Author: Artemis Archer
Pairing: Bonnie/Mrs. Landingham
Rating: R for language and sexual references
Archive: WingSwing and www.artemis-archer.com
Disclaimer: "The West Wing" and all the characters are
owned by Aaron Sorkin. This is strictly for fun and no
copyright infringement for profit is intended.
Note: Written in response to a WingSwing challenge;
thanks to my beta Suki for her insightful comments and
for being open-minded about the pairing!
Summary: There was nothing Bonnie loved more than a
challenge, especially when it involved women and sex.
She had never met a woman she couldn't bed, once she
set her mind to it. And now she had her mind set on
bedding Mrs. Landingham.
It was Ginger who had first noticed Mrs. Landingham in a street interview on Real Sex 19. All the other assistants thought she must be seeing things, but when it was rerun later in the week on HBO, Bonnie and Margaret watched it, too, and Ginger got it on tape so they could pass it around the office. There was no doubt about it. It was her.
The interview followed a segment on “Sex After Seventy.” There were a couple of elderly couples interviewed, along with the typical self-assured young swingers, all proclaiming that, of course, they’d be sex maniacs in the geriactic ward. And then there was Mrs. Landingham, standing on a New York City sidewalk with another woman. Everyone assumed it was a friend or her daughter, maybe even her granddaughter. But Bonnie was certain it was her lover. There was something in the way Mrs. Landingham looked at her. She’d seen that predatory look between lovers before. Bonnie had used that look on other women herself. Many times, in fact.
“Why, yes, I’m a very sexual person,” Mrs. Landingham had said into the camera. The woman with her had laughed and said, “She is!” while clutching her arm. Bonnie replayed the scene in her mind again and again. Mrs. Landingham?! she asked herself. But there she was, in living color, on the TV screen and now in Bonnie’s memory.
After a couple of weeks, the excitement and whispering died down, and the staff moved on to other things. Cathy’s new job and going-away party. The real story behind Mandy’s departure. The continuing saga of Nancy’s ineptitude and how she’d never have gotten her job if her father hadn’t known people in high places. Typical office stuff.
But Bonnie didn’t forget. She began to look for Mrs. Landingham whenever she went to women’s events or lesbian bars. She looked for her at potlucks and Lesbian Avengers meetings. She read the personal ads in the Washington Blade with new-found interest, always looking for an ad such as SWF, 70s, nonsmoking, social drinker, seeks same for movies, plays, long walks, quiet times by the fire, and friendship, maybe more? All the while, of course, Mrs. Landingham was working right down the corridor, just outside the Oval Office. But now Bonnie was hoping to catch her in a different context. A context Bonnie knew so well herself, even better than she knew the White House.
She also watched her more closely around the West Wing, looking for some kind of sign. Significant eye contact, perhaps, or the faint smell of pussy fingers. Some sort of innuendo. Bonnie knew that it was often hard to connect with older dykes because they had, of necessity, become so skilled at being closeted. But Mrs. L had been on Real Sex, for God’s sake! How closeted could she be?
In a few weeks Bonnie’s interest in and curiosity about Mrs. Landinham’s sex life had become an obsession. The harder it got to figure things out, the more determined she became. Most of it was the thrill of the hunt that would lead to the inevitable conquest. There was nothing Bonnie loved more than a challenge, especially when it involved women and sex. She had never met a woman she couldn’t bed, once she set her mind to it. And now she had her mind set on bedding Mrs. Landingham.
A year ago she would have said that CJ Cregg would have been the ultimate West Wing conquest. But CJ had been easy. The hardest thing had been to get her alone and drunk. And, frankly, it hadn’t really been worth the trouble. CJ just wasn’t that great in bed. Or maybe it was just the alchohol that had made her rough and clumsy. Mandy Hampton had actually been a much more challenging conquest and well worth the effort, in Bonnie’s opinion. And for pure sexual gratification, Ginger and Margaret were the best, and having the two of them together had been a special treat. She still relished the memory of Margaret’s tongue in her mouth and Ginger’s tongue on her clit. Since that night Bonnie had almost given in to their pleas for her to join them again. But Bonnie had refused. She had her principles. She made it a policy never to sleep with co-workers twice.
And then one day it happened. Bonnie spotted Mrs. Landingham in a definite lesbian context. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon in April and Bonnie had popped into Lambda Rising book store to pick up a copy of On Our Backs. There was Mrs. Landingham, browsing through the lesbian erotica section, located conveniently near the front of the store. Bonnie stopped in her tracks. She couldn’t believe her luck! She walked slowly over to her and stood quietly behind her for a few moments.
“Looking for something special?” Bonnie asked in a deep sexy voice.
“Oh, hello, dear,” said Mrs. Landingham when she turned around and saw Bonnie standing there. She didn’t seem at all flustered or embarrassed. It was as if they had run into each other in a corridor in the West Wing. “No, not something, dear. Someone.”
Bonnie gulped. She was making this all too easy. “Really,” said Bonnie. “Well, I think you’ve found her.”
Mrs. Landingham leveled her with a long, hard look and then smiled gently. “Oh, not you, dear,” she said, touching Bonnie’s hand and sending a pleasant volt through her. “My granddaughter. She works here.” She gestured over toward the cash register. “I’m meeting her for lunch.”
Bonnie glanced toward the cashier and saw that it was her favorite one, a fine brown-skinned honey with whom Bonnie often flirted when she bought her porn. “She’s your granddaughter?” Bonnie asked incredulously. “She’s Black!”
“I prefer the term African-American,” said Mrs. Landingham in her typical teacher-voice. “And technically, she’s biracial. My son, Simon, was married to an African-American woman. Deborah is their daughter and my only grandchild.”
“Oh,” said Bonnie in a small voice. She felt flustered and a little bit embarrassed as she saw her chances with Mrs. Landingham slipping away. How could she hit on someone’s grandmother? Still, there had been that electric charge in her touch.
“Would you like to join us for lunch, dear?” asked Mrs. Landingham brightly. “We’re just popping down the street to the cafe behind Kramer Books. You’d be welcome to come along.”
“Well, uh...” Bonnie stammered. Before she could get the words out of her mouth to decline the invitation, Mrs. Landingham’s granddaughter was coming up to them, kissing her grandmother on the cheek.
“Ready to go?” she asked.
“I’m ready,” said Mrs. Landingham. “Deborah, this is Bonnie. We work together and I’ve invited her to join us for lunch. I knew you wouldn’t mind.”
“Really, I can’t,” said Bonnie. This was getting too weird. She certainly didn’t need a granddaughter and a civil luncheon in a gay-boy cafe to complicate her plans to bed Mrs. L.
“Oh, come on, it’ll be fun,” said Deborah, placing her hand on Bonnie’s shoulder. “I’ve hardly met any of the people Grandma works with. But I hear about them all the time.”
Really, thought Bonnie. What have you heard? “Well, okay,” said Bonnie. “If you’re sure I’m not intruding.”
“Not at all,” said Deborah and Mrs. Landingham in unison with the exact same intonation.
Weird, thought Bonnie. Very weird.
***
At lunch Bonnie sat across the table from both of them and she was continually amazed at how similar they were, even though they looked nothing alike on the surface, they had the same mannerisms and expressions, and often sounded exactly alike. They chit-chatted about lots of things: food, their neighborhoods (it turned out Deborah lived just three blocks away from Bonnie), Gay Pride. It had all the hallmarks of a first date. But which one am I dating? Bonnie wondered. Whether I’m dating someone who brought along her granddaughter or someone who brought along her grandmother, either way, it’s weird. Deborah was hot, no question, and most of the women in Dupont Circle lusted after her. But Bonnie just couldn’t get Mrs. Landingham out of her head. Especially since she had touched her in the book store. Just the thought of her touch sent a little chill down Bonnie’s spine. No, it’s definitely Mrs. Landingham I’m going for, Bonnie reminded herself.
When Deborah excused herself to go to the women’s room, Bonnie saw her chance to make a move. But before she could do anything, Mrs. Landingham leaned in toward her and touched her hand again.
“She’s single, Bonnie,” Mrs. Langingham told her. “She’s just coming off a seven-year relationship but I think she’s officially out of the rebound zone. Why don’t you ask her out?”
“Me?” asked Bonnie. Here she was, trying to make a move on someone who was trying to hook her up with her granddaughter! “Mrs. Landingham...”
“Is it the age thing that bothers you, dear? I know Deborah is several years older than you but age shouldn’t be a factor.”
“It’s not!” said Bonnie, laughing. “I can assure you. Age doesn’t matter to me at all!” She looked directly into Mrs. Landingham’s eyes, hoping the meaning of her words would sink in. “It’s just... I’m not really into, you know, the relationship thing. I like to play the field.”
“I see,” said Mrs. Landingham, staring into her coffee cup. After a silent moment, she looked up into Bonnie’s eyes with the familiar predatory look she’d displayed on television. “So you’re just in it for the sex, then? You like to love ‘em and leave ‘em?”
Bonnie felt her face growing hot. She was used to being the one in charge in such situations and knew she needed to regain control. “Who said anything about love?”
“I see,” said Mrs. Landingham again as her granddaughter returned to their table.
“Well, it’s been fun, ladies, but I’ve got to get back to work,” said Deborah. “Bonnie, it’s been a pleasure meeting you.” She reached over and shook Bonnie’s hand. There was absolutely no electricity there.
“You run along, Deborah,” said Mrs. Landingham. “I’m just going to stay to finish my coffee. I’m sure Bonnie will keep me company.” Bonnie nodded in agreement.
“Well, okay,” said Deborah, kissing her grandmother on the forehead. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She said it in the joking, cliched way most people did, having absolutely no clue as to the double-edged meaning of her words.
“I’ll try to restrain myself,” said Mrs. Landingham in the same joking tone. After Deborah was out of sight, Mrs. Landingham turned again to Bonnie and said, “I'd like you to take me home now, Bonnie, but rest assured I have absolutely no intention of obeying my granddaughter. She's a sweet girl but rather timid, I'm afraid. I'm sure she wouldn't dream of a one-night stand. Do we understand each other?” Bonnie nodded, and as she reached for the check, Mrs. Landingham placed her hand on top of hers. “My treat.”
She watched as Mrs. Landingham whipped our her wallet and pulled out money to pay for the bill. The top of her hand still pulsed from where she had touched her. Her mind wandered back to the image of Mrs Landingham, flickering on her tv screen, saying, "I'm a very sexual person." She felt another little chill run through her with the knowledge of what surely lay ahead.