Title: Letting Go.
Fandom: Commander in Chief, Joan/Becca (unreq.)
Notes: Aw, my sekrit CiC otp ♥ Prompt from
contrelamontre: 'letting go', 24 minutes. Rough/unedited, etc.
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She stays angry for the first week. It helps her cope.
She tells herself it's anger at Becca for talking her into something she should never have asked for in the first place, but knows it's mostly at herself for giving in when she knew better.
She liked Becca too much, wanted to be her friend as much as her protector and accepts, deep down, that it could never have ended well. Don't care too much is one of the rules of the game; you get too close you lose objectivity.
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The anger fades and by the second week she's just sad, in mourning for the job she'd worked so hard for and the girl she misses constantly. It hurts to imagine what Becca must be feeling but Joan thinks she can probably guess. Becca might have missed her for a few days but then she'll have moved on, grown used to her new agent and forgotten Joan ever existed.
Joan tells herself it's time she did the same, time to find a new assignment and get on with reconstructing her life.
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To her surprise Becca does call, but she can't bring herself to answer the phone. Lets it go through to voicemail instead and then deletes the message unheard. Calls the phone company the next day and has her number disconnected.
She doesn't want to hurt Becca but her feelings for her former charge have never truly been appropriate and she won't risk placing herself in a situation where things could get so much worse than they are now. Instead she settles for following the news, watches for glimpses of the first family and freeze-frames the picture when Becca's face is on the screen.
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It's not her fault she feels the way she does. She'd never have acted on it but something about Becca just attracts her. She knows that Becca can never know and she's done everything she can to sever the ties between them, to let her go so that her feelings can never cause her concern.
It's for the best, Joan knows, because Becca is only sixteen and she isn't Joan. Becca, like most girls, has boys on her mind.
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With time she hopes these feelings will fade, that she'll stop thinking she's seeing Becca wherever she goes; that her hands will stop shaking whenever she sees the press getting too close, putting that look of fear in Becca's eyes that always made her heart ache in sympathy.
She can't be there anymore, not the way she wants to be. She can only watch and sometimes, when she feels particularly weak, she can close her eyes, remember a different time, and dream of the things that might have been.