Title: Unspoken, Not Forgotten
Author: Michelle K. (CageyGrl@yahoo.com)
Site: http://glimmershine.tripod.com
Archive: Lists. Others ask.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: CJ/Donna
Summary: It all comes down to the things she can't say. (Post-ep for 'California 47th')
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.
Notes: There was a challenge issued for a 'C 47th' post-ep set on a beach, involving a CJ/Donna scene. This is what I came up with.


Unspoken, Not Forgotten by Michelle K.

CJ wasn't having the best day. Granted, most days aren't the *best* -- snafus are always aplenty -- but most days don't feature Toby and Charlie getting arrested.

"Stupid..." She wasn't sure whom she wanted to call stupid: the man causing trouble, the man's friend for mistaking a drunken stumble for getting hit, Toby and Charlie for being provoked, or the cops for arresting her friends. "...people," she sighed.

"It could've been worse," Donna said.

CJ stared at her. "How?"

Donna shrugged. "Uh...the President could've been arrested." CJ continued to stare. "What? That would've been worse." Donna didn't want to mention her idiotic behavior of the day; she was just thankful that CJ had yet to reference it. Toby and Charlie's arrests were overshadowing her stupidity, thank God. She shifted in her seat, still noticing CJ's eyes on her. "It *would've*," she insisted.

CJ sighed. "Yeah, I suppose." She shook her head. "I think I'm going to take a walk."

"Really?" Donna said, trying to hide her disappointment. She didn't want to be without CJ now; in honesty, she never wanted to be without her -- it just seemed to always end up that way. "Um...can I come?"

"Sure," CJ said.


CJ walked with Donna on the streets of Orange County, feeling a gentle breeze hit her skin. It's nice here at night, she thought idly to herself. Nice to be with Donna, but that was a lot more complicated than California's lack of a noticeable winter.

"You think Sam's gonna lose?" Donna asked.

"Probably," CJ answered. "He might not lose big, though. Well, not *too* big."

"That's good." Donna paused. "In a way."

"Yeah." CJ smiled, and Donna had a desire to kiss her, to tell her that all she thought about -- even when she was in bed with someone -- was CJ.

But, really, they never talked too deeply about their semi-relationship -- there was no reason to start now.

"It is beautiful out here," CJ said. "DC doesn't have beaches like this," she continued, glancing out to the water gently crashing on the sand.

"Hey," Donna said, "let's walk on the beach."

CJ blinked. "What if it's private? We could be arrested for trespassing. And four staffers getting arrested -- well, that's twice as bad as two."

"It's not private. If it were, there would be a sign or something."

"Donna," CJ began, but Donna had already kicked off her shoes and started towards the sand. Donna could do things without thinking, and CJ was tempted not to follow. But Donna also looked nice in the moonlight and, sometimes, her impulsiveness could work out perfectly fine. "Wait," she said, taking off her own shoes.

Donna stopped and turned around, pleased to see CJ moving towards her, heels in hand. "Change your mind?"

"I couldn't leave you alone on the beaches of Orange County. You could be..." CJ trailed off, shrugged. "Something could happen."

Donna smiled, and she thought: I'm glad you're here.


They walked for awhile, eventually deciding to sit in the sand. Again, it was something CJ didn't feel particularly good about doing, but she did force Donna into promising to pay any dry-cleaning bills she might incur.

"I don't think sand is going to stain your pants anyway, CJ," Donna insisted.

"You don't know that," she replied, letting her toes sink into the sand.

"And I'm willing to pay the price if I'm wrong which, I think, says a lot about my character."

A moment of silence passed, a moment where CJ could imagine every curve of Donna's body. But that was supposed to be over -- it had been unofficially over more times than she could count, but lately the rumor mill had been implying that she and Josh were a couple, and CJ wasn't about to betray a friend.

No, she definitely couldn't do that.

"So," CJ started, a smile curling her lips. "Communists, huh?"

"Can't anyone give that a rest?" Donna retorted with mock anger that wasn't really that false. "Meet with one Communist and suddenly people think you're a Marx enthusiast. Which I'm not, by the way."

"So you say. Good thing this isn't the 50s, or you'd be blacklisted for sure."

Donna's face suddenly went dark. "I am a real moron, aren't I?" she sighed.

CJ blinked. "You realize I don't agree with Joseph McCarthy, right?"

Donna's smile returned briefly. "You don't seem like the witch-hunt type," she admitted. "I just mean...I feel so stupid sometimes."

CJ shook her head. "You're not stupid Donna. You wouldn't be here if you were."

"Yeah, well, I'd like to think that, but you can't deny the fact that I've screwed up more than a few times."

"That's true of *everyone.* Jesus, Donna, I almost resigned--"

"And I'm glad you didn't," Donna interjected. "And, anyway, you were under pressure." Donna suddenly remembered the first time they kissed. It was around that time, in Manchester, when CJ was hanging by a thread and Donna wanted to pull her back.

CJ waved her hand nonchalantly, apparently not haunted by the same memories Donna was. "That's not the point. The point is, you shouldn't feel so bad about it."

"I do anyway," she countered.

Their eyes locked, and CJ was surprised by the intensity of Donna's gaze. There was want, *need* in there that she couldn't quite identify. Did she want comfort? Love? Sex? All of the above? Whatever it was, CJ thought she should try to give it to her.

"Donna, you're not stupid. Or a screw-up," CJ asserted as she reached out to her. She brushed her fingers against Donna's cheek, pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. They were straddling a fence between friends and kinda-sorta lovers. They'd been doing that on and off for weeks, really; it was just more pronounced while they were alone with nothing but grains of sand between them.

"CJ?" Donna said, opaquely questioning CJ's intentions. CJ gave no verbal response, so Donna decided to give an answer of her own. Taking CJ's hand in hers, she interlaced their fingers before bringing her palm to her lips. "I've missed you," she confessed before kissing the flesh a second time.

"Me too," CJ responded, mentally taking stock of all the nights they spent together. Usually drunk, usually after something bad happened, but it still always meant something.

She's not even sure why it ended -- it just stopped somewhere in-between all the complications.

She was now suspecting that it's beginning again.

"Really?" Donna said. Her smile returned, more lasting and genuine than before.

Donna leaned towards her, their breath intermingling. They were so close, but not touching. Until CJ felt something tangible: Donna's lips brushing against hers.

"What about you and Josh?" she breathed.

"There is no me and Josh," Donna replied, wondering if there ever was a she and CJ, if there ever could be. "We shouldn't do this here, should we?" she whispered, so close to kissing CJ without actually doing it.

"No," CJ replied, but she still didn't resist when Donna kissed her; she even initiated its deepening. She wrapped her arms around the other woman, slid a hand to the back of her head, guided her mouth to her neck. She felt Donna's tongue on her skin, soft but insistent. A chill ran up her spine despite the warmth of the night air and she sighed: "Donna."

Donna placed a trail of kisses from CJ's neck to her chin, then back to her lips. She wanted to undress her, make love to her in a way that made her never want to disavow it in the morning. But that was impractical, at least while they were still here -- and Donna didn't want to leave. Straddling one of CJ's legs, she cupped either side of her face and kissed her hard. She let her hands slip to CJ's breasts, lightly squeezing them through the fabric.

CJ pushed her leg upwards, causing Donna to groan and grind back against her. She was too sensible for this, too sensible to let this happen out in the open. Even when she wasn't in the public eye, she didn't experiment with exhibition; there was no reason to start now. But, then again, maybe it's not exhibition if no one's around to see. And, as far as she could tell, there were no spectators -- she let that be a good enough reason not to stop Donna when her hands slid down even further.

Donna considered asking if she wanted to stop but she pushed ahead, undoing CJ's pants. She slid her hands up the back of CJ's shirt, then slowly down to her backside. She drew patterns against CJ's skin, designs they both knew well.

She kept one hand on CJ's back as she slipped the other down the front. She felt silk on the back of her hand, warm wetness on the tips of her fingers. She wanted to say: I love you, but instead muttered, "You feel so good."

CJ cleared her throat as if she was going to speak, but nothing came out. She arched her hips, encouraging Donna's hand to move further. She hissed when Donna found her clit, groaned when the pressure of her fingers increased. Then, tiny, quick circles that felt so good. When she came, she muttered, "That was amazing."

Their lips crushed together as Donna's hands gripped CJ's sides. Donna pushed down on CJ's thigh; CJ pushed up in response. They remained still as CJ's fingers moved to the buttons of her blouse. Donna sighed at the feel of CJ's fingers pushing fabric to the side, brushing softly over her breast. Then, it was her mouth that was brushing over that same area; Donna bit her lip to keep in the sound.

They began to rock together, coupling the pressure against her chest with the pressure against her sex. When she came, she had nothing to say; all she did was hold CJ as close to her as she could. She listened to the sound of the waves, to her own labored breathing.

CJ pulled away from Donna's embrace. She didn't know whether to feel sated or embarrassed; she was leaning towards the latter. "Donna..." She didn't know how to complete the thought; Donna's impassive face was giving her no clue.

Donna leaned away from her. She wanted to say: This hasn't changed anything, has it?, but she stayed silent. She rubbed her sand-covered toes together, wondered if she could add this to the tally of nights they'd spent together. After all, this had only lasted minutes. "I guess we should get out of here." She pulled away completely, hands moving to straighten her askew clothing.

CJ didn't know what to make of Donna's new swing of emotion; instead of letting it lie, she said, "What's wrong?"

Donna shook her head. "I can't keep doing this casual thing with you, CJ."

CJ buttoned her pants, tucked in her shirt as neatly as she could. "What are you saying?"

She thought about what she wanted to say; she actually said it this time. "I want to mean something to you."

"You do mean something to me, Donna. You're the one who always pulls away," she said, noting the considerable distance she'd already put between them.

Donna hugged her knees. She wanted to say: If I do, it's only because I'm scared that you're going to reject me entirely, and I won't even have these tiny moments. But she said, "I'm sorry. Forget I said anything." She paused, added, "We should probably get back."

CJ stood soon after she did and grabbed Donna's arm. "What do you want?" She was waiting for something that would open the floodgates between them, stop them from going back to being friends who occasionally had sex. "What do you want?"

Donna wanted to say: For you to love me, but she settled on, "You." She tugged on CJ's lip when they kissed. When it ended, she felt like something had changed; that may have all been in her head, but it was better than having nothing to imagine.

And when she and CJ walked back to their hotel, Donna wanted to say: This could be the beginning of something great instead of another little ending, but she said, "It really is a beautiful night."

CJ nodded, smiled, said "Yeah."


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