#but this fic probably takes place like 2015 or 2016ish

[sesamestreep]

Don/Sloan for 13, "nudging the other one"

Don wakes to the sensation of an elbow jabbing into his ribs, and startles upright in his seat, panicked. When he fully takes in his surroundings, though, he sees a flight attendant a few rows away serving a drink, and a few passengers milling around, but nothing actually seems to be amiss.

"Sloan?" He asks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she says from her spot next to him, but she looks sheepish.

"You just elbowed me hard enough to bruise, so something must have happened."

"It was a gentle nudge at best," Sloan says with an eye roll. "Don't be dramatic."

"And did you have a reason for ‘nudging’ me?" He asks, with a pointed use of air quotes. "Or did you just miss me in the fifteen minutes I was sleeping?"

"Definitely the latter," she replies sweetly. When Don gives her an unimpressed look, she sighs and asks, "Remember when I said it was fine if you slept on the plane?"

"Uh-huh..."

"Even though I can never sleep on planes?"

"Yeah..."

"And you asked if I was really sure it wouldn't bother me? And I said yes?"

"It's bothering you now, isn't it?" Don asks.

Sloan has the decency to look apologetic. "I didn't think it would," she says, chewing her bottom lip in dismay. "But as soon as you fell asleep, I started to resent you for it."

Don's breath catches on a laugh, and he reaches over to grab her hand and twine their fingers together. "Okay," he says. "No sleep 'til Santorini, then."

"You're sure you don't mind?" Sloan asks, still looking nervous. They haven't traveled together a lot in their relationship, other than a few quick weekend trips when their schedules mercifully aligned, so they're both still nervous about the etiquette of it all. The stakes of this trip are also obviously higher, so Don understands her hesitance.

"It's fine," he replies. "I promise. But if you ever elbow me that hard again, it better be because we're going down, Oceanic Flight 815-style, okay?"

"First of all, there's no way it hurt that bad," she retorts. "And more importantly, you and I would kick ass on that fucked up island."

"Oh, yeah? Whose stock portfolio are you going to manage there, Shawshank?"

Sloan shakes her head, like she can't believe how stupid he is. "You and I would be down in that hatch, typing in those numbers, keeping everyone alive, Don." 

"I would die immediately and you know it. I fare very badly in direct sunlight."

"Hey, give yourself some credit! You're way more outdoorsy than Elliot."

"Oh, good," he says, sarcastically. "The whole newsroom is involved in this plane crash now."

"Obviously."

Don shrugs. He probably shouldn't speculate about how his co-workers and friends would fare in a plane crash on a mysterious island--while flying, no less-- but since Sloan won't let him sleep, this seems as good a way to pass the time as any. "I just feel like it'd be Neal in the hatch, you know?" he says, after giving it some thought. "He gives me Desmond vibes."

"He's always felt more like a Hurley type to me," Sloan says. "Still, he'd survive because he's a fan favorite."

"And he's been on the run before. He's tough now. Grizzled, even."

Sloan smiles, probably at the idea of anyone describing Neal Sampat as grizzled. He carried a spider out of the newsroom in a Dixie cup last week. "For sure,’ she says. “And Mac would obviously run everything. Just the whole damn island."

"Is she Jack or Kate in this situation?"

"She's both. "

"So who is Will? "

"He's obviously Locke. Come on, Don!"

"So in your version, Jack and Kate are the same person and they're married to Locke?” he asks, and she just nods like this somehow makes perfect sense. “Okay, fine. I can accept that. The more important question is: who are we in this scenario?"

"I think you're being too literal about this," Sloan says, pityingly. "But obviously we are the best couple on the island: Sun and Jin."

"Oh, of course," Don says, immediately mollified. "As long as we're not the jewel thieves who get buried alive, I'm happy."

Sloan scoffs. "You and I would be much better criminals than them."

"We did kind of pull off a Bonnie and Clyde act today, didn't we?"

To his surprise, Sloan's expression darkens at that. "I don't know if I'd go that far," she says.

He runs his thumb over her knuckles. "Don't tell me you're having second thoughts already," he says, quietly.

"Not about that," Sloan replies. "I don't have any regrets, I promise. I'm just worried that Mac will never forgive us."

"Hey, she got married at city hall too!"

"Yeah, but that wasn’t exactly by choice," Sloan says. "And she and Will did eventually have that huge reception, remember?"

Oh, Don remembers. In fact, he breaks out in a sweat just thinking about it. Mac and Will's wedding reception had been a lot of fun when they finally got around to it, after the jail stint and mourning Charlie properly and having a baby and all that, but planning it had nearly killed them, and by extension Sloan, who helped out with everything by virtue of being Mac's de facto maid of honor. Mac's cabal of idiot sisters and cousins would have fought her for the privilege, but none of them lived close enough to be of any real use when it came to the required event planning duties. By the end, Sloan would have gladly handed over the reins to any of them, because it turns out planning a wedding, especially a celebrity wedding for a new mother, is a handful.

"But I thought we agreed that's not what we wanted," he says, choosing his words and his tone carefully.

"It wasn't--it isn't!"

"Still,” Don says. “We haven't told anyone that we got married yet, so we could still do a big wedding if that's what you want. We just don't need to worry about the legal part, I guess."

"Don," Sloan says, sternly, as she clutches his hand even tighter. "I was the one who said that spending all that time and money on a wedding would be a waste. If I wanted that, I would have said so, because I trust you and I know you would have gone along with it to make me happy. But what I really wanted was to marry you, and I got that, so I'm happy. I promise."

He still remembers her coming home from a day of wedding planning with Mac and flopping onto his couch with an exasperated sigh. She'd recounted every annoying tiny decision they'd had to make that day, and how half of them had caused a fight between Mac and her mother, which always ended in tears for someone. Sloan had finished by telling him, very emphatically, when we get married, we're not doing any of this bullshit, before stomping off to his kitchen in search of some wine. Not if. When.

By that point, he'd already been thinking about it, so hearing her say it hadn’t been a shock. He loved her and said it--before they got off the phone, via text, whenever she made him laugh unexpectedly--often. They spent as much time together as possible and still complained they didn't see each other enough. Splitting time between their two apartments was just beginning to rankle, and he knew marriage was something she wanted someday and that she'd need to know it was on the table before she considered giving up any of her carefully maintained independence. Marriage itself had al ways mattered less to him--he figured he might do it some day, if he had a good reason, but it wasn't something he necessarily aspired to for its own sake. Now, though, with Sloan, he had a good reason. It would make her happy, and that's the beginning and the and of the list of reasons to do it. So, he'd started looking for a ring.

On that score, he thinks he did pretty well. Looking down at their joined hands, her engagement ring--a beautiful vintage piece with a deceptively simple oval cut ruby at the center, because he'd heard enough rants about the diamond trade and the insane mark ups on new jewelry to get a general sense of her taste--looks even better now that it's paired with her wedding band. He raises their hands so he can kiss the back of hers, and she offers him an amused smile in return.

"Mac will forgive us," he says. Every painful memory of planning her own wedding had, of course, immediately vanished when Mac had heard the news of their engagement, and they'd needed to be strategically vague with her about their plans in order to pull off an elopement without arousing her suspicions. "Just remind her of the save-the-date fiasco and she'll be on our side."

Sloan winces at the memory. "Good point," she says. "But she needs to be our first call from the hotel once we get there."

"I'm pretty sure your mother will actually disown you if she doesn't hear from you first."

"Yes, but my mom will keep me on the phone forever, and then I'll be too tired to call anyone else. So I should call Mac first, then my mother."

"Fine, but if your mom finds out you got married in the gossip columns before you tell her yourself--"

She makes a noise of frustration and throws her head back against the seat with a thump. "This is terrible," she says. "We should have just kept living in sin."

That surprises a laugh out of him. "These are the perils of being such a big celebrity, I'm afraid," he says, utterly unsympathetic. "All the libertarians who think they could change your mind on government spending if given half a chance are going to be heartbroken you're off the market, too."

"Now that is the one group of people I'd love to tell the good news."

"As if they'd let you get a word in edgewise."

"Good point," Sloan concedes. "Still, the first thing we do once we get to the hotel is call our families--including Mac. That cannot wait."

"Sloan, when we get to the hotel for our honeymoon, I can guarantee the last thing on my mind will be calling my family."

"Hey, if you'd rather your mother finds out from TMZ, that’s your prerogative."

"Have we considered having fewer people we love?" Don asks. "Because this is starting to feel excessive."

"Well, we now have a perfect way to insult anyone we'd like to get rid of," Sloan replies. "Maybe it won't make the news for a few days. That's always possible. Then we'd have more time to tell people on our own."

"I'm still partial to my suggestion of becoming more stingy with our affections now that we're married, but your idea could work too."

"And it gets you laid faster," she says, with a knowing look. "But it's not really up to us, is it? We'd have to get really lucky for it not to get leaked to the press somehow."

Don smiles at her. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm feeling really lucky. "

Sloan smiles too as he leans in for a kiss. "Definitely," she says, against his lips. "Very lucky."

#tthey're being so obnoxiously in love on this plane someone is going to tip off TMZ immediately god bless #i'm so sorry that half of this is them talking about Lost?? i have no idea where that came from #but also...as an AU it would rule tbf #i only watched the first three seasons so like i have no idea if the references hold up #but this fic probably takes place like 2015 or 2016ish #so don and sloan have seen all of lost at this point #and i can tell you that sloan probably hated the finale #i get a very strong sense that she would be livid about it for whatever reason #(i have no feelings about the finale i've never seen it do not @ me) #i'm not like perfectly happy with this but i'm posting it anyway #firstelevens #ask #touch prompts #The newsroom #don keefer #sloan sabbith #otp: you get me