Right Now
2/16/07

Author: Christine (ck_hoch@yahoo.com)

Summary: She loves waking up with him.

Author's Note: A post-series piece that explores one of many possible mronings

Disclaimers: None of the characters on which this fic is based belong
to me. They belong to Aaron Sorkin, NBC, Warner Bros. and many others.
I am only borrowing from them and make no profit. Please send any
feedback or comments to Christine

Right Now

She loved waking up with him.

On weekend mornings like this, when they didn't have to rush to their
jobs, she loved waking up to find him looking at her with such warm
affection in his sleepy brown eyes.

She'd blink her eyes open slowly, and he'd be lying with his head
propped up on a bent arm, gazing thoughtfully at her with a soft
half-smile on his face.

She'd smile in response and he'd reach a hand out to smooth her hair
from her face, whispering a hoarse good morning as he did so. She'd
catch his hand in hers and press a light kiss to his palm before
murmuring her own good morning.

He'd grin and remind her that it was Saturday, a half-day at work,
that it was still early, and there were still several hours before
they had to be at the White House. She'd feign innocence and ask what
on earth they could possibly do with all their free time. He'd chuckle
and say he could think of a few things.

She'd laugh and agree that she had a few ideas of her own and he'd
smirk at her for a moment before lightly kissing her nose and asking
what those ideas were. She'd tease him about a plan for painting the
office or re-grouting the bathroom tile, while she ran her hand from
his shoulder to his bicep to the curve of his elbow.

He'd dip his fingers into the curve of her waist, tickling her, and
tell her that his plan was better than hers. When she asked what his
plan was, he'd just shake his head and smile enigmatically.

More sleep, catching up on the papers, breakfast in bed? She'd make
random guesses and he'd just continue to shake his head and refuse to
tell her.

She'd frown in mock irritation and he'd kiss her nose again, finally
giving in and admitting that his plan consisted of nothing more than
staying right where they were. She'd smile and nod, telling him that
his plan was an excellent one, then reach a hand up to his neck and
draw him down to her for more kisses.

They would be light at first, playful, a mere brushing of their lips.
Eventually, though, one of them would grow impatient, and the kisses
would grow deeper and bolder. He'd pull her closer and their bodies
would mold against each other, all soft curves and hard planes.

His hands would sweep down her back and over her hips; her fingers
would trail a path across his shoulders and down his chest. He'd suck
on the skin of her shoulder and tell her she was beautiful; she'd
nuzzle his neck and murmur softly that she loved the way he smelled.
Their lovemaking would be sweet and fierce and passionate, leaving
both of them breathless.

They would lie tangled together afterward, tired but satisfied,
content with just being together.

After some time, she'd mention that maybe they should think about
getting up and taking a shower, and she'd slide from beneath the
sheets, intent on putting words into action. He'd snag an arm around
her waist and pull her back against him, trapping her in the bed.
She'd laugh and say they'd have to get up eventually. He'd mutter that
he wished she wasn't such a kill-joy all the time and, to appease him,
she'd suggest that maybe they could take their showers together.

He'd grunt and mutter something about not being that young anymore.
Rolling over, with a twinkle in her eyes and a grin she could barely
suppress, she'd agree that, yes, he was ancient. He'd roll his eyes at
her and say that she wasn't supposed to agree with him, she was
supposed to tell him that he was young and virile and still in his
prime.

A laugh would escape her lips and she'd press a quick kiss to his
mouth, telling him he was the perfect age for her. He'd arch an
eyebrow in silent question and she'd laugh again, repeating herself,
saying that if things were any different, they wouldn't really be
them. He'd stare at her for a beat, then chuckle and mock her for her
bizarre logic.

She'd remind him that her bizarre logic, as he so quaintly put it, was
one of the many things he loved about her. He'd agree and the smile
she'd give him would be wide and radiant.

He'd dip his head and kiss her again and it would be another hour or
more until they finally got up.

But right now, none of that had happened. Right now, she was just
beginning to lazily open her eyes. Right now, he was just reaching out
a hand to stroke her cheek. Right now, there were infinite
possibilities for the morning stretching out before them.

Right now, she was simply thinking about how much she loved waking up with him.

~ End ~