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Title: Passing Through: Reflections (1/2) Disclaimers: No characters that you may have seen on your TV screen are mine, Notes: This is the second story in my 'Passing Through' series, yes it will be a
series, and is the sequel to my original story. This particular one has no plot, it's just
a thingy. It's Pre-Administration, meaning that Bartlet is still govenor and we're all
still on the campaign trail. This~~~~~~~~ indicates the beginning and end of flasbacks. So
Thanks to my friend and beta, Abby and to everyone who contributed something to this fic.
Much appreciated. Gently easing the plastic lid off, Donna blew softly accross the liquids surface, her breath only just skimming the coffee and hardly making a ripple. Then raised the cup to her lips and sipped it's contents, scalding the roof of her mouth and living an acidic tasting trail as it fell down her throat. The heat was penetrating through the thin, styrofoam cup and she could feel her hands absorb it, slowing turning pink. In truth, she probably wasn't going to drink it at all, just lean out of the door in a few minutes and place it on the tarmac. It could hardly be described as coffee, it looked like dishwater and tasted like shit, but that was ok because she knew she hadn't bought it to drink in the first place. It was an odd source of comfort for Donna, by cupping it in both hands and closing her eyes she felt safe. This small gesture took her back to all the times she curled up in her father's lap, curling in towards his body and hearing his heart beat as music would play in the background. Her mother would be downstairs, drinking, as usual so her father would scoop her in his arms and take her into his study. He would call her 'Darling Donnatella' and she would call him 'Daddy', he would make her hot chocolate and she would pull one of his sweaters on over her head. Then he would put a record on and they would relax into the sturdy armchair, holding their mugs in both hands and letting the sweet music of Frank Sinatra and Billie Holiday wash over them, before he would kiss her forehead and she would drift off into a gentle sleep. She missed that, they'd done that right up to the day Donna left for college and then times after that. She'd gone back home several times in the last couple of years, turning up on the doorstep bleeding and bruised, much to her fathers shock and dismay. Then he would pull into a deep hug and tell her it would be ok as she cried at her own pain and foolishness. Three days later she would announce she was leaving and the disappointment in his eyes tore her up, Donna never wanted to hurt him, yet he never stood in her way. As much as Andrew Moss hated to see his little girl cry, he allowed her to make her own decisions about her life and she respected him for that. Even when she turned up at home last week, cold, rain-soaked and broken he hadn't turned her away, hadn't told her it was her fault by going back time after time. She'd got her hugs, her kisses and hot chocolate without lecture. She told him her plans to go to New Hampshire and for the first time he said what he had always wanted to, 'Promise me you won't go back to him Donna' and for the first time she did. She was just two days drive from New hampshire, two days from a new start and a life
free of beatings and bruises. Glancing in the mirror, she was pleased to see her most
recent had faded, a little make up and some long sleeved jumpers would hide them until
they were gone for good. Taking another sip of dishwater, she glanced at her reflection in
the mirror on more time. Donnatella Moss closed her eyes and inhaled deeply at the sound of her own name, closing the front door behind her as gently as possible. She could feel the headache forming in her forehead, knowing full well that by the time this conversation was over the dull ache would've spread throughout the rest of her skull. She looked to see her long-term boyfriend round the corner from the kitchen, tall and broad shouldered, with steel eyes and floppy, dark hair which she always wanted to push back from his face. He looked like a movie star and often she wondered if that was what sucked her in when she first met him. "Where have you been?" He really hadn't raised his voice, but it was the way that he said it that sent Donna's blood running cold. He'd hissed and practically spat those four words out at her, she knew that tone of voice, he'd used that one of voice many times. "I'm waiting for an answer Donna, you finished work at six, so I'm a little
curious as to where you've been the last three hours." She was interrupted with a slap across her face, it stung her alabaster skin and made the sharp tears well up in her eyes. She blinked them back furiously, crying would make it worse, Dave hated women who cried. "It took three hours to have a cup of coffee Donna? I don't think so, try
again." This earned her another, harder slap and she felt herself stumble back slightly, grabbing the sofa to hold herself upright. "Don't raise your voice to me! I'm working hard in med school every day for us!
Just so that we can have a decent future together and this is how you repay me? With lies?
So who is he Donna? Who's your bit on the side?" The tears were falling and she was screaming the words now, thinking that maybe saying them louder would convince him more. When his hand made contact with her again, it wasn't a palm against her cheek, it was a clenched fist against her temple and the pain erupted around her head. It initially numbed the point of contact for a few seconds and then made way for a throbbing pain. Grabbing Donna by her collar he dragged her across to the wall before slamming her entire body into it. The pain was racking through every bone and muscle now and salty water flowed freely from her tear ducts. Dave brought his face in close, breathing on her neck and invading her personal space as much as possible. "Who is he Donna?" With her heart and head pounding and breathing uneven, ragged and racked with suppressed sobs, word were getting harder and harder to say and she swallowed hard trying to regain some bodily control. Staring into Daves cold eyes she saw them soften slightly and he eased his grip on her and slowly she slid down the wall towards the floor. Kneeling in front of her, he took her face in her hands and kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry sweetheart, It's just.....I love you so much........I couldn't bear to lose you darling. I'm sorry, I lost my temper. Forgive me?" Donna was silent, searching his eyes as he spoke those words, wondering if they were genuine or just a line in his script. The eyes were still staring at her with intensity and a few errant strands of hair fell in front of them and she resisted pushing them back. "Baby? Sweetheart? Am I forgiven?" Donna could only nod as he pulled her in for a kiss. A car horn sounded in the background and pulled herself out of her daze, eyes still
reflected in the rear-view mirror. She took a deep breath then opened the driver's door,
leaned out and carefully place the still hot coffee on the ground, the night chill
brushing past her fingers and chasing the evaporating steam away. Clicking on her
seat-belt she started the ignition and gave herself a smile in the mirror as she pulled
the car onto the road.
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