extremely rare for someone to just get bombarded with the random thoughts of anyone who passes by. Usually it requires effort to hone in on someone’s thoughts.”
He leaned past her, peering at the screen. “It says you’ll go nuts.”
She elbowed him out of the way. “It does not. It just speculates that my type of telepathy would be highly disturbing.”
“Whatever. I still don’t want you going off the deep end. Can’t we get you, I don’t know, a lead hat to wear to block out other people’s thoughts?”
“Lead works on x-rays, not people. And if I wore a lead hat to work, you don’t think everyone would decide I’d gone off the deep end?”
He harrumphed. “Does proximity make a difference?”
“What do you mean?”
He leaned close to her. “Can you hear anyone’s thoughts besides mine right now?”
Closing her eyes, she concentrated for a moment. “No. But you have a pretty big condo.”
“But people could be above or below me.”
“Maybe.” She turned back to the screen.
He let his arm rest on the back of her chair so that he could lean closer and peer at the screen. When he did so, he felt the warmth of her body through their clothes and smelled her familiar scent, and accepted the pleasant sensations as he always did.
She relaxed, leaning back so that her body was just slightly closer to his, his arm touching her shoulder blades.
Nice, he thought absently as he continued to read. “Family members.”
“Where?”
“Here.” He pointed at the screen. “It says telepathy is usually more successful among family members, because they’re tuned to each other.”
“That’s relevant...how?”
“Because you and I...” He gestured. “This thing works really well for you around me. You can read my thoughts even if I’m in the next room.”
“But we’re not related,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, but we spend more time together than...”
“And we’re not lovers.”
“No...what?” His last word was a squeak.
She tapped her finger on the screen. “Apparently lovers are also more in tune with each other.”
That was when his mind went blank. He couldn’t process anything at all, except the sudden realization of how close she was to him.
She continued, uninterrupted. “They hypothesize that it’s because lovemaking is already intuitive, that lovers share an unspoken level of communication while touching each other.”
“Lovemaking...intuitive?” he managed. He hadn’t heard any of the other words she’d said.
She turned sharply to look at him and her nose almost bumped into his. Not helping the situation, he thought, drawing back a little.
A faint smile appeared on her lips. “Intuitive, Josh,” she repeated. “When you just know something is right? When you just, you know...”
“Mmmph...”
Donna Moss was kissing him. She’d just broken off mid-sentence and dove in. For a moment, he couldn’t think of anything else.
Then rationality reasserted itself and he broke away. “Donna, as much as I want to, we can’t mmmph....”
She’d done it again. Kissed him. And she wasn’t letting him get away.
When he finally managed to pull back--somehow they’d ended up in each other’s arms--he said, “Wait.”
She was breathing fairly hard, as was he. “Do you really want to stop?” she gasped.
Hell no! most of the parts of his body chorused, before his mind had a chance to say anything.
“I didn’t think so.” She took a deep breath before throwing herself at him again.
She seemed to know exactly what he wanted--where to move her mouth, what spots to tickle with her tongue. Of course, he thought, she knows as soon as I do. She reads what I’m thinking and she just knows...
She knows....
She knows everything? All of it?
She’d pulled him to his feet and was walking them back towards his bedroom.
She must know everything, or else she wouldn’t be doing that.
He decided that he was just going to assume she knew.
“Know what?” she broke off long enough to ask. She didn’t give him a chance to say anything out loud, though, and since she was keeping his mouth busy, she couldn’t say anything else either.
It didn’t matter. As soon as she’d asked, the words--and the emotions--had jumped to the forefront of his mind.
Now she definitely knew.
Within seconds of their arrival in the bedroom, he realized that her lovemaking was going to be unlike anything he’d ever experienced. She immediately knew everything he wanted, what he liked, where he tingled, what things she did that elicited the greatest response in him.
Consequently, there was no hesitation in her movements, none of the awkward first-time moments that could occur when a new partner didn’t yet know his preferences. Her hands on him were bold, passionate, and curious, always touching some new place as she stripped him of his clothes and pushed him back on the bed.
She was completely focused on him. Usually there was give and take, an exchange of touch for touch, but his tentative attempts to put his hands on her were overwhelmed by the sheer force of what she was doing to him.
She was concentrating so singlemindedly on his mind and body that she hadn’t even taken her clothes off. That was arousing too: knowing that he was lying naked on the bed while a fully-clothed Donnatella Moss swarmed over him with her hands and mouth.
She was confident, but not in an arrogant, I-know-how-to-pleasure-a-man way. Instead, she was assured because she knew how to pleasure him, Josh Lyman; all her caresses, all her kisses, were not techniques taken from an arsenal of sexual experience but rather inspired by and tailored exactly for him.
No one had ever made love to him like this before.
She raised her head enough to mutter briefly, “And no one ever will again.”
Oh yes, he thought. She definitely knew.
Her short speech had allowed him a moment's respite. “Please,” he breathed. “Please, I need to see you.”
She was straddling his stomach and simply sat up. Smiling, she reached for the hem of her top and with one quick movement pulled it off, revealing the soft cotton bra underneath. That too was swiftly stripped away, and his mouth went dry at the sight of her bare to the waist.
She was amazing. Perfect. Just the way he’d always imagined, except so much better.
His hands lifted of their own accord to cover and squeeze the generous handfuls of her breasts, her nipples pressing into his palms.
Arousal shot through him and she moaned.
Of course, he thought. She’s sensing what I feel. If I’m aroused, she knows it.
“And it really turns me on, Josh,” she said in a low voice, sending another shiver straight down to his groin. His cock twitched and hardened further. He was just about ready, he thought.
They groaned together.
“I need to see the rest of you,” he told her.
She appeared to consider for a moment, then climbed off him. He felt the loss of contact keenly and could tell that she did too. Standing beside the bed, she swiftly pushed off her slacks and underwear, so that she was completely naked before him.
Better than perfect, he thought. Better than anything he’d imagined about her.
Slowly, deliberately, so that he didn’t miss a second, she climbed back onto the bed, and then climbed back on top of him. She settled her groin against his and wriggled her hips, caressing his erection with the tight, springy curls on her mound.
He moaned and she leaned down and captured his mouth with hers again, bringing her nude body into full contact with his.
From then on, he thought about pretty much nothing except the feel of her body and the occasional urgent reminder to his cock that he wasn’t planning on coming quite yet.
Her lips traced a path across his jaw, nipping at his ears before heading south to his chest. When she slid downwards to tongue his nipples, her hands found his cock and began stroking and squeezing, giving it specific, playful attention that soon had his hips bucking, and his shaft thrusting up between her fingers. He barely noticed that her mouth was dipping lower, making its way down his torso, until the brief instant before her hands released his cock and she swallowed him whole.
He bucked up into the hot wetness of her mouth involuntarily. He couldn’t help himself. His hand came to rest on the back of her head, keeping her still while he drove his shaft up between her lips, and he could swear she chuckled, because a ripple of vibration enfolded him.
He almost came right then.
She let him fuck her mouth for a few moments longer, then lifted her head long enough to roll them, so that he was sprawled awkwardly on top of her, his cock pressing against her hair. She pushed up on his hips and he lifted them for her so that she could resettle herself under him. Then she tugged his hips downward and raised her head, her lips finding his cock again.
And, once again, he almost came when he realized her intention.
She'd put him in a very dominant position--one that the majority of women he'd been with would not have enjoyed, let alone suggested. Now he had a range of motion not available to him when standing or laying on his back. If he wanted to be selfish, he could make things seriously uncomfortable for her. But she trusted him.
She trusted him, and this was going to be amazing. He shifted a little, angling his hips above her to find the best way in, and then sank down, slowly, into her mouth. She hummed and the vibration coursed through him. He pulled back, then slipped his cock into her mouth again. Her lips sealed themselves around him, providing a tight, tailor-made hole for his girth, and her hands were suddenly squeezing the backs of his thighs, encouraging him.
So he deepened his thrusts into her mouth just a little bit, then a little bit more when she shifted her grip to his ass and pressed him down further. He took his time, fucking her mouth slowly, revelling in the suction she gave to his shaft and the slide of her tongue around it.
He could hear the sounds she made under him...the sound of her breathing deep breaths in through her nose each time he pulled out, of the wet slickness of his cock rubbing to and fro past her lips, of her moans, echoing his own as he realized yet again how much power she’d given him, how much trust she’d placed in him.
He shut his eyes and concentrated on every sensation he could experience. His hips pushed and pulled, circled and thrust, and she took it all.
And then, all of a sudden, it wasn’t enough. He wanted more of her than just her mouth on his cock.
She pushed up and rolled him onto his back, climbing on top of him again, letting her mouth lick and nibble and suck its way back up his torso until it found his lips. He tasted himself in her and deepened the kiss, licking inside her mouth and sucking on her tongue.
His hands found her ass instinctively and tugged downwards, pressing her groin against his hard, wet, very ready shaft. His hips jerked, rubbing his erection against her, and she broke their kiss just long enough to murmur the word, “Condoms.”
She was leaning over him, reaching for the bedside table drawer as soon as he thought about the new box he had there. While she was tearing open the box and presumably one of the packages, he reached for her breasts again.
They were soft and inviting and he really wanted to taste them.
“Later,” she muttered.
He ignored her, sitting up and repositioning her on his lap so that he could dip his head.
Her body went satisfyingly rigid when he pulled a nipple into his mouth and started to suckle. He might not have super telepathic powers, but her physical reaction was just as good as reading her mind. He tugged the nipple between his teeth and stretched it gently until she squeaked, and then he soothed it with gentle licks.
Then he did the same to her other breast. She squirmed the whole time. He got the feeling that if he really spent some time with her breasts, he could get her to lose control completely. That he could make her forget her own name. Maybe he’d tie her up, so she couldn’t distract him, and then just play with her nipples for hours and hours...
She moaned.
He chuckled.
She reached down and squeezed his cock, and suddenly he lost his train of thought.
Pushing him back so that he lay flat on the bed, she slid down his body to roll the condom over his now aching cock. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder. “Look at me,” she said.
He did.
His eyes stayed fixed on hers the whole long, tortuous time she took to put him inside her. Every sensation, every emotion that chased across his face she drank in.
He felt the connection between them strengthen and wondered for a brief second if he was reading her mind the way she was reading his. He could see each twinge of his arousal, each heated thrill, reflected in her eyes.
No, he wasn’t reading her mind, and maybe that was a good thing. Seeing his own reactions in her face, knowing that she knew, was almost too much intimacy.
Briefly, her eyelids drifted closed as she settled herself firmly on him. She rotated her hips, giving him the impression that she was making a home for herself there, on his cock, preparing to stay for a long, long time.
Then her eyes flew open, met his, and she started to move in earnest.
For a moment, he thought he might die.
Her uncanny ability to know what he was thinking made the actual sex head and shoulders better than any he’d had previously. She loved him with her body in just the right way, knowing what tempo to set, knowing the angle he preferred, knowing exactly when he was getting to the edge, challenging him to push further, higher, before he gave in to the release of an orgasm.
She rode slowly and then quickly and hard and then gentle...and then repeated the whole sequence over again. Her eyes never left his, not that he could have looked away, even if he’d wanted to. There was something indefinably compelling about her expression that made him want to meet her challenges, buck his hips up into her, even though she always moved in perfect sync with him.
A brief, coherent doubt formed in his mind. He wondered if, in fucking to please him, she was ignoring her own needs.
Her muscles clenched around him almost as soon as the thought was completed, catching him unawares, and he shouted her name.
She leaned down and briefly grazed his lips with hers. “Pleasing you pleases me,” she murmured, clamping her muscles around his cock again, nearly causing him to lose the last of his control.
He gritted his teeth. “Please.”
She complied, lifting her body and letting it fall over and over, finding the rhythm and revelling in it as she took them higher and higher. But she didn’t make it easy for him, didn’t tighten those amazing inner muscles of hers again.
She urged him on as he moved towards the peak. The tempo she set was punishing, leaving them both panting for breath. He strained, reaching for the pinnacle that seemed just out of his grasp, and she muttered encouragement to him in breathless gasps.
With one last herculean effort, he stretched...reached for it...and then was suddenly buoyed up, carried the last little way past the point of no return, and toppled over the edge.
He’d managed to drag her up with him and she fell, one second behind him. Their cries mingled as he spasmed and felt her passage ripple around him all at the same time.
Everything went dark.
When he came to, seconds or minutes later--he wasn’t sure--the first thing he felt was her hot, damp body weighing down his.
Great, he thought. My girlfriend is a mind reader. This has some serious possibilities.
With a soft chuckle she lifted her head, and her eyes met his. “So, just now...was I using my powers for good or evil?”
He pulled her down and kissed her slowly, making her moan in the back of her throat.
Then he realized that he absolutely had to get rid of the condom.
She pulled away immediately and he made a noise of protest.
Giving him a sweet smile, she helped him disengage their bodies. “The sooner you do, the sooner you come back.”
He kissed her once more for good measure before he headed to the bathroom.
******
Next time, he told himself as he disposed of the condom, he would have to be more attentive to her needs. Sure, it would be fun--even climactic--to experience someone else’s orgasm, but it must still be better to get there by yourself.
He grinned as he washed his hands. Or, not by yourself, precisely, but with a little help from....
A scream pierced the air.
Donna.
He sprinted back to the bedroom, heart pounding. Donna was backed up against the headboard, cringing, her knees drawn up tight against her breasts, staring at...
“Who the fuck are you?” he demanded.
Two figures stood at the end of the bed. Ignoring the fact that he was still naked, he immediately put himself between Donna and the intruders.
The figures were like nothing he’d ever seen. His mind assigned the best description it could...that they were men...old men in long, silver robes...but their heads were hugely swollen and bald, with large, pulsating veins that seemed to throb just under the nearly translucent skin.
Then he suddenly realized that they weren’t human.
He didn’t know what they were.
One of the figures spoke, its voice an almost shrill, quavery, old man’s voice, yet with a powerful, echoing quality that resounded inside his skull. “You would not be able to understand, even if we were to tell you.”
Josh swore again. “You can read my mind too,” he said flatly.
“You are correct,” the second figure said.
Josh glanced back at Donna, who had tugged a sheet up over herself to cover her nakedness.
She shook her head; she didn’t know any more than he did.
His mouth settled in a grim line and he turned back to the strangers. “You aren’t coming near her.”
The second figure looked almost amused. “You cannot stop us.”
Suddenly Josh felt himself hurled backwards against the bed. He landed hard next to Donna, narrowly avoiding the headboard.
He sat back up, blindly determined to launch himself at the figures, but Donna placed her hand on his shoulder. At the same time, Josh saw the first figure raise a hand, stilling its companion’s actions.
“We are sorry,” the first figure said. “We believe that there must have been a mistake. The intended subject of our experiments would have immediately recognized us. You clearly do not.”
Even though logically, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to take them, Josh was still spoiling for a fight. “You made a mistake? Then get out of my house!”
“We will,” said the second figure. “In good time. First, though, we must undo what we have done.”
Before Josh had a chance to demand what that was, both figures closed their eyes and appeared to concentrate. The veins on their huge, grotesque heads began to pulsate faster.
Then Donna gasped beside him.
“Donna?”
“It is complete,” the first figure said.
Josh ignored him. “Donna?” He touched her shoulder.
Her hands fluttered to her face, then came awkwardly back down to her sides. “It’s gone,” she said.
“You can’t hear my thoughts?” he guessed.
She shook her head. “Completely gone,” she repeated.
“Yes,” the first figure agreed. “The gift was given to you in error.” The first figure looked pointedly at the second figure.
“These humans all look the same to me,” the second figure protested in a dignified tone.
“Whatever the reason,” the first figure continued, “we apologize. And now we must leave.”
Josh looked back and forth at the two figures, then again at Donna, who seemed--understandably--a little shaky. “To terrorize someone else?”
“That is not our way,” the second figure said in its echoing, old-man voice. “Our subjects are usually specially selected and have knowledge of us, if not of the experiment itself. However, a mistake was made...”
The first figure finished the sentence. “And it is now too risky to continue in this area. We will find another region and another subject. Goodbye.”
They turned to face one another, concentrating, and Josh watched in fascination as the veins on their heads began to throb again.
“Wait!” Donna cried from beside him.
Both he and the figures turned to her, surprised.
She flushed, but said steadily, “I need to know...about the blood.”
“Blood?” the second figure repeated.
“I saw blood,” she said. “Was it...part of the experiment?”
This time, the second figure looked pointedly at the first figure.
The first figure cleared its throat. “Ah.... We believed that, given the time of your human year, the visions of blood would add verisimilitude to the experience.”
“Verisimilitude?” Donna repeated. “What time of the year are you talking about?”
The first figure glanced at the second figure briefly. “We understood that you humans celebrate a time of blood and death, and the ultimate triumph of good over evil...”
“Election Day?” asked Josh.
The figure frowned. “We believe it was called...Hallowe’en.”
“That was weeks ago!” Donna exploded. “Can’t you people do anything right?”
“Donna,” Josh said warningly. He was familiar with her infrequent but occasionally voluble temper and wasn’t sure that yelling at the weird all-powerful aliens was the safest course of action.
She ignored him. “First you lay the whammy on the wrong person--me!--and then you scare the crap out of me because you assume it’s ‘that time of the year’? For all your power, you haven’t been able to obtain even the most basic information about your subjects! You call that an experiment? I call it careless, irresponsible, illogical, ultimately frivolous, to say nothing of bad...”
“Donna!” Josh said more sharply. She fell quiet, still frowning.
The two figures communicated briefly in that silent way of theirs, eyes meeting, brows furrowing, head-veins pulsing.
Then the first figure turned to Donna. “You are, of course, correct, and again, we apologize. In reparation, we have a proposal for you to consider.”
Donna was wary. “What?”
“Our preliminary scans indicated that while you were not a suitable candidate for our experiment, you were yourself a proficient researcher. If you wish, you may accompany us...”
“No,” Josh interjected flatly.
Both figures ignored him. “...to help prevent further, unfortunate blunders. In addition to comfortable--even luxurious--living quarters and plentiful food, we can offer you a number of benefits: anything your heart desires or even mildly craves.”
She glanced briefly at Josh.
“We will provide you with your male, should you wish it,” the second figure continued placidly. “Or any other human you might wish to take as a mate.”
Donna flushed again. “That wasn’t what I, uh, meant.”
“Your thoughts clearly indicated that you did not want to leave your mate.”
“She’s not going anywhere,” Josh fairly snarled.
“It’s okay, Josh.” She laid a hand on his arm and focused her gaze on the figures. “Thank you for the offer. But he’s more than just my, uh, mate. He is a powerful man on this planet and does a lot of good work...and I help him.”
His insides warmed at her words. “You couldn’t get rid of me that easily anyway,” he said softly.
She turned a blinding smile on him.
The figures bowed slightly. “As you wish,” said the first one.
“We would ask that you not disclose this
incident to anyone...”
As if anyone would believe us, Josh thought sarcastically.
“We would appreciate your discretion nonetheless,” said the second figure.
Josh nodded, and Donna did too.
“Thank you,” said the first figure. “In appreciation, we will give you a final gift.”
Josh tensed. “We don’t want anything from you.”
But the figures were already shimmering. “One minute only,” said the first figure. Then they both vanished.
He stared at the empty space at the foot of the bed for a moment, then turned to Donna. “Are you okay?”
“I think so,” she lied.
“Why are you lying?”
“I’m not!”
“You are! You’re still shaken, and you’re a little embarrassed because you’re naked, and you aren’t sure whether this is a one-time thing with me, and...”
Yes. She looked at him miserably.
What was that? he asked.
I said yes.
You didn’t say anything.
Neither did you.
I didn’t...oh. Josh suddenly began to realize what had happened.
Donna was puzzled. You think this is...
I think this is the gift.
And the one minute only? she asked.
He launched himself at her, capturing her mouth with his, swallowing her shock and desire with the satisfaction of knowing that her response was genuine.
A second later, he knew she knew everything he’d been thinking. He sensed her arousal building and slid his arms around her, toppling them down onto the rumpled sheets, naked body pressed full length against naked body. He knew exactly how she wanted his hands to move, and he used the knowledge to heighten her arousal, just as she had done earlier.
Her unrestrained desire was an aphrodisiac that spread warmth through his body before centering on his groin. Her hands were busy too, in that knowing way of hers, finding every part of him that craved her touch.
And then he was drowning, losing all sense of self as he shared her arousal, which stoked his own body’s sensations, sensations she in turn felt, heightening her own desire even more, which in turn... They were two mirrors facing each other, reflecting desire back and forth into infinity.
She exploded, shuddering in his arms and crying out, and the sensations pushed him over the edge. He tried to hold back for a few seconds, savouring the feel of her orgasm, and then something inside his brain shattered and waves of pleasure crashed through him too. He heard a shout and couldn’t tell if it was him or her or both of them.
Then bliss. Peace, quiet, restful bliss of sated bodies, warm, possessive emotions washing over them. Comfort. Knowing that the barriers had been torn down. They shared one mind now, and they loved together.
Loved.
She loved him. He loved her.
And they weren’t going to give that up for anything. They were together and they were going to love...
The connection faded.
Josh opened his eyes and found Donna’s wide blue eyes looking straight into him. “I was going to say...”
He knew she wasn’t lying when she cut him off. “Me too.”
He kissed her experimentally--a first kiss, in a way, since for once, no supernatural powers were involved--and realized that he was indeed fully himself and only himself once more. It was just as well they’d only been given a minute...if they’d been given five, he wasn’t sure he would have remembered how to function on his own again.
He pulled away from her. “Are you okay?”
She was still trying to process everything, he could tell. “I will be,” she said.
He decided that was good enough for now and kissed her again. Her arms tightened around him, pulling them more firmly together.
Then he felt something sticky, and she must have too. They broke the kiss together. “Ah...” he said.
They pulled apart and looked down. His come was smeared across both their stomachs.
“Oops,” he grinned. “That must have happened when we were....”
She laughed. “I didn’t even notice,” she teased.
“You came and you didn’t even notice your partner wasn’t inside you?”
“You didn’t notice you weren’t--ah--inside me, either,” she pointed out.
“I guess I’m more attracted to your mind.” He chuckled and she was smiling as she smacked him. “As much as I miss that connection,” he admitted, “it’s probably best we only got one minute. Otherwise we’d be sitting at work, in separate offices...”
“Coming and coming and coming again...”
“Without ever touching each other.”
She looked at him through veiled lids. “Damn. Can’t have that.”
He pounced, rolling her onto her back and pinning her thighs open with his. “Damn straight.”
She looked up at him incredulously. “Again?”
His powers of recovery were actually surprising him too, but he kept his smirk in place, not giving anything away. “Only for you, Donna.”
After all, a man had to have some secrets.
He reached for a condom and sat back a moment while he rolled it on. Looking down at her, naked and splayed for him, he decided that life could be very good.
He lowered himself again, one hand cupping her bottom as he slipped back into her snug, wet channel. She shifted under him and together they eased his way deep into her.
Once he was firmly rooted inside her, he grinned. “Now, I know we aren’t mind reading anymore, so you’ll have to tell me whether you notice any of this.”
She laughed.
THE END