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[3rd person pov, focus on donna]

It's her first date in a long time.

She's looking forward to it.

The guy is everything she's looking for: smart, funny, intelligent and attractive.

She met him in a bar recently, when her roommate pushed her to go talk to him. Her roommate is constantly pushing her to go talk to guys. She's not sure whether she finds this annoying or not.

The date starts well. He's as cute as she remembers and the conversation flows freely.

They order their food and talk in between eating.

Much ground is covered - she feels as though she's practically telling her life story, but that's fine.

She listens a lot too. He enjoys talking and she doesn't mind. Sometimes it's nice just to listen.

She doesn't drink much, not even when they go to a bar after dinner.

The bar is crowded and noisy and she has to sit up close to hear him. Perhaps she sits a little closer than is necessary. Perhaps she laughs a little more than is required.

They talk more, moving even closer as time goes on and the background noise increases.

Eventually, he kisses her and she kisses him back.

After a while, she looks at her watch. She has to be in early the next day and wants as much sleep as she can get.

He offers to walk her home. She accepts.

He takes her hand and she doesn't pull it away. Sometimes it's nice to feel wanted, she thinks.

They get to her apartment and stand outside for a while, talking.

He kisses her again and she doesn't mind at first.

He's not pushy, but she feels decidedly uncomfortable as he starts kissing her cheek, forehead, and fingers, claiming them as his own.

She's not sure that she wants to be claimed.

He tells her how beautiful she is; how he can't keep his hands off her. She smiles and thanks him, not knowing what to say.

He continues with the compliments and the kissing and while she doesn't object, she feels awkward.

Eventually she pulls away - she's tired and wants to sleep.

He says he'll call her.

She lies in bed and thinks. She thinks too much about it.

She feels detached and almost cold by the encounter.

She doesn't know what she wants, but she knows that she doesn't want to be worshipped.

She doesn't want to be swept off her feet.

She values friendship above relationships. Or friendship in a relationship.

Not someone who changes once they're alone, suffocating her with affection and compliments. She's not sure she likes that.

At least, not so much so soon.

And she certainly doesn't want to be claimed. She values her independence far too much to belong to someone.

She doesn't think she'll go out with him again. It's a shame. Before he decided to claim her she had a great time.

Now she's not so sure.

She sleeps little, and it annoys her that she worries so much about it.

His voice reverberates in her head. "And I claim this finger, and this finger, and this neck, and..."

She shudders.

It's not real.

That's the problem.

She wants something that's real, she decides at four o'clock that morning.

She wants something she can believe in, that's based on something more substantial.

Something based not on ownership, but give and take.

She wonders if maybe it's the idea of commitment that scares her. But no. She might not have the need to be coupled as Josh once said, but neither is she afraid of it. With the right person.

She knows who this person is.

She's always known.

Someone who demands as much from her as she is willing to share. Someone who doesn't make her panic at the idea of intimacy.

Someone she knows will never push her because he knows her so well. Knows exactly who she is and what she wants.

That doesn't scare her at all.

She stays awake thinking about him, and then, when sleep fails her, she gives up and goes to work early.

He's already there.

He tries to joke about her date, but she knows that he's just misdirecting.

She smiles, telling him that her date was just a little bit too friendly.

He looks concerned, asking her if she's okay.

She nods "yes" before leaving his office for her desk.

She knows that he's watching her. His stare is of desire, but not one of possession.

She smiles to herself.

She knows exactly what she wants.

[the end]

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