RPF (other), Rachel Maddow/Stephen Colbert, "And this happened ... how?" Warning: striking lack of porn.
The short story was alcohol, but the short story was a lie.
Stephen met Rachel for the first time when Keith Olbermann brought her as his 'plus one' to a Daily Show party. They found themselves at the bar together a few times, chatted amiably, and made plans to meet up the next time she was free in New York.
The next time they met was two weeks after the party, at a nice cafe Stephen picked out. They arranged to meet for lunch with a few friends; when Stephen arrived twenty minutes late, something became apparent. Rachel smiled as he slipped into the seat across from her.
"When you suggested we get together some time," she said, "I assumed there would be other people." She smirked. "My mistake."
Stephen actually had the decency to blush before breaking out his 100 watt smile and giving a casual shrug. "Wouldn't you know it? I plum forgot to tell everyone else." His fingers played nervously with his wedding ring. "I hope you don't mind being stuck with just me."
Of course she didn't, though no one said it. And she didn't mind the next time they met, a week later. Or the next. Or the next. It became a rountine, although neither could really pin down what 'it' was.
The sixth time they met, Rachel showed up to find Stephen already there. She walked over to him but didn't sit; he was twirling his straw in his drink.
"What are we doing?" She asked. It needed asking.
When he looked up it was obvious he was seriously considering the question. His hands stilled on the table.
"I'm not sure," he said, finally. "I know I look forward to seeing you each week. I know I feel guilty about it, but when you're actually in front of me, I don't care."
Even though they were surrounded by other patrons the room seemed silent. When Rachel finally spoke her own voice sounded loud in her ears.
"I'm a lesbian," she said, but she sat down anyway.
*
Stephen and Rachel kissed for the first time when they both arrived late for a dinner party at Keith's home. It was the alcohol, they would say later; they got drunk at the party. It was rowdy and people were dancing. Stephen convinced Rachel to dance with him with a wink and a smile.
"Come on, everyone's dancing, no one will bat an eye," he said, and no one did.
They were comfortable and loose; they were surrounded by their friends. They weren't really thinking, were emboldened by the crowd's disinterest. And, yes, they had had a few drinks each and threw caution to the wind.
The first time Stephen pressed his mouth to hers it felt like time skipped a beat. This was what they had been building up to for months now, what felt like a perfect moment.
Until the moment ended and there everyone was, still not batting an eye, but only because they were staring too hard to blink. Stephen and Rachel glanced away from eachother.
It was the alcohol, they claimed, and their friends believed them. But Stephen and Rachel knew better.
The alcohol was the how, but they both knew it wasn't the why.