|Let's Go Meet the President, Shall We?
Author: Marivan PM
Natalie and David embark on a trip to meet the President with equal parts trepidation and charm. R&R?Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Romance - Words: 517 - Reviews: 6 - Favs: 16 - Follows: 3 - Published: 03-22-10 - Status: Complete - id: 5836179
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
"So," he said, glancing at her as the jet began its descent, "Let's go meet the President, shall we?"
Despite the g-forces weighing uncomfortably against her abdomen, Natalie smiled shyly. "Yes. Let's."
His hand snaked out and clasped her's supportively. A small reassuring squeeze and their eyes met.
Oh Gods! How he wanted to kiss her there and then. But there was the tiny matter of his staff and members of the press surrounding them. Then again, he thought, that was not necessarily an inconvenience. After all, their first kiss had been witnessed an audience of 200 or so. And she didn't like him any less for it.
Moist lips were suddenly pressed against his own. Something stirred within him and he wanted to prolong this moment and ravish his wonderful Natalie's mouth.
But a thought struck him suddenly and he pulled away slightly. "Although I find it adorable," he began slowly, and quietly, "The President, and, gods, the American people probably won't find post-smooch disheveled a particularly becoming..."
Natalie looked at him with large eyes and then slowly pulled away. "No," she said, "I suppose your right." She pulled her hands into her laps and looked at them intently for a moment. "But David," she continued so very softly, "I- I just-" she turned back to look at him, "I don't know."
He once again took her hand in his. "Nervous, maybe?" he said.
She glanced away and nodded slowly.
"Natalie," he said, reaching for her chin, and turning her face to let their eyes connect, "you are now so profoundly mine that if... if he tries any... funny business... it might just provoke me to send in the bombers. Start World War III."
Her palm collided playfully with the side of his head. "Have some sense, David!"
"Oh, but you're so worth it."
Natalie looked at him archly. "Please, David. I am no Helen of Troy."
"Well, I must agree with you there," he replied. "You're name's not Helen. You're not from Troy. And the whole demigod, mother assaulted by Zeus as a Swan thing is a bit of a problem."
Natalie rolled her eyes and squeezed his hand affectionately.
Annie, sitting several rows ahead, watched the whole exchange fondly. The pair of them had utterly charmed one nation. Americans were a bit odd and... unpredictable, but she wondered idly if the states would fall under their spell as well. They were just so... well, irresistibly themselves.
Moments later, the jet bounced down on the runway, jostling everyone aboard. Annie immediately stood and made her way back to the Prime Minister and his wife. "We ready to meet the President?" she asked.
"Yes," he replied squeezing Natalie's hand once more, but not letting go, "Yes, I believe we are."