Caz's West Wing and Studio 60 Fanfiction

FF: The Best Cure Part Two (NC-17)

Thu, 13 Aug 2009 21:37:28 GMT

Notes, disclaimers etc. in part one

By the time they were standing under the warm spray, kissing, touching, exploring each other’s warm, wet bodies, all Donna’s misgivings had gone the same way as the water draining from the tub.

Whatever this was, she was going to enjoy it while she could… and with that sentiment in mind, she picked up the small bottle of shower gel she’d used earlier and squirted some into her hands. Slowly, she soaped Josh’s chest, his back, his shoulders and arms, standing close as she reached around him, her skin tingling as he ran his hands lightly up and down her spine and brought them to rest on her ass so that he could pull her more firmly against him. Skin to skin, he bent his head to hers, kissing her slowly and thoroughly, his growing erection pushing against her belly. Sighing into his mouth, she returned the kiss for all she was worth before pulling back so that she could continue her pleasurable journey down his body, bending to run her soapy hands down his muscular thighs and calves before moving up to the most… interesting part of his anatomy.

She didn’t think she’d ever seen anything quite so sexy as when he dropped his head back and closed his eyes in response to her gentle strokes as she washed him. She watched, fascinated, as he swelled to full hardness in her hand, felt her arousal growing as she listened to the sound of his increasingly uneven breathing and the small, impassioned sounds coming from the back of his throat.

“Donna,” he croaked, pulling her gently to her feet. “If you keep doing that, I - ”

She nuzzled his throat. “Isn’t that the idea?”

He chuckled softly. “I hope so. But,” he went on, his voice against her ear dropping to a low growl, “there are other things I want to do to you first.”

She sighed raggedly into his skin; his words, his tone of voice setting a ripple of electricity cascading through her body and wet heat rushing to her sex. Josh kissed her again, pushing his hips into hers, his tongue thrusting into her mouth showing her in no uncertain terms what other things he had in mind.

After they’d rinsed away the soap, Donna shut off the water while Josh stepped out of the tub and picked up a couple of towels. Wordlessly, he handed one to her before wiping the other briefly across his chest and then wrapping it low around his hips. He helped Donna out, kept hold of her hand and drew her with him back into the bedroom, clearly intent on picking up where they’d left off in the shower.

“In a hurry?” she murmured breathily as he feathered a string of delightfully light kisses along the column of her throat.

“Hell, yes,” he hit the sensitive spot just below her ear and Donna clutched his shoulders tightly to stop her knees buckling. “You wouldn’t believe…” his warm breath on her lobe made her shudder, “how often…” one of his hands moved to the front of her towel, “…I’ve thought about this.” He tugged gently, and Donna felt a rush of cooler air as the fluffy cotton fell away from her body.

After an admission like that, what else could she do, but kiss him senseless? As soon as her lips touched his, Josh pulled her flush against him and began to run his hands slowly but surely over her body, his fingers trailing fire across her skin. Donna honestly didn’t think she’d ever experienced anything like this – her reaction to him was so visceral; the way he tasted, his scent, the feeling of his warm, hard body pressed to hers all conspiring to overload her senses and overwhelm her.

Without breaking the kiss, she skimmed a hand down his chest, feeling his pectorals flex as she brushed her thumb over and around his nipple, then trailed her fingers lightly back and forth across his abdomen, smiling against his mouth when she felt him flinch slightly in response. Sliding a finger beneath his towel, she unfastened it and let it fall to the floor, letting her fingers continue their journey south so that she could cup his balls, the heel of her hand pressing against his erection.

He groaned into her mouth and slid a hand up her side to her breast, his thumb brushing tantalisingly across her nipple as she wrapped her hand firmly around his cock, the heat and wetness pulsing between her thighs accompanying the thought that it would soon be buried inside her.

Josh moved his lips to her neck, his breathing harsh and unsteady. “Donna,” he mumbled between kisses, “bed.” And he began to walk her backwards towards it, while Donna thought wryly that that must be the shortest sentence he’d ever uttered.

His lips didn’t leave her skin as he bent slightly to pull back the bedcovers, or when he turned them so that they could lower themselves to the mattress. He pulled her on top of him, angling her so that he could put his mouth on her breast, kissing the soft flesh, drawing her nipple into the warm cavern of his mouth, laving with his tongue, nipping with his teeth, while his hand played with her other breast. Donna closed her eyes and moaned in pleasure, her hips beginning to gyrate of their own volition; every nip, every touch heightening her arousal.

When Josh turned his head so that he could attend to her other breast, she opened her eyes and dipped her head forward so that she could watch him. He glanced up at her through his lashes, his hooded gaze sending a jolt of electricity through her, the expression on his face the most erotic thing she’d ever seen and – dear God, the way he was savoring her made her hotter and wetter, if either of those things were possible.

He released her nipple, the lingering wetness from his mouth cooling her flesh suddenly, and she moved herself down a little, so that she could kiss him. Her hair fell about his face and she felt his fingers threading through it, his palm warm against her cheek. She could feel his erection rubbing against her pubic bone and shifted slightly, settling her knees either side of his waist, freeing his cock and moving so that the tip was nudging the entrance to her body. She couldn’t wait any longer - was about to lower herself onto him, when she felt his hands on her hips, keeping her still.

He stared up at her, something like awe on his face, his eyes, always so expressive, darkened with desire. “We didn’t… uh… use anything before,” he said huskily. “Do you want me to…?”

She shook her head. “I’m good.” God, she was more than good – she felt incredible –his hands on her thighs, his mouth on her skin… she couldn’t remember wanting anything, anyone - as much as she wanted Josh and if he didn’t fill her soon, she was very likely to implode.

Lost in sensation, she didn’t immediately register the sound of her name; but then she heard Josh say through gritted teeth, “You ready to annoy the neighbors some more?”

She bent her head so that she could kiss him. “God, yes.” Although to tell the truth, she’d forgotten all about them.

She reached down and helped to guide him inside of her, letting out a sigh of satisfaction as he filled her, loving the feeling of him, hard and strong inside her. When she’d taken him in all the way, she tightened her muscles experimentally, causing Josh to arch back into the pillows as he thrust up into her. “God, Donna…”

“Mmm…” She began to undulate on top of him, her hands splayed on his chest, as she experimented with the speed and direction of her movements, finding a rhythm they both liked.

The sounds Josh was making just served to add fuel to her fire, her own moans and sighs mingling with his in the otherwise silent room. One of his hands slid up her body to cup her breast, his thumb and forefinger playing with her nipple as his other found its way to the place they were joined, seeking out and finding her swollen clit.
She couldn’t help the cry that escaped her lips as his fingers began to circle and pinch lightly, bursts of erotically charged energy racing through her veins.

She began to ride him harder, faster, rising and falling to meet his thrusts; the tension in her limbs, her chest, her belly making her feel suddenly as though she was too big for her skin.

Josh drew her down for a kiss, his hands coming to rest on her hips, his movements becoming shallower. “Please,” he ground out, “just… stop, I can’t,” he swallowed, “hold on much -“

Donna squirmed against his firm grip. “I don’t want you to,” she breathed, framing his face in her hands, pressing frantic kisses to his cheeks, his forehead. “Josh… please,” she whispered against his lips, “I’m so close.”

He exhaled sharply, his eyes searching hers briefly; and then he began to pump up into her again, slowly at first, the change in her position producing more of the friction she so desperately craved. Josh’s hands relaxed their grip enough for Donna to begin to move with him, her body taut with anticipation as they moved faster – then he hooked a hand around the back of her neck and pulled her down to him hungrily, engaging her in a series of open-mouthed, wet, messy kisses that went on and on, both of them groaning loudly, their tongues tangling wildly. Vaguely, in the distance, Donna could hear the sounds of their coupling - skin slapping against skin, the slip of his cock moving in and out of her, the bed creaking, the headboard banging; her body was humming - she was so aroused she could barely think – all she knew right at that moment was that Josh was making love to her, that he was going to make her come - and when he lifted his head to take her nipple into his mouth, she felt the tension that had built inside reach breaking point, the exhilaration of the climb giving way to a rush of sensation – and she screamed as she smashed into thousands of tiny pieces, her orgasm hitting her with staggering force. She could hear that Josh was vocalising his pleasure, too, as his hips jerked upwards with increasing urgency until her name ripped from his throat and his back arched from the bed as he spent himself inside her.

The rippling of her muscles around him was beginning to subside when she finally collapsed onto his chest. She felt his arms come around her and they lay like that, neither of them able to move, just panting, gulping in air.

Eventually, Josh said, in a gravelly voice, “Why did we wait so long to do that?”

Donna didn’t – still couldn’t – move. “Because if we’d done it before, you’d quite possibly have killed me,” she mumbled into his chest. “And without me, you’d never have been able to make sense of the filing system.”

She felt him thread his fingers into her hair and lifted her head to see his eyes twinking at her. “Ah, yes. I knew there had to be a reason.”

With a groan, she managed to lift herself off him and gracelessly crumpled into a heap at his side. “Ooof!”

She didn’t need to look up to know that Josh was grinning as he tucked one hand behind his head and gathered her to him with the other. Donna traced a couple of fingers up and down his chest while they lay there quietly for a minute or two.

Eventually, when his breathing had returned to normal, Josh said, “I have to go…”

Donna waved a hand, absently, “Sure. Me, too.”

But neither of them moved. Donna poked his side. “You’re not moving.”

Josh put his forearm across his eyes so that all she could see was a dimple and the corner of his mouth twitching. “I’m not sure I can walk after that.”

Donna huffed – and looked up seconds later to see him peering down at her quizically. “You’re not moving either,”

She arched a brow. “You’re my guest. I was being polite.”

“So we’re back to miss prim and proper now, are we?”

“Yeah. Somehow I think that ship’s sailed.”

Josh chuckled softly - then blew out a breath and rolled away so that he could get up and make his way to the bathroom. After a couple of minutes, Donna got out of bed too, and followed him. They met in the doorway, Josh on his way out, her on the way in.

She smiled at him a little shyly and then turned to look at him as he ambled back towards the bed. Well, she reasoned, she was tired, not dead; and watching Josh – fully clothed – walk away from her had long been one of her favourite pastimes. But she had to admit, watching him do so naked was infinitely more appealing.

When she’d done what she needed to do, Donna returned to the bed and lifted the covers so that she could slide in beside him. Instinctively she turned onto her side, scooting back when he draped his arm about her waist and pulled her close, the warmth of his body enveloping her.

Idly, she began to trace small circles on the back of his hand with a fingertip. “Before,” she said softly, “when you said I wasn’t just anyone. What did you mean?”

Behind her, Josh sighed. “I meant…” she felt him prop himself up on his elbow and turned her head to see him scrubbing his other hand across his face. “I don’t know what I meant; all I know is that this isn’t just… you know.”

Donna frowned up at him. “Sex?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He ran his hand up and down her arm. “I mean, of course, it’s sex, it’s – well, it’s not just a – a campaign fling. If that was all I wanted I could probably have found a doz…” Donna shot him a pointed look - and he stopped talking and cleared his throat.

“And anyway,” he want on after a short pause. “What about you? You said you thought about me - us - doing,” he lifted his hand from her arm and waved it vaguely at the bed, “ uh… this, so …”

Donna turned on to her back, her mind racing. She’d known Josh long enough to recognise one of his favorite tactics when faced with a question he couldn’t – or didn’t want to – answer. But then, she realised, she couldn’t really give him a suitable response, either. Obviously, she was deeply attracted to him; she liked spending time with him, appreciated that he treated her (for the most part) as an equal, and although they’d only known each other for a few months, she sensed that there was already something between them, something tangible yet indefinable, a connection that she felt deep in her bones.

And above and beyond all that, she knew that here was a man who would never set out to use her or hurt her. Sure, she came when he yelled, she fetched and carried for him - but that was her job. Apart from that though, she realised suddenly, Josh had given her back something that she’d almost forgotten she’d once possessed, something which she’d lost over the years she’d spent with Tim – her confidence. The little spark of it she’d shown that February day in Josh’s office had grown since then, nurtured by his faith in her …

But she couldn’t tell him that; it was too… personal. For the time being, anyway. So instead, she echoed his words - “It’s not just sex for me, either,” and hoped that it would be enough for now.

Josh yawned contentedly, settled himself back down onto his pillow and put an arm around her shoulders. Donna tucked herself into his side, smiling; Josh Lyman, political attack-dog extraordinaire - was a cuddler. A thought that shouldn’t have been surprising, considering how tactile he could be, but still…

She could feel sleep beginning to approach; her limbs felt pleasantly heavy and her eyes were beginning to close, lulled by the sound of Josh’s regular breathing, the gentle rise and fall of his chest and his fingers scratching lightly at her scalp.

“What happens if we win?” she asked casually, sliding her hand across his smooth, flat abdomen.

“When we win,” he corrected her almost immediately - and Donna didn’t need to see his face to know that his expression would be one of quiet determination.

“Okay, when we win,” she agreed, drowsily. “What are we going to do?”

“About what?”

“Well, about the fact that we’re…” she imitated his earlier hand wave to indicate the bed, “and I work for you.”

Josh sniffed. “I don’t know. It’s not as if we’re doing anything wrong.”

“No, but…”

“If we’re offered jobs in the administration,” he shrugged, “we’ll work something out.”

Donna yawned. “You could always fire me.”

“I could do that, yes,” he agreed, a smile in his tone. “Although knowing you, you’d probably ignore me.”

Donna sighed. “Probably,” and nuzzled her cheek against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent as she dropped off to sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When Donna opened her eyes again it was still dark, the LED display on the clock showing it was just before two-thirty am.

The two of them had turned onto their sides in their sleep and they were once again spooned together, Josh’s arm resting heavily across her waist. She snuggled back against him and smiled to herself when she felt something rock-hard pushing at the base of her spine. Lazily, she pushed her backside gently against him, rubbing herself against his groin.

Josh groaned – but he didn’t wake up, so she did it again, a little more firmly this time.

Turning her head, she saw that that had at last provoked a reaction; Josh opened one eye and then closed it again.

“Insatiable woman,” he grumbled, his hand at her breast belying his irritation.

Donna wriggled against him again. “Waste not, want not,” she said primly – and Josh burst out laughing – an amazing, wonderful sound that made her heart leap in her chest.

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, Donna turned around, pushed him onto his back and started to kiss her way down his torso, running the tip of her tongue from his clavicle down between his pecs, to his abs, further down and across his hipbone…

“Where are you - ?” she heard him mutter sleepily before she disappeared under the covers, his next utterance muffled – and anything but sleepy.

“Oh, God… Donna…”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next time she awoke, it was to a gentle hand on her shoulder and the sound of her name being spoken softly .

“mmmtime is it?” she drawled, her eyes still closed.

“Just after four,” came the quiet reply.

“k,” she grunted, trying to force her eyes open.

When she did, it was to see Josh looking down at her affectionately in the dim early-morning light.

He dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. “I think I should go. It could be awkward for you if I’m seen leaving your room – and I don’t want…” he paused, his eyes searching her face as though to make sure she took his meaning. When she nodded, he relaxed, visibly. “I’ll go back to my room; I’ve got some things I need to work on anyway. You get some more sleep and I’ll see you at six for breakfast.”

“k,” she muttered again.

Opening her eyes fully, she reached up to touch her palm to his cheek. His hair was mussed, his stubble scratched against her skin and his eyes were still a little heavy from sleep. She thought he looked utterly adorable.

“You’re not moving,” she pointed out, following his movements with her eyes as he glanced over his shoulder at the clock.

“I know,” he replied, turning back to face her.

His steadfast gaze seemed to heat her blood – and it was all she could do to stop herself from asking him to stay. She understood his reasons for not wanting to be seen leaving – she wasn’t exactly ready to advertise the fact that they’d spent the night together either – but as she reached out and stroked her palm across the firm contours of his body, revelling in the hardness of the muscle underneath the smoothness of his skin, breathed in his scent, so familiar and enticing… it was hard to remember why either of them should have to leave the bed at all.

Slowly, she reached both arms up around his neck and pulled his head down to hers.

“Donna,” he protested feebly against her lips, “this isn’t helping…”

“It’s not?” she breathed, trailing her lips across his cheek to his ear and sucking gently on the soft lobe.

“No.” Josh groaned as she flicked her tongue around the shell of his ear. “Donna… I…” and then his arms came around her tightly and he rolled her underneath him.

“To hell with it,” he growled, settling one hard, masculine thigh between her legs. She arched her back when his lips began to explore the sensitive flesh of her throat, turning her head as far as she could to the side to allow him access to the erogenous zones at the back of her neck, her moans of pleasure slicing through the early-hours’ silence as he grazed the extra-sensitive skin there with his teeth and bit down gently.

Her whole body shivered, her hips bucking up off the bed as he continued his assault on her senses, his lips now trailing across her collarbone and down to the swell of her breast. He swept his hand down her body, sliding it between her legs, discovering how hot, how wet she was for him already.

“Josh…” she sighed langorously, bringing one hand to the back of his head so that she could thread her fingers into the thick hair there, arching and moaning again when he slid a couple of fingers between her folds, his thumb brushing lightly across her clit a couple of times before settling there in earnest, circling, rubbing, teasing, bringing her to a peak of arousal and keeping her there until she thought she might go mad with wanting… and then he kissed his way down her body so that he could replace his fingers with his mouth.

“Oh, my God!” she yelped, the first touch of his tongue on her sex making her hips buck off the bed – but Josh didn’t stop what he was doing, just put a hand on her hip to steady her and began to lick her slowly and thoroughly. Donna moaned and arched up into him, her final coherent thought that at last, she could see why her friends had been so enthusiastic about oral sex…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Utterly satisfied and sated, Donna hadn’t the energy to do anything other than watch as Josh pulled on his boxers and moved to pick up the rest of his clothes from the chair by the window. He came back around to her side of the bed and perched next to her - and was pulling on his pants when she realised that he’d been completely focused on her before and that she hadn’t done anything to reciprocate.

She cleared her throat. “You… um, didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?”

“Didn’t – um,” she looked pointedly at his crotch.

“Ah. No,” he said, swiftly buttoning his shirt.

Donna pouted and turned onto her front. “I don’t think that’s fair.”

Josh leaned in, a lazy grin on his face. “Oh, that was on account. Don’t think I won’t call in that IOU.”

He finished dressing then retrieved his jacket, shrugged it on and tucked his rumpled bow-tie into the breast pocket.

“Okay. Well.” He cleared his throat and looked around somewhat uncertainly. “See you at breakfast.”

Donna smiled toothily at him. “See you at breakfast.”

Josh pursed his lips, nodded and turned towards the door. Hand on the doorknob, he paused to look back at her, his eyes twinkling wickedly.

“Yeah. You know how I like my coffee, right?”

Donna pummelled her pillow and rolled her eyes at him. “In your dreams.”

Josh smirked. “Trust me,” he drawled, his voice suddenly low and seductive. “”When I dream about you, coffee’s the last thing on my mind.”

Donna threw the other pillow at him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

An hour or so later, she was showered, dressed and busily checking and re-checking the room to make sure she’d packed everything.

With five minutes to spare, she was downstairs and in the restaurant helping herself to coffee and fruit, fielding questions from Margaret about her room and whether she’d slept okay, listening to Sam and Toby arguing about the latest draft of the new speech, watching the heads of the few male guests not attached to the campaign turn as CJ breezed in…

Donna smiled to herself.

Nothing changes she thought – somewhat ironically, given the fact that her life had just undergone a pretty seismic shift.

The room began to fill up quickly after that as the rest of the campaign staff joined them, and by the time Josh appeared, showered, shaved and wearing those beat-up-looking jeans that fit him like a second skin – Donna had finished one cup of coffee, ordered something to eat and was busily skimming through the headlines in the Post.

Some things definitely hadn’t changed, she reflected ruefully as she watched him making his way across the room. Because no matter how much she’d castigated herself for her elemental reaction to him in the past, and despite the fact that she now knew exactly what he looked like underneath his clothes – looking at Josh still made the hair at the back of her neck stand on end while her stomach did somersaults.

“Mornin’,” he grinned as he came to a halt at her side. The glint in his eye brought back an abrupt reminder of the way he’d looked at her last night – and Donna felt her face grow warm as she smiled back. For a few, timeless seconds, their gazes remained locked, Josh seemingly unable to take his eyes from her face – until a burst of laughter coming from somewhere across the room checked them both, and Josh cleared his throat softly before he slid into the empty seat next to her. It was odd, Donna thought idly, that no matter how many people there were sitting around a table, whenever Josh was expected there was somehow always an empty place left next to her.

Before she could say anything however, Josh’s cellphone rang and he was up and out of his seat pacing the length of the carpet for the duration of a short, clipped conversation.

When he sat down again, he was scowling.

“Problem?” she asked, pushing the bowl of fruit towards him without even looking up from the paper.

Josh picked up a fork and speared a strawberry. “Could be.” He twisted around in his seat. “Where are Dumb and Dumber?”

Across the table, Margaret sniggered. Donna lowered the paper slowly and turned an exasperated look on him.

“What?” he said, around a mouthful of fruit.

Donna helped herself to a piece of pineapple, pushed him an empty cup and pulled the coffee pot across the table towards them.

Josh looked down at the cup pointedly, but Donna ignored him. “Dean and Deborah,” she stressed, “are over there.”

“Well,” he began, picking up the pot with an exaggerated sigh, “they - ” and he stopped, looking up in confusion as the waitress put a plate in front of him loaded with scrambled eggs and bagels. His attention momentarily diverted, he put the frowned at it and put the coffee down. “Did I order this?”

Donna picked up half a bagel and began to butter it. “I did,” she said briskly, handing it to him when she’d finished. “Breakfast is the most important - ”

“Meal of the day,” Josh finished in a sing-song voice. “Yeah, I know.”

Donna looked up to find Margaret staring at them oddly. “What?”

The red-head shook her head hastily. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Okay,” Donna said, turning her attention back to Josh. “So what do you want Dumb – I mean, Dean and Deborah – for?”

He took a bite of bagel and munched on it for a few seconds. “I wanna take ‘em out back and shoot ‘em, but seeing I can’t do that, I’ll settle for putting them in a room with Mrs Bartlet and letting them explain that they can’t read a calendar.”

“Advance didn’t change her flight?”

“Nope – and she’s mad as hell. Leo’s asked me to deal with it - so now it’s down to you.”

Donna shook her head in disbelief and then began to tuck into Josh’s breakfast, forcing herself to ignore the fact that there were some bagel crumbs at the corner of his mouth that were just begging to be licked off.

“Well?” he said, expectantly.

“Well, what?”

“Well, aren’t you going to do … whatever it is you do and - ” he waved his fork, “you know, fix it?”

“Yes, I am,” she said smoothly, “after breakfast.” She turned to face him, making sure her expression was as neutral as possible. “For some reason, I’m,” she paused purposefully, “absolutely ravenous this morning.”

“Oh?” Josh said, the muscle in his cheek was twitching the way it did when he was suppressing a smile. He sounded a little strangled - probably, she suspected, because of the effort it was taking him to keep a straight face.

Again, Donna felt the heat of his eyes as they rested on hers. The air between them seemed to crackle – until, with a supreme effort, she tore her gaze away from his and helped herself to another mouthful of eggs.

“I thought that was my breakfast,” Josh said dryly.

“It is – that’s why I’m eating it.”

“Did it never occur to you to get your own?”

“It’s easier this way,” she said, dabbing the corner of her mouth with her napkin. “Because I don’t have to choose.”

“But you chose that!” Josh pointed out exasperatedly.

“But that was for you – choosing for myself is much harder.”

“You know, you’re - ”

His voice tailed off, and Donna cocked her head encouragingly.

“Nothin’.” Josh pursed his lips and puffed out a resigned sigh, once more picking up the coffee pot.

Donna skimmed through a couple more pages of the paper while she ate, a companionable silence settling between them in contrast to the chatter and activity buzzing around elsewhere. Then across the table Margaret’s cellphone rang, which broke Donna’s concentration, the brief distraction allowing a nearby conversation to make its way to her ears.

“Honey,” a woman’s was voice intoning wearily, “I’m too tired to argue. I’m sure they were doing it all night – and the noise they were making; if I had the energy I’d find out who it was and give them a piece of my mind! ”

Her eyes widening in shock, Donna put down her fork carefully at the same time as she registered the sound of a cup banging down on the table next to her. Without otherwise moving, she began absently to slap Josh on the back between the shoulder blades in response to the choking sounds he was making.

“… well, whoever she was,” she heard a man reply, a trace of amusement in his voice, “she was having a damn good time.”

Josh stopped spluttering – and out of the corner of her eye, Donna couldn’t help but notice him pulling himself a little straighter in his seat. She didn’t dare turn to look at him, but she’d bet good money that he was wearing a smug grin.

“Well if you want any more good times,” came the disgruntled response, “I suggest you find us somewhere I’ll be able to get some sleep afterwards!”

Blushing furiously, while at the same time trying to stifle a giggle, Donna was thankful that Sam and Toby were oblivious to everything but their continued argument about the merits of metaphor, and Margaret was still on the phone. Without speaking, she pushed the plate aside and stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt as she did so. Draining his cup, Josh stood too, and they walked to the door, his hand resting – as it often did - at the small of her back.

Josh held the door open for her. “You okay?” he said quietly as she passed him.

“I’m fine,” she replied truthfully, touched by his concern. “Really. I just think,” she went on unable to supress a grin any longer, “we should get out of here before someone complains to the management!”

Josh snorted. “Well at least you got your revenge.”

“Yeah. How ‘bout that?” She licked her lips and turned to face him. “Thanks for the help.”

Josh shrugged nonchalantly and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Any time,” he said, throatily. They came to a halt at the elevators. “In fact,” he continued, glancing around quickly, “we’re going to be back in D.C tonight.”

“We are,” Donna nodded.

“I could… uh,” he scratched the back of his head. “Treat you to a large breakfast tomorrow morning?”

A slow smile spread across her face. “I’d like that.”

They stood unmoving for a few seconds, until the elevator ‘dinged’ its arrival – then Josh sniffed and shuffled his feet. “Okay.”

Donna hitched her thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll just… go check for messages.”

“’kay.”

Josh stood aside as people alighted from the elevator car. “Oh, and by the way?” he said, putting his hand on her arm as she turned to go. “My neighbor is seventy-five years old and deaf as a post.”

She quirked a brow. “I need to know that because?”

He leaned in to whisper seductively in her ear. “You can make as much noise as you want.”

End.

FF: The Best Cure Part One (NC-17)

Thu, 13 Aug 2009 21:35:03 GMT

Disclaimers: I own nothing, I’m making nothing… these wonderful characters were created by Aaron Sorkin and belong to Sorkin, Wells and NBC. I’m just taking them out for a spin and will return when I’ve finished with them. Although I might need to hang on to Josh for a while …

Category/Pairing: Josh/Donna, smut.

Spoilers: Er… this is set pre-series, so there probably are some!

Rating: NC-17

I reckon this one deserves the title of “longest fic ever to sit around on Caz’s computer waiting to be finished”. I started doodling bits of it back in the Spring of 2007 when I signed up for that year’s dooooooom ficathon, but then some other ideas popped into my head and I wrote those instead. Then I signed up for dooooooom in 2008, and was searching for an idea when I remembered I had this half-worked-out fic still hanging around. So I took a look at it, and thought I’d try to finish it for that year’s smutfest. Sadly, however, real life has eaten up most of my writing time and I wasn’t able to get it done.

BUT – I haven’t let a fic defeat me yet, and I’ve been meaning to dust this off and finish it for ages. Yes, it’s full o’ smut, but it was intended for doooooooom, after all. That said, I still can’t see J&D getting up to the really kinky stuff, so you’ll have to make do with masturbation, banging the boss and… er… is there an aural equivalent of voyeurism?

And the title fairy has clearly abandoned me because this is the best I could do. I’ve only had a year to think about it, after all.

With many, MANY thanks to my dear friend zinke for her encouragement, her help and her ability to remain sane while being bombarded with twenty e-mails a second!

Being anally retentive about that sort of thing, I proofed it myself, so any mistakes are mine!

The Best Cure

Oohhh… yeah…mmmmm… *thump*

*thump*

Oh, God, yes… right there… ooohhh… *thump*

*thump*

Mmmmm… oohhh…don’t stop… God, don’t… *thump*

*thump*

God… oh, God… that’s… oohhh… *thump*

Donna huffed for what felt like the hundredth time that night and turned onto her other side, trying to wrap her pillow over her ears in a vain attempt to block out the noises coming from the room next door.

It was the first time in the last few weeks that she’d gotten to bed before midnight and she’d been looking forward to treating herself to a long, hot bath and more than about four hours sleep. There were times – and tonight was one of them – when she wondered what the hell she’d been thinking the day she’d wandered into the Bartlet for America headquarters and offered her services as a volunteer. Granted, she was on salary now, but that didn’t mean she could remember the last time a meal had consisted of more than a diet Coke and fries, or when ‘getting ready for work’ in the morning had taken longer than the couple of minutes it took to smear on a coat of lip-gloss and run a brush through her hair. The convention had been hectic to say the least and in the time leading up to it they’d been on the road constantly, the days flashing past in a blur, turning almost without her realizing it into weeks… but now it was behind them, the nomination was secure - and given that they’d been here for a couple of days, Donna had at last felt justified in unpacking more than her toothbrush and clean underwear.

Her early night had started so well. Governor Bartlet had gone to a function at NC State to meet with party activists and contributors – the usual sort of grip-and-grin that none of them liked and that she knew Toby, in particular, abhorred. Josh had been grumbling for most of the day about having to waste time making nice with a bunch of bio-nerds when he had important strategizing to do (at which she’d rolled her eyes and sniggered) - but had cheered up a little when she’d reminded him that Toby would almost certainly have a worse time than he did. And by the time Josh had turned up at her room earlier that evening, his tie dangling from his fingers as he propped himself against the doorjamb, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a pseudo-helpless grin, he’d been in a good enough mood to give her the night off.

She hadn’t bothered to remind him that Leo had already given her the night off anyway.

And so she’d allowed herself the luxury of a bath – a long soak which she’d known wouldn’t be interrupted by a frantic phone call from Josh at an inopportune time, wanting her to come and take some notes or tell him where he could find a file. Then, at around ten-thirty she’d settled into bed, picked up the book she’d been trying to finish for the past few weeks – and the couple next door had decided to get amorous. And while the moans and groans which had begun to permeate the adjoining wall had been quite amusing at first, after about five minutes Donna had begun to find them rather annoying. Since then, it had become something akin to Chinese Water Torture – the more Donna tried to ignore the increasingly impassioned sounds, the more difficult it became to do so.

It was ironic really; although they now had the money to be able to stay in a better class of hotel than those they’d patronised before the Governor had won the nomination, it seemed that one of the things that didn’t alter with price or the state of the décor was the fact that - no matter how nice the rooms might look - the walls were still pretty thin.

Donna lifted the pillow tentatively and poked her head out from underneath - only to discover that things hadn’t improved at all. She had no idea who the people next door were – she’d been a last minute addition to the trip and her room was in a different part of the building from the rest of the campaign staff - but whoever they were, for the last twenty minutes or so they’d clearly been enjoying themselves – and each other – and didn’t care who knew it.

The woman – well, Donna assumed from the pitch of the voice it was a woman – was now emitting a series of long drawn out moans, interspersed with the occasional, breathy screech; but at least the bed had stopped thumping against the wall and, she realized as she pulled the pillow away completely – she couldn’t hear the other voice at all. Which probably meant... Donna flopped down onto her back and groaned as she reached the conclusion that her neighbors must have reached the oral sex portion of the evening and that her enforced insomnia was probably far from over.

She thumped the pillow, turned back onto her side and closed her eyes, determining that she wasn’t going to listen any more. And she definitely wasn’t going to think about how long it had been since she’d last had sex. Or about how long it had been since she’d had really good sex. And as for oral sex, well, she couldn’t even remember how long it had been since she’d had any of that. Dr Free - Tim – hadn’t been bad in bed, not exactly - although to be honest, it wasn’t as though she’d had a lot to compare him to – but (according to her friends and Cosmo) he hadn’t been all that… adventurous and the sex had pretty much fizzled out by the time their relationship had ended.

So it had been – well, a while since she’d been touched or held. Or kissed. Or indeed anything else that hadn’t been self-induced. Oh, it wasn’t as though she hadn’t had opportunities. There were quite a few cute guys on the campaign, and one or two of them had come on to her on a couple of occasions, but she just hadn’t been interested.

Which led her thoughts to her other problem.

Josh.

The first time they’d met, in his messy, makeshift office, she’d been so intent on talking her way into a job, that she hadn’t really taken much notice of the man she’d hoped to work for. Sure, she’d noticed he was fairly young and, if she’d thought about it, she might have admitted to herself that he was kind of attractive in an unusual sort of way. But it wasn’t until about a week after she’d started working for him that she started to notice the way her stomach would flip when she saw him, or how she could feel herself flushing whenever he stood very close to her – which was fairly often given the limited space in which they’d had to work. But she told herself that she was just being stupid, that it was nothing more than a ridiculous crush – gratitude for the fact that, although Josh had figured her out in seconds, he’d decided to give her a chance anyway. So she squashed, denied, ignored… reminded herself over and over of the old adage about frying pans and fires… but none of it seemed to make any difference. And sometimes, when it was just the two of them working late at night and she’d look up and watch the shadows cast by the dim light of the desk lamp playing across the planes of his face, or when they were sharing a joke and he’d throw his head back and laugh or grin idiotically, the dimples in his cheeks emerging as his eyes danced with amusement or mischief – denial just wasn’t an option.

So she had a stupid, schoolgirl crush on her boss, which was quite possibly the dumbest thing she’d done since that time she’d tried out for the cheerleading team in High School. She rested her forearm over her eyes and sighed. Why on earth couldn’t she have had a thing for, say - for Sam? Seriously, it was crazy that she didn’t have a thing for Sam – practically every straight woman working on the campaign had a thing for Sam, which was perfectly understandable. By any standards, he was gorgeous – he looked like a movie star, he was smart, kind, generous… okay so he could be a bit clumsy, but other than that, one could almost say he was the perfect man.

Add to that the fact that Sam was just the type of guy she’d gone for in the past – neat, cute, preppy. So why the hell couldn’t she have had a thing for him? Why instead was she fixated on someone who was messy, arrogant, mouthy – and quite possibly the most smug individual ever to have crossed her path?

She sighed, turned on to her back again and stared up at the ceiling.

Why?

Because he’d taken her to Charleston the day after she’d shown up; because he always got extra fries and salad (although he rarely ate it) when they went to lunch or used the excuse that they were working late in order to buy her dinner – and okay, so most of the time they really were working late, but still, she knew that Toby and CJ didn’t treat their assistants the same way. Because – dammit - he had a smile that could light up a room, looked great in a tux and could wear a pair of jeans like no man she’d ever met.

Because while Sam was the kind of guy you took home to meet your mother, Josh was the kind of guy you took home and tied to the bed for a week.

And because he’d taken her back, no questions asked, the day she’d limped gingerly back into the office, her heart pounding so hard she’d been convinced Josh would be able to hear it as she’d looked around, expecting to see his desk neat and tidy because he’d hired someone else. But instead, all was chaos. Relief had spread rapidly through her at the sight of the boxes and piles of folders on the floor, at the fact that the phone was ringing off the hook; and as she’d stood nervously in the doorway, Josh had spun round, almost as if he’d been able to sense her presence – Thank God – there’s a pile of stuff on the desk – with a quirk of an eyebrow as he’d grabbed a couple of folders and rushed out. She remembered standing there watching him go with a goofy grin on her face before she’d taken off her coat, hung it on the peg in the corner and then set about putting the desk to rights.

If she hadn’t been smitten before, that would surely have sealed the deal.

Donna was brought back to the present by the sound of a particularly loud “Oh, God, YES!!” from next door, and a scream which she could only attribute to the woman having what certainly sounded like a pretty spectacular orgasm. Although, she surmised somewhat uncharitably, she could have been faking it.

Donna lay there, ears straining in the sudden silence. When, after a few seconds, there were no more bumps and groans, she heaved a sigh of relief and settled down to sleep at last.

Glancing at the clock, she could see that it wasn’t quite eleven, so she could still get in a good six and a half hours if she was lucky – they weren’t due to leave until about seven next morning, so she could sleep till -

Ooohhh…

Mmmmm…

Donna buried her face in her pillow and thumped it several times: no, no, no, NO! This wasn’t fair. Not being able to get to sleep was bad enough, without the unwanted reminder of just how long it had been since she’d had sex. But in addition to that, now she was having a hard time keeping her thoughts from turning towards the one damn man around here that she shouldn’t want and couldn’t have.

God, that’s…

*thump*

oohhhh, yeah…

Donna lifted her face from the pillow and turned to squint at the clock again. This couldn’t go on for much longer – unless the guy was the sexual equivalent of a long-distance runner, because surely, he’d have to … bring things to an appropriate conclusion at some point. And given the length of time she’d been forced to listen to them, she hoped she wouldn’t have too long to wait before the couple wore each other out and she could go to sleep.

Having resigned herself to waiting it out, Donna resumed staring up ceiling, trying not to think about the more pleasurable occasions she’d looked at ceilings. The moans and grunts coming from next door had become somewhat muffled, which led her to believe there was a lot of kissing going on… she could hear the bed creaking slowly, hear soft laughter and gentle sighs… and realised with a start that she was thinking about how much she enjoyed that early stage of sex, when things were just getting started – moving together slowly, finding a rhythm, touching, stroking, hands, lips, tongues…

She felt her face flush with heat and bolted upright. Damn – what the hell was she doing?

Listening to a couple of people she didn’t know screwing each other’s brains out in a hotel room in North Carolina - and imagining what it might be like to -

No.

She most certainly wasn’t going there. Not when she’d have to look him in the eye in the morning.

But –

Oohhhhh…

God –

Mmmmmm…

- actually –

Aahhhh…..

- that was pretty hot.

She put her hands to her face and felt the still heated skin of her cheeks almost burning into her palms. Her initial flush had been one of embarrassment, but now – now she could feel warmth beginning to seep through her, a heaviness settling between her thighs as she began to listen purposely to the ever more impassioned sounds that were traveling through the wall.

She took a deep breath.

Well.

Why not?

Donna swallowed hard and took a deep breath as she settled herself back onto her pillows again, dismissing the thought that what she was about to do was a bit… well, sordid. It wasn’t as though she’d never masturbated before. She was a grown woman – she knew her body’s needs and responses, and besides, she reasoned, she wasn’t going to be able to sleep until they’d finished next door; and there was clearly a lot to be said for that old adage, ‘If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.’

And if an orgasm was enough to send most men to sleep, then there was always the hope that maybe one could do the same for her.

She undid a couple of the buttons on her pajama top so that she could slide a hand inside to cup her breast; rubbed her thumb over and around her nipple, feeling it harden as she moved her other hand down to the waistband of her shorts. Closing her eyes, she began to concentrate on the sounds coming from the next room as they started to increase in volume and tempo. She spread her thighs and began to stroke one long finger along the already damp folds of her sex, the palm of her hand resting on her mound as she used another finger to circle and rub lightly at her clit. She felt her stomach muscles tighten and heard her breathing growing harsher as she moved her hand to her other breast, massaging, squeezing… she licked her forefinger and thumb and pinched her nipple, moaning softly as the wetness from her fingers cooled against her sensitive flesh…

*thump*

Oh, God…

*thump*

Mmmm… right there…

*thump… thump*

Yes… oh, yes, just… oh, God…

Oh, God, that felt good…

*thump*

Donna…

Josh…

Donna felt herself getting even hotter at that, her hips beginning to undulate even as she recognized, somewhere in the dim recesses of her mind, that thinking about Josh while she was doing this wasn’t such a good idea – but to hell with it, she was too far gone to care. So she let herself think about what it might feel like if he touched her, kissed her, fucked her – her fingers stroking, rubbing harder, faster -

Donna!

Suddenly there was a louder thump which startled Donna out of the sex-haze she’d fallen into. She swallowed hard, still breathing heavily and wondered what on earth could have caused that noise; and then realized, from the lack of sounds of activity from next door, that she wasn’t the only one who’d been - interrupted.

*thump*

There it was again – and oh, crap; she hadn’t been imagining it after all – “Donna!”

She shot up in bed, guiltily. What the..? Josh had given her the night off – and what was he doing back this early anyway?

“Donna!”

She fumbled with her buttons and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, yelling “I’m coming, Joshua, keep your pants on!” – which, given the circumstances, probably wasn’t the smartest thing to have said.

Donna looked at herself in the mirror in the light and shadow cast by the bedside lamp, picked up the scrunchie she’d dropped on the nightstand and hurriedly twisted it into her hair. She was still looking a bit hot and bed-rumpled – although with any luck Josh wouldn’t notice in the gloom or else he’d simply attribute it to her being flushed from sleep.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, she opened the door to see him grinning insanely and rocking on his heels, tuxedo jacket slung carelessly over one shoulder, his other hand stuffed deep into his pocket. He looked so incredibly self-satisfied that she didn’t know whether to cheer or slap him.

“What are you doing here?” she said, trying not to sound as frustrated as she felt.

He pulled her artfully-tied bow-tie carelessly undone and undid the top buttons of his shirt. “Mission accomplished. I went, I schmoozed, I conquered.”

Donna closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the side of the door, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that she was just waiting for the ground to open and swallow her up. “Well, okay, that’s great - but what are you doing here?” she said, opening the door wider and waving her hand to indicate the room behind her.

“I need the notes on the - ” Josh breezed past her and then stopped mid-sentence, clearly taking in her dishevelled appearance. “I’m sorry – were you asleep?”

“Well, if I was,” she grumbled as she closed the door behind him, “I’m not now. So what is it you need?”

Josh strolled farther into the room, dropped his jacket onto a chair and turned to face her, dimples out in full force.

“I have to meet with Leo and the Governor on the way to the airport, so I need to look at the notes on the welfare plan before I turn in.”

Donna folded her arms across her chest – and glancing down, noticed that in her haste, she hadn’t buttoned her top correctly. So she sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped her arms around herself a little more tightly as she answered waspishly, “And you thought I’d have them here?”

Josh didn’t seem to notice the edginess in her tone. “No, but I thought you’d know where they are in the office so I can go over and get them.”

“They’re not at the office - I put them in your backpack this afternoon.”

“Thanks.” He started to turn away– and then stopped, turning to face her instead, his forehead creased into a frown. “Are you alright?”

“Sure.” Donna tried to affect an airy wave while at the same time keeping her arms fairly close to her body, realizing as she did it that she must look rather like a demented duck.

Josh was still looking at her a bit suspiciously, but after a few seconds, his expression cleared and he turned around to locate his discarded jacket.

“Okay,” he said, picking it up. “So, I’ll see you at six for -” he stopped abruptly and frowned, listening.

Oh, yesss …

Donna groaned and slumped forward, her head in her hands as Josh put his jacket down again, a roguish grin now spreading slowly across his face.

“Is that what I think it is?”

Oohhhh…

Donna glanced up at him – and then wished she hadn’t, as she was suddenly and unexpectedly assailed by a series of images flashing through her head… of the two of them; a sweaty tangle of limbs up against the wall, on the desk in his office, in a bed, on the floor, the nearest flat surface – his mouth on hers, his hands on her body, hers on his. She felt herself blush, and forced the pictures from her mind, grateful for the fact that Josh seemed preoccupied staring at the wall and listening to the noises emanating from next door, where things were obviously warming up again.

When he turned back to face her, Donna wished she’d had the presence of mind to be looking at the carpet, or the bedspread – anywhere, in fact, but at Josh himself because she found her gaze transfixed on the definition of his collarbone, exposed against the crispness of his white dress shirt; and she raised her eyes hastily to his, her lips beginning to twitch in response to the mischievous smile that was lighting his face.

Mmmmm…

Yeah…

Oooooh…

“Hey,” he enquired impishly, “how come you got a better room than I did? You’re getting a free show!”

“I – what?” Donna’s voice rose in irritation. “I’ve been stuck here listening to… to,” she stood and gestured towards the adjoining wall, “that for half the night, and you think it’s funny?”

Josh’s smirk widened and was accompanied by a nonchalant shrug. “If it’s not funny, you’re not doing it right.”

Donna forgot about her mis-buttoned top and put her hands on her hips. “You try getting to sleep with all that moaning and groaning and humping coming from the next room!”

She could almost feel his eyes as they traveled up and down her body; then his eyebrows shot up and he snorted - “Humping?” and then went over to kneel on the bed and rest his ear against the wall.

“Josh!” Donna followed, tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth in order to stop herself from giving into the temptation to stamp her foot.

“What?” He turned an unconvincingly innocent look on her as the thumping and groaning from next door escalated in volume and tempo. “It’s not as though they care, is it? I mean, if they were really worried about anyone listening, they wouldn’t be… um… you know.”

Donna slapped his arm. “You pervert.”

“Hey – I’ve had a hard night.”

She couldn’t help herself. “Not as hard as some people, apparently.”

Josh’s jaw dropped – and then he grinned at her, smugly. “And you have the temerity to call me a pervert?”

“You’re the one with your ear against the wall listening to them!”

“And just what are you doing, Miss prim-and-proper?”

“I’m - ” Donna began, and then realised that she was, in fact, kneeling on the bed opposite Josh, her position an almost mirror image of his – and she pulled back abruptly, her eyes fixed on his profile as he continued to smirk at the wall. She rested back on her heels and folded her arms across her chest. “I’m waiting for them to get it over with so I can go to sleep.”

“’Get it over with’? How romantic.”

Donna snorted. “Yeah, well you wouldn’t think it was romantic either if you were suffering from sleep-deprivation.”

The thumping and squeaking sped-up. “Sleep-deprivation’s just a little strong, don’t you think?”

“I don’t care,” Donna wailed desperately, raising her voice above the escalating noise. “I just want to go to sl- ”

Josh held up his hands, his voice raised, too. “Hey – it’s not my- ”

Neither of them finished what they’d been about to say, as a truly – unusual – sound suddenly ripped from the throat of the woman (at least Donna hoped it was the woman) in the next room.

Josh blinked, his expression one of disbelief. “Was that… a howl?”

“What?”

“That – her… you know. I’ve never heard anything like –”

Donna raised a sceptical eyebrow and Josh continued hastily, “Oh, uh – I’ve made a few of ‘em scream in my time, but I don’t think I’ve had any howlers.”

“Howlers? Gee,” Donna rolled her eyes, “that’s a flattering description.”

Josh glanced at her. “In fact,” he sniffed, scratching the back of his head and then leaning his elbow against the wall, “I don’t think it’s possible to make a woman actually howl like that.”

“You just said you’d never had – and I quote – ‘any howlers’, so how would you know?”

He raised an eyebrow and looked smug. “Oh, I know. She was faking it.”

“Oh? Just because you’ve never made a woman howl, it can’t be done?”

“I - ”

Donna shuffled herself off the edge of the bed and moved to stand at the foot. “Oh, I get it. Your masculinity is threatened.”

“What?”

“That guy,” Donna pointed towards the wall while trying hard to stifle a grin at Josh’s indignant expression, “made a woman – make a nose like that -” she flapped her hand, abstractedly “- and you just told me you never had, so clearly, you must be feeling a little inferior right now.”

Josh bridled and pushed himself upright, still kneeling on the bed. “She was faking.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“How can you tell?”

“Oh come on, it’s obvious.”

Donna huffed in annoyance. And – if she was honest – frustration. Not fifteen minutes ago, she’d been telling herself that he really had to get over her stupid crush on her boss - and now here he was, looking utterly delectable with his undone bow-tie draped loosely about his collar, his hair a little wild from where he’d been running his fingers through it (which immediately made Donna want to do the same), that knee-weakening smile … and if all that wasn’t bad enough, his comments had just forged an unbreakable connection in her sex-starved brain between the words “Josh” and “bed”.

And she couldn’t have him.

Okay, so maybe she was more than a little bit frustrated.

“No, it’s not,” she continued, acerbically, cocking her hip. “So come on, Lover-Boy, tell me. How can you tell if a woman’s faking it?”

“It’s - ” Josh did a double take and narrowed his eyes at her. “Did you just call - ?” Then he clearly thought better of whatever he’d been about to say and scrubbed a hand over his face.

“I… guys can,” he spluttered, gesticulating frantically. “I mean, you just – it’s -” He stopped, pursed his lips and frowned as Donna tilted her head to the side and eyed him impassively.

“Uh - not that I’ve ever had to,” he blustered hastily, “you know, work out if a woman was… because I always – uh – that is…”

Despite her annoyance, Donna nonetheless had to work hard to suppress a smile. “Oh, no, of course not. Women you’ve been with have never faked it.”

Josh grinned cockily. “They’ve never had to.”

“You sure?” Donna asked casually, doing her best to ignore the things his smile and those dimples were doing to the pit of her stomach.

“’Course I’m sure.”

She sighed. “Okay.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means okay, is what it means,” she shrugged, suddenly deflated as she told herself that this wasn’t perhaps the best direction for the conversation to be taking, considering her earlier… activities and preoccupation. “Can I go back to bed now? I’m tired; I’ve been trying to get to sleep for ages and – ”

Josh frowned, concernedly. “Yeah.” And then his eyes began to twinkle again. “No – wait. This is just like that movie.”

“What movie?”

“You know; the one where Meg Ryan fakes an orgasm in a diner.”

Donna put a hand to her forehead and sighed. “No, Josh,” she said, as if humouring a small child, “it’s nothing like that movie; we’re not in a diner, nor am I about to fake an orgasm.”

Although I was about to have one before you showed up…

Josh sniffed. “Pity.”

“What?”

“I just thought you could get back at ‘em.”

“Get back at them?” she repeated flatly.

“Yeah. When they’ve finished, we can keep them awake!”

“Josh!!”

Josh practically jumped at Donna’s indignant squeak. “What? I didn’t - ” which was as far as he got before he lost his balance and tumbled backwards onto the floor.

“Josh!” Donna cried again, bouncing onto the bed on her knees and hurriedly scrambling over to the edge on all fours. “You okay?”

He was just lying there, staring bemusedly up at the ceiling. “Uh…” and then his eyes widened, and Donna was sure she could see a slight flush appear on his cheeks. “Um… Donna?”

“Huh?”

Josh raised his eyebrows pointedly – and Donna dipped her head, only to realise that from her position on all fours, peering over the edge of the bed, her pajama top was gaping open giving Josh a pretty good view of her breasts.

She jerked up her head hastily, and clutched at the fabric with one hand. “Oh, God, I’m - ”

Josh propped himself up on his elbows and grinned at her. “Donna - you have absolutely nothing to apologize for.”

She felt herself blush from head to toe at his frank admiration – and beat a hasty retreat, scrabbling backwards on her hands and knees until she reached the other side of the bed. She stood and turned her back, quickly undoing and re-buttoning her top, the heat of embarrassment still flooding her cheeks.

She put a hand to her face and pushed a few errant strands of hair out of her eyes, all the while trying to quell the mortification that was tugging at the pit of her stomach. She heard some shuffling and scraping coming from the other side of the room as Josh got to his feet - and then became aware again of the noises that were still coming from the next room; the increased speed of the squeaking and thumping of the bed and the greater frequency of the low grunts and the higher-pitched moans –

Oh! God… just… oh – there! Yes!

“Donna,” Josh’s voice, coming from just behind her caused her to start. She said nothing, suddenly overwhelmingly conscious of him, of his presence as he stood unmoving behind her. She felt the hairs prickling on the back of her neck, felt her breathing speed up; and began to berate herself silently for allowing this man to affect her so much. But this… this sense of him was something she couldn’t shake, something she’d never before felt with any man – friend or lover.

He cleared his throat. “I – uh…”

Donna took a deep breath and turned to face him, schooling her features into as blank an expression as possible while studiously avoiding his gaze.

“Yeah.”

Josh jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “I’d better…” he said, a little hoarsely.

She nodded, once. “Okay,” only dimly conscious of the moaning and wailing coming from next door reaching a peak over the sound of the pounding of her own heart and the rush of blood pumping through her ears.

And then – an ensuing silence that was almost deafening.

Josh hadn’t moved; and neither had she. Donna had no idea how long they stood there, the air between them weighing heavy, making it hard for her to breathe. Somehow – and she couldn’t say how - she knew he was looking at her; and try as she might, she eventually found the pull of his gaze impossible to resist.

Slowly, Donna looked up – her breath catching in her throat when her eyes finally met his. The expression on his face was one she’d never seen before; she saw heat flash in his eyes as he looked at her intently, felt a corresponding warmth settle between her legs… she couldn’t move, couldn’t think - for once, couldn’t break eye contact as waves of heat and arousal coursed through her body. She swallowed, licked her lips; watched his gaze flicker and drop to her mouth. She wasn’t conscious of having stepped towards him – or of his moving toward her, but next thing Donna knew, they were standing all but toe-to-toe, close enough for her to be able to feel his body heat, to smell him - to touch him if she wanted to.

And God, she wanted to.

As Josh raised his eyes to hers once more, Donna felt his hand come to rest lightly on her hip, his thumb rubbing gently up and down. That simple motion was soothing, almost hypnotic; although it did nothing to quell the frantic flight of the butterflies that had invaded the pit of her stomach. Even through the thin cotton of her pajamas, that light touch was enough to make her skin tingle with anticipation - and the look he was giving her seemed to be doing strange things to her legs, because she was beginning to feel distinctly unsteady on her feet. Then the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly and she couldn’t help but drop her gaze to his mouth, which had quirked into an almost shy half-smile – and she was lost.

“Josh,” she whispered as he cupped her cheek in one hand before sliding his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck.

“Don’t say anything,” he said huskily, pulling her in close, his arm warm and firm around her waist. His eyes were again trained on her mouth, his lips an inch from hers. Head spinning, breathing ragged, she slid her hands slowly up his chest, until she could slide her fingers under his collar, wondering, through the haze of arousal in her head, whether Josh was able to feel the way her heart was hammering, so tightly was she pressed against him. Neither of them moved for a second or two until, breathless with anticipation, she leaned in tentatively - which seemed to be all the encouragement Josh needed to meet her half-way. His mouth captured hers in a hungry kiss and she responded eagerly, passionately, moaning when she felt his tongue flicking across her bottom lip. She opened her mouth to him, sliding her tongue eagerly against his, feeling a shiver dart through her when she heard him make a small, impassioned sound at the back of his throat.

Breaking apart only long enough to suck in air, they kissed again, harder, deeper, tongues tangling, breath mingling. Donna felt the warmth of Josh’s palm caressing the bare skin of her back under her top and pulled back just slightly so that she could begin to unbutton his shirt. He moved his lips to her neck and began to place hot, open-mouthed kisses up and down the column of her throat as his hand moved down to rest on her ass, exerting a firm pressure to keep her pressed intimately against him.

She realized that her hands were shaking as she fumbled with the buttons; but she managed to undo enough of them to enable her to push the fabric to one side and discover that he wasn’t wearing an undershirt. She felt him start as her hand made contact with his chest, warm, smooth and – God – so firm, taut muscle under soft flesh.

His breath warmed her skin as he exhaled at her touch - “God, Donna,” – and she shuddered as his tongue flicked against the sensitive spot just beneath her ear. She moaned softly and was vaguely aware of being gently propelled backwards as she undid the remaining buttons on his shirt and pulled it from his pants.

As her back made contact with the wall, Josh’s mouth took hers again, his kiss insistent and demanding. He skimmed his hand lightly up and down her side under her top, causing her to gasp against his lips, her body tightening involuntarily as his caresses reached her breast. He cupped her sensitive flesh, his thumb brushing her nipple and she clutched at his biceps for support, her knees having turned to jelly. Her head was spinning – whether as a result of the sensations Josh was arousing in her or because the rate at which she was breathing was causing her to become perilously light-headed, she didn’t know – and didn’t really care.

She could feel the length of his erection through the thin cotton of her pajamas, feel the dampness between her thighs growing as heat pulsed throughout her body. The small part of her mind that was still able to function rationally wondered just what the hell they were doing - but the rest of her knew exactly what they were doing and had already decided not to ask awkward questions and just enjoy it.

But that small voice at the back of her mind wasn’t going to go away. Dammit.

With difficulty, she pulled her lips from his. “Josh,” she swallowed hard, and fought to control her breathing. “Is this a good idea?”

Josh appeared to consider her question for a split second, and then moved his mouth to the side of her neck. “Absolutely,” he drawled lazily. “It’s a very good idea.”

She allowed her head to fall back, giving him greater access to her throat. “No – I meant…” she sighed raggedly, “maybe we shouldn’t be doing this…”

“Why not?” Josh was trailing kisses across her cheek, his other hand now at the buttons of her top.

“I – you’re my,” she shuddered as his lips found her ear and he began to tease the lobe with his teeth “ – and I don’t sleep with just anyone on… on a whim.”

He kissed her temple - “Neither do I,” – her eyelids - “And in any case,” – her cheek –“I’m not just anyone,” – the corner of her mouth. “And neither are you. And - ” he grazed her lips with his, “it’s not a whim.”

Donna moaned softly as Josh brushed the backs of his knuckles across her cheek. “It’s not?”

“No.”

“You mean..?”

“I think about you,” he offered seconds later, his lips so close to hers as to be almost touching. “Like this. I - I think about you – about us, I mean. Like this.” Donna couldn’t help but smile at his honest admission – and at the bashful way in which he said it.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He pulled back to look at her. “Let’s just say that I have a...” he smirked, all confidence, suddenly, “hard time concentrating on work when you’re around.”

Donna snorted – then looked at his mouth and leaned in to nip playfully at his bottom lip – which immediately began to curve into a lazy smile.

Wrapping her arms closely about his neck, she slid the fingers of one hand into the thick hair at his nape and brought her lips to his ear.

“I think about you, too,” she whispered, feeling him shudder as she brushed his calf with the top of her foot. “Like this.”

Josh dropped his forehead to rest at the crook of her neck. “Thank God,” he sighed heavily as he leaned into her, pressing her firmly against the wall once more. Donna immediately wrapped one leg around his hip and moaned when she felt his hand caressing her thigh and inching up under the hem of her shorts. Turning her head, Donna flicked her tongue over the top of Josh’s ear, delighted when she heard him emit a guttural groan in response. Gripping his shoulders tightly, she pushed her pelvis against his hand, encouraging his exploration. He lifted his head so that he could kiss her again and lightly brushed the curls between her legs, sliding a finger along her already slippery folds. Donna moaned softly, a shiver running through her as he stroked his thumb over her clit a couple of times before his hand moved slowly back to her thigh. Sparks arced in her head, her sex ached with need… she felt almost feverishly hot as she wrapped her arms more tightly around Josh’s neck and pulled him even closer. The feeling of his hard, firm body pressing against hers from chest to thigh was exhilarating; she rubbed herself against the hard length of his erection, searching for the right angle, the right amount friction which would release her from this almost unbearable state of wanting.

Her mouth still fused passionately to his, Donna pulled off her pajama top and let it drop to the floor before pushing Josh’s shirt from his shoulders, wanting desperately to feel his skin against hers. But he didn’t let her finish removing the garment; instead, he pulled back and looked her up and down, his rapt gaze alighting on the sight of his hand fondling her bare breast. She heard her breathing catch, looked down at the rapid rise and fall of her chest, watching Josh’s eyes travel from her breasts to her collarbone, her neck and finally to her lips, as intently as if he were trying to imprint her image in his mind. Eventually, he lifted his gaze to hers, and Donna couldn’t help the tremor that ran through her at the desire she could see in his dark, expressive eyes. Slowly, he bent his head to her breast; and, her eyelids fluttering shut, Donna let her head fall back against the wall, a low pitched moan escaping her lips as he kissed his way down to her taut nipple. She felt him run his tongue around her aureole before he closed his mouth over the tightened nub, licking and sucking, flicking at it with his tongue, grazing it with his teeth. She tightened her grip on his shoulders and arched towards him, wanting, needing more. Josh pushed at the waistband of her shorts, working them over her hips and as far down her legs as he could; then she wriggled the rest of the way out of them and kicked them off, returning her hands immediately to his chest, sliding her palms greedily over his skin, down to the waistband of his pants – and to the bulge below.

“Josh,” she half-moaned, her lips against his throat as she unzipped his fly so that she could slide her hand inside his boxers. She curled her fingers around his thick, hot length and began to stroke him, relishing the feel of the smooth, velvety flesh encasing the rigid hardness beneath. His only answer was an incoherent groan as she ran her thumb along the ridge on the underside and over the slit at the top a couple of times, spreading the sticky droplets over the head of his cock before sheathing him in her grip once more.

He covered her mouth with his, his tongue pushing past her lips to tangle immediately with hers; still teasing her nipples with his thumbs and forefingers, he began to make small thrusting motions against her hand with his hips. She squeezed his cock lightly and began to lengthen her strokes, the impassioned sounds he was making becoming louder and almost unbearably erotic.

His hand slid to the back of her thigh once more and in response to his unspoken request, Donna lifted her leg and wrapped it around his hip. His long, supple fingers caressed her skin, moving higher with each stroke until he was again exploring the sensitive flesh between her legs. She whimpered into his mouth, returning his kiss with increasing urgency, the ferocity of her want - her need to have him moving inside her utterly overwhelming. As if he could read her mind, Josh stilled her caresses and moving her hand away, pulled his cock free of his pants and shorts, positioning himself so that the tip teased the entrance to her body. Leaning back from the kiss, Josh fixed her gaze with his, his eyes dark, glittering with desire in the half-light. He took both of her hands in his and moved them above her head and against the wall, clasping her wrists loosely together in one of his.

“Josh,” she murmured again, entreaty evident in her voice. “Please, I - ”

She could feel him pressing against her hot, swollen flesh, even as he voiced a breathless, half-hearted protest. “I’m a little overdressed, don’t you think?”

“I don’t care,” Donna whispered. “I just… want you. Inside me. Now.”

He exhaled harshly, dipping his head to place a couple of open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone. “You sure?”

She swallowed hard, the thought of his taking her while she was naked and he was fully clothed turning her on more than she’d ever thought possible. “God, yes.”

Keeping her arms raised above her head, his eyes still fixed on hers, Josh pushed slowly up into her slick heat. Donna closed her eyes and whimpered when he withdrew almost all the way before he thrust up, hard, and rammed himself home. Blindly, she sought his mouth again and he released her wrists, sliding his palms down her body until they rested under the curve of her buttocks. She lifted her legs in response, locked them around Josh’s hips and he started to move; quick, shallow thrusts that created a delicious friction against her clit. Breaking the kiss, Donna leaned her cheek against his ear and grazed the top with her teeth and tongue… she felt him groan into the sensitive skin at the base of her throat, his mouth leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses up her neck. She slid her hands to grip his biceps; rigid, tightly corded muscle, tense with exertion under warm, sweat-glazed skin.

She was panting hard, moaning, whimpering; she heard herself begging for more – more what, she didn’t know – all she knew was that she wanted more of this, more of him, more of the way he made her feel when she was with him.

“Donna,” he ground out, his lips at her throat. “Oh, God...”

Josh increased the speed and force of his thrusts, the new tempo reflected in his harsh, labored breathing and in her own wordless cries; her fingers twined into the now damp hair at the base of his neck, her nose caught the faint, spicy note of his cologne – so familiar, yet slightly different, somehow … the scent of them, she realised with satisfaction.

The tension mounting in the pit of her stomach was like a coiled spring winding tighter and tighter so as to be all but unbearable. Donna began to thrust her hips into Josh’s with greater urgency as his lips found hers again, his tongue plundering her mouth, his desperation clearly matching her own. His hands still cupped her ass, his fingers digging, unnoticed, into her flesh – her head was spinning, her breath coming in gasps and moans, blood pounding in her head so loudly that she thought it must be clearly audible… and then she couldn’t think at all. Josh’s hips worked faster and faster against hers, waves of heat flooded her body as she reached the point of no return – his name on her lips as she all but exploded, spasming around him as he continued to pump up into her. The strength of her muscles gripping his cock forced him to stop moving for a second or two – then, as the last of her contractions stroked him, he thrust up into her hard and fast, his release accompanied by a roar of completion.

Josh slumped forward, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “Donna…”

She gulped in air, rested her head against the wall and ran her fingers through his hair, the buzzing in her ears drowning out every other sound – even though she knew they must both be panting like they’d just run a marathon.

“God, Josh…” she gasped eventually as she lowered one leg and let her foot come to rest on the floor.

Josh didn’t reply immediately. His forehead still rested in the crook of her neck and Donna could feel the frantic beating of his heart, his chest rising and falling rapidly against hers as he loosened his hold on her. “Well,” he panted, his breath hot on her skin. ”That was…”

“Unexpected?”

She felt him smile. “That, too.”

They stood like that a little longer – Donna beginning to realise what an incongruous picture they made – her completely naked, Josh with his shirt pushed down to his elbows and his tuxedo pants hanging loosely about his hips.

Finally, they had to move. Josh unwound one of his arms from her waist and used it to prop himself against the wall, taking most of his weight as he pulled out of her.

“I’d better – God, I need a shower,” he mumbled as he hitched up his pants – and Donna froze. All the reasons they shouldn’t have done this came crashing back down, as did all her old insecurities – and it hit her like a cold shower that she didn’t have a clue what to do next. One night stands weren’t really her thing and… was there some sort of etiquette she should be following? Was she supposed to act cool and get dressed – A shower? Sure, help yourself. I’m going to sleep, just turn out the light when you’re done and don’t forget to shut the door on your way out?

Surely not.

“Donna.”

Her head jerked up – and she instinctively put an arm across her breasts. “Huh?”

Josh’s head was quirked to one side and he was giving her that look of his that somehow mingled exasperation and indulgence. “You – uh, kinda disappeared back there.”

“Wha-?” She blinked at him in confusion, feeling suddenly and ridiculously exposed. She bent to retrieve her pajamas from the floor and was trying to figure out whether to put them on or just hold them against her nakedness until she could work out what the hell was going on, before she realised that Josh had taken advantage of her earlier distraction to strip down to his boxers.

She stared. Despite all her repeated imaginings of him over the past few months, Donna hadn’t expected him to be quite so…

Wow.

… gorgeous – more than she’d even been able to envision . Lean, well muscled, but not overly so, perfect ass, broad shoulders - and the definition of his thighs wouldn’t have looked out of place on a Greek statue.

A tender smile on his face, Josh reached out to remove the thoroughly creased pajamas from her grasp. “Don’t hide. It’s like I said before,” he said, the corners of his mouth quirking up impishly, “you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Neither do you, she said to herself – and aloud; “It’s not that, I just – “

He silenced her by putting a finger to her lips. “You must know you’re beautiful,” he said simply.

Donna felt her insides do a little flip at the sincerity in his voice and on his face and came to a decision. So what if this turned out to be a one-time thing, two overworked colleagues blowing off some steam? It wasn’t her style, true, but then she’d done a few things that ‘weren’t her style’ over the past few months and so far, things were going okay.

It is what it is.

She took a metaphorical deep breath and smiled.

Josh grinned back - then balled-up the pajamas and flung them in the general direction of the bed.

By the time Donna had finished rolling her eyes, he’d turned to head across into the bathroom, and she took advantage of that fact to have a good look at what she’d only been able to touch earlier. She stared at his back, fascinated by the way the dim light in the room played across the muscles in his shoulders as he rolled them to work out the kinks he’d probably acquired holding her up.

“You coming?” He was still grinning at her as he turned and bent to pull off his boxers.

Donna’s mouth went suddenly dry and she couldn’t help it – she very obviously and lasciviously looked him up and down. “I just did.”

Josh snorted and held out his hand. “Come on.”

Continued in part two

FF: Wrapped in Thoughtfulness, Tied with Love (PG)

Tue, 30 Dec 2008 16:21:34 GMT

Flirting with Disaster (G)

Thu, 18 Dec 2008 17:58:58 GMT

Disclaimers: I own nothing, I’m making nothing… these characters were created by Aaron Sorkin and belong to Sorkin, Shoe Money Productions and NBC. I’m just taking them out for a spin and will return when I’ve finished with them. Although I might have to hang on to Danny for a while…

Being anally retentive about that sort of thing, I proofed it myself, so any mistakes are mine!

Category: Post-ep for 1.17, The Disaster Show.

Originally posted 28 July 2007

Spoilers: Up to 1.19, K&R Part II.

A/N: Our heroes were absent from this episode, but I couldn’t help thinking that after the show, they’d have had something to say about the events that unfolded while they were dealing with the wildcat strike by the prop guys.

Thanks to coloneljack for the quick beta.

Flirting with Disaster

“It was a disaster.”

“No - it wasn’t.”

“It really was. A complete disaster.”

“It wasn’t that bad. C’mon - ”

“It wasn’t that bad? How can you -? Actually, how can you say that – you spent the night in the parking lot with a bunch of angry prop guys while I sat backstage for most of it writing lines on the palms of people’s hands because the cue card guys walked out! It was exactly that bad!”

“It wasn’t. And they weren’t that angry.”

“No? ‘You’re just prop guys, you’re easily replaceable’ - and they weren’t that angry?”

“See, what I actually meant was - ”

“They were out for a lynchin’ my friend.”

“Well, as you can see from the fact I’m, you know, standing here, there wasn’t one.”

“Maybe, but you realize you’ll be looking over your shoulder from now until the end of the season, right?”

“Huh?”

“They’ll crazy-glue your phone or re-hang your office door, saw through the legs on your sofa, stuff like that.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, you can think what you want, but I don’t think I’ll be visiting your office for a while, is all I’m sayin’.”

“Thanks for the show of solidarity.”

“No problem.”

“You coming to the party?”

“Later. I need to look at the… Danny, it was a terrible show.”

“It was not.”

“You’ve seen the tape?”

“Not yet – but I hear things.”

“What things?”

“That it wasn’t as bad as you think; c’mon, let’s go. You can dissect it later.”

“It wasn’t as bad as I think.”

“No.”

“Allison Janney exploded on the sofa, and it wasn’t as bad as I think?”

“Matt – these things happen. You know there’s a show every so often where a few things go wrong, so stop obsessing about it and - ”

“A few things?”

“Wait – what? She exploded?”

“Yeah.”

“What the hell..?”

“It was the squibs that were supposed to go off in the mob sketch; they didn’t, she left them on and they went off in the James Bond thing.”

“Ah.”

“Yes.”

“That was probably -”

“- it was.”

“And she was probably -”

“- she was.”

“Okay. So maybe it was more than a few things.”

“You think? But hey, look on the bright side - at least I didn’t get called an idiot on national television.”

“What?”

“During the goodnights. Allison blamed you for everything and called you an idiot.”

“She what?”

“I mean, Cal turned her mic off, but it’s on the tape. It’s pretty funny.”

“I guess that was predictable. Last time she was on, she called me an elitist, Ivy-League educated, fascist jackass, so a simple ‘idiot’ is a step up, don’t you think?”

“That’s your idea of a step up? ”

“Hm. Maybe not.”

“So – what did Jordan think of the show tonight?

“She didn’t see all of it.”

“Oh?”

“No – she wasn’t feeling too good; said she had a headache.”

“She okay?”

“Yeah. She went home.”

“Your home, home, or her home, home?”

“What does it -? Her home, home.”

“You’re really going to have to do something about your living arrangements. I don’t think the range of those baby monitor things is more than about fifty feet - unless you’re getting one from the CIA.”

“Give me a break, would you? We just… haven’t got that far yet.”

“Considering you did everything else at breakneck speed, I have to admit that’s - surprising.”

“You’ve never even lived with a woman and yet you’re heckling me about this?”

“Somebody has to.”

“And you think that should be you?”

“I was the most suitable candidate for the job.”

“In the absence of any other applicants.”

“Pretty much.”

“I think I can manage this one on my own.”

“Evidence would suggest otherwise.”

“I’m – Matt, I’ll get there, okay? Look –"

“You know you’ve got a deadline on this one, right?”

“I do know that, yes – I -”

“Just as long as you’re clear on that.”

“I’m clear. Matt -”

“I mean, before you know it, the baby’ll be here and - wow. Is that -?”

“An engagement ring? Yes.”

“It’s not for me, right?

“You’re my fall back option.”

“Always the bridesmaid…”

“There’s still time.”

“You know how I hate being second best.”

“You’ll just have to live with it.”

“Somehow, I’ll cope with the disappointment. But really – you’re going to ask her?”

“I am.”

“That’s great!”

“Well, she hasn’t said yes, yet.”

“She will.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah.”

“And you know this because?”

“I’d say yes if you asked me.”

“This is you trying to make up for the lack of solidarity thing before, isn’t it?”

“How ‘m I doin’ so far?”

“Not all that well.”

“Go figure.”

“But you’ll stand up with me, right?”

“I’ll do better than that.”

“Better than that?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“I’ll help you with the proposal.”

“You’ll… help with the - ?”

“I mean, you gotta do it right - ”

“Matty - ”

“You have to plan these things - ”

“How the hell would you know?”

“Right time, right place, set the mood - ”

“Matt!”

“What?”

“Thanks for the offer - ”

“I’m serious. This is the big one, you can’t afford any mistakes.”

“- and for the vote of confidence.”

“Any time, partner.”

“But it’ll be fine.”

“Okay.”

“It will.”

“Okay.”

“Matt, I’ll be fine.”

“Sure. I can see it now. Romantic candlelit dinner, you on one knee…”

“Oh, God.”

“What? You’ve done it before.”

“Not like that, I haven’t.”

“All the years I’ve known you and I never had you pegged for a cheap date.”

“All the years I’ve known you and I never had you pegged as the next Nora Roberts.”

“Do you want my help or not?”

“I very much do not.”

“Well, this is your lucky day, ‘cause I’m making an executive decision.”

“Oh, God… An executive decision to do what?”

“To help you out.”

“Matt, I really - ”

“I’ll write your proposal.”

“You’ll - what?”

“Your proposal. I’ll write it.”

“You’re Cyrano de Bergerac now?”

“Is that your way of telling me I’ve got a big nose?”

“Matt - ”

“No. This is the last time you’re going to do this - so you’ve got to do it right.”

“Okay – the last time I took relationship advice from you?”

“Yeah?”

“I ended up apologizing my ass off and got stuck on a roof while we had ‘The Jungle Book’ playing out under the stage.”

“Clearly, you’ve never seen ‘The Jungle Book’.”

“Whatever – but you see my point?”

“Actually, no – because as I recall, getting stuck on the roof turned out to be a good thing for you and I really think it’s about time you thanked me for my part in that.”

“You had a part in that?”

“You just said I did.”

“And your part was?”

“Not talking you out of doing something stupid.”

“You could have told me it was stupid at the time!”

“I didn’t think it was stupid – at the time.”

“But now you do?”

“With hindsight, and mature reflection, I now concede it may have been…”

“Stupid?”

“Pretty stupid, yeah.”

“And I suppose that hindsight and reflection wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Harriet threatened to beat you senseless with a head of cabbage when she found out?”

“Nope.”

“Matt.”

“Well, she can be pretty dangerous with raw vegetables – and how did you know about that?”

“According to you, I’m a Machiavellian control freak who has eyes and ears all over the building.”

“Ah. Jeannie.”

“No - yelling. Harriet’s voice carries.”

“Well, despite the fact that you’re not the slightest bit concerned for my welfare, I am, nonetheless, going to help you out.”

“Oh. Must you?”

“I must. I would be forsaking my duty as your friend and Best Man if I let you go through this alone.”

“Let me go through this..? Matt, I’m asking Jordan to marry me, not scale the north face of the Eiger.”

“The two aren’t that different.”

“Marriage and… mountaineering?”

“They both start with an ‘M’.”

“And there, the similarity ends.”

“I don’t know… some would say marriage can be an uphill struggle, fraught with danger, with huge potential for missteps, having to bridge chasms of understanding…”

“Remind me again what it is we pay you for?”

“- trying not to fall into gulfs of - ”

“Matt?”

“What?”

“If that’s your idea of helping me - you’re not doing a very good job.”

“I’ll just stick to the proposal, then.”

“I think that would be safest for all concerned, yes.”

“I’ll write you in some mountaineering references if you like.”

“I don’t – just… whatever makes you happy.”

“Okay then.”

“Okay. So. You want to look at this tape?”

“Yeah. You wanna sit here and hide from Allison Janney?”

“For the love of… I am not hiding from Allison Janney.”

“You sure? She can be pretty scary.”

“I’m not –"

“ – and she’s freakishly tall.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“And you know, I think she’s got a thing for Cal.”

“I’m in hell…”

“I’m just sayin’ – last time I saw her she was practically in his lap, but then I think she was pretty drunk.”

“Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and watch the tape.”

End.

Food for Thought (G)

Thu, 18 Dec 2008 17:57:49 GMT

Disclaimers: I own nothing, I’m making nothing… these characters were created by Aaron Sorkin and belong to Sorkin, Shoe Money Productions and NBC. I’m just taking them out for a spin and will return when I’ve finished with them.

Being anally retentive about that sort of thing, I proofed it myself, so any mistakes are mine!

Category: Jordan and Harriet indulge in a bit of girl-talk. Post-ep for Monday.

Spoilers: Up to 1.14, The Harriet Dinner pt. II

Originally posted 15 April 2007

As many of you know, I still have issues with the speed of Jordan’s turn around about Danny in The Harriet Dinner II. Not that I blame her in the slightest, of course – I mean, who wouldn’t be crazy about him? So here's my take on what might have been going on in her head between Monday and The Harriet Dinner.

Thanks as ever to coloneljack and salr323 for their valuable input and suggestions, and to zinke for her encouragement.

Food for Thought

Jordan groaned softly and leaned her head on one hand. She’d been trying to read Hallie’s proposal for over an hour, and it just wouldn’t stick. With a sigh, she turned back to the beginning, even though she knew it would probably be a futile effort because, try as she might - she couldn’t concentrate. She supposed she could put it down to her hormones - she’d read that it wasn’t uncommon for pregnant women to have memory lapses or trouble concentrating, but she knew it wasn’t that. She’d been fine until –

A knock from outside brought her head up with a start. “Yeah?”

Harriet popped her head around the door. “Hey. Kevin said you were free.” She walked in, carrying, Jordan was relieved to see, what looked like lunch for four.

“I brought food.”

“So I see.”

“You said you didn’t want to run into - uh, come over to the -”

“Yeah.” Jordan sighed again, closing the folder she’d been staring at ineffectually and started to stack books and folders to make some room on the desk.

“So here I am,” Harriet continued brightly, putting down an assortment of cartons and bags in the hurriedly cleared space.

Jordan reached immediately for one of the bags. “God,” she looked quickly between a carton of pasta salad and a sandwich – and decided she was hungry enough to tackle them both, “I had no idea it was possible to eat like this. If I don’t slow down soon, I’ll still look pregnant after I’ve had the baby!”

“So you’re eating for two.” Harriet shrugged and leaned over to pick up her salad and a bottle of water, watching as Jordan crammed a forkful of pasta into her mouth. “Okay, so maybe it’s more than two,” she muttered, picking up a napkin. “All set for tomorrow night?”

“… think so,” Jordan mumbled, around her mouthful of food.

“I really appreciate your doing this at such short notice. I mean, I thought that maybe Matt would…”

Jordan waved her fork around as she swallowed. “It’s no problem, really. It was sweet of you to ask me.”

They ate in silence for a minute or two, Harriet sneaking surreptitious glances across the desk every so often as Jordan rummaged around in another bag and brought out a box of donuts and some juice. They hadn’t seen each other since lunch on Monday, which wasn’t unusual – Jordan was responsible for overseeing a number of shows and couldn’t be everywhere at once – but Harriet knew why it was that Jordan hadn’t been over to the theatre. Or at least why she wanted to avoid meeting Danny.

The sound of Jordan’s voice jerked her out of her reverie. “Do you want to go over there together? We could meet here or -”

“I’m sorry – what?”

Jordan looked up from the roast-beef on rye she’d been about to bite into. “I asked if you wanted to go over to the thing together.”

“Oh.” Harriet nodded, absently. “Yeah. That’d be good. I’m on set until about six, then I have to get back to change, so it’s going to be tight – can you come over around seven?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.” Glancing up at Jordan’s tight smile, Harriet realized she’d made a mistake and started to backtrack hastily. “No – I mean - I can come here if -”

Jordan waved a hand. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Harriet decided not to pursue the matter. She and Jordan had become good friends over the past few weeks, but they were a long way from being bosom buddies. If Jordan wanted to talk about it, then Harriet would listen, but she wasn’t going to dig too deep if she could help it. Whatever was – or wasn’t – going on between Jordan and Danny was really none of her business and, God knew, she had enough problems of her own to deal with. “Okay.”

“So - ” Jordan brushed some crumbs off her lap. “You bringing a date?”

Harriet chuckled softly. “Two, actually.”

“You go, girl!” Jordan’s eyes widened. “Although I think that’s a bit unfair – after all, here am I, dateless and you’ve got two guys in tow.”

Harriet shook her head. “Well, you don’t have to be dateless; you -” Off the look that flashed across Jordan’s face, she started again. “I guess I could share. You know I put that thing on the internet? To raise money for Women United Through Faith - I auctioned off the chance to be my date tomorrow night.”

Jordan paused, another forkful of pasta halfway to her mouth. “You did that for them – after the gay marriage thing?”

“Yeah.” Harriet looked a little subdued. “I know. It’s just – I owe them a lot, you know? They helped me when I needed it most, and I can never forget that – I don’t want to forget it.” She sighed. “Anyway, we’re okay now.”

“I’m glad,” Jordan said softly. “I didn’t mean to – I wasn’t judging you; I just thought that maybe, after… I’m glad you worked it out.”

Harriet picked at her salad for a minute before continuing. “So anyway, as it turns out, two guys bid over five thousand dollars each for the chance to be my date, which I thought was getting a bit silly – so I closed the bidding and said they could both come with me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. So how about, when we get there, we check out LukeS5858 and BossSexy and take one each?”

“BossSexy? You’re kidding me, right?”

Harriet grinned. “Nope. But I get first pick.”

Jordan grinned back. “Okay, done. But if mine has a limp or a glass eye, I’m outta there!”

Harriet laughed - and they carried on eating their lunch. But something she’d said earlier – or rather the way she’d said it, had piqued Jordan’s curiosity. Harriet had tried to hide it, but she’d sounded somewhat forlorn when she’d expressed the hope that Matt might have been the one to present her award at the dinner Thursday night; and no matter how many times Jordan told herself it was none of her business, she couldn’t help but wonder what was going on. Perhaps there was something she could do to help. Or at the very least, if Harriet wanted to talk, it might give Jordan a break from dwelling on her own ‘man troubles’. Wincing inwardly at how selfish that sounded, she picked up a bottle of water and twisted off the cap, hoping she looked as though she was doing it as casually as possible.

“So, these two dates.”

“Hm?”

“You didn’t want to go with Matt?”

Harriet’s head shot up, defensively.

Way to go, Jordan, she thought to herself. Very subtle.

“Well, I - no.”

“So – things are ..?”

Harriet sighed and shook her head, her eyes fixed on a point somewhere over Jordan’s shoulder. “They’re… I don’t know. It’s like we’re in this weird holding pattern. We broke up, but we see each other every day – it’s like we’re together only we’re not.”

“You know that made no sense, right?”

“This whole thing makes no sense.” She reached for her bottle of water and took a drink. “Matt’s playing some kind of game right now, and I’m tired of it, Jordan. He doesn’t know what he wants – he doesn’t know if he wants to be with me, but he doesn’t want anyone else to be with me, either.” Her voice rose in anger as she stood, walking to the other side of the office. “He won’t come to the awards dinner tomorrow night because he hates Women United Through Faith. He can’t put aside the fact – just for a few hours - that he dislikes them in order to do something nice for me, because it’s always got to be about him.”

Jordan didn’t comment; she’d just taken a large bite of sandwich and continued to eat while she watched Harriet absently straightening a couple of the photo frames on the shelf in front of her.

“The thing is?” Harriet turned back to face her. “I do love him. It’s crazy, but even after everything that’s happened, I love him and I guess I probably always will. But we’re bad for one another - we stopped bringing out the best in each other years ago. This – whatever it is we’re doing – it’s not good for either of us and it has to stop. And I have to stop it, because Matt won’t.” She sighed heavily and flopped back down into the chair, deflated. When she spoke again, her tone was very subdued. “We used to be so close. Sometimes it was almost creepy, how well we knew each other. But now… the only time I feel that close to him anymore is when I’m speaking the words he’s written; and as for knowing each other well - sometimes I wonder whether we ever really knew each other at all.”

“Harry – I’m really… I’m so sorry.”

“No, seriously. Don’t be. It’s just Matt and his crazy, mixed up view of the world, and my stupid fault for letting things go on like this for so long. I guess I thought that maybe he’d…” she heaved another sigh, “oh, I don’t know what I thought, but it’s not happening and it’s time to let go.”

Jordan didn’t know what to say to that. From what she’d seen of their relationship, Matt and Harriet were two people who seemed to need each other more than even they knew. They argued and bickered, sure, but they had some strange kind of co-dependent thing going on, and no one could deny that both of them were at their best professionally when they were working together. But then, Jordan sighed inwardly, what did she know? Her track record when it came to relationships was hardly stellar and now – well this latest development was a doozy.

She suddenly found the silence uncomfortable. “How are the rehearsals for the movie going?”

Harriet swallowed and nodded. “Pretty well, so far. I have to work on my accent a bit more though – I mean it’s okay, but it slips occasionally,” she shrugged, stabbing a tomato absently. “It’ll be fine.”

“Are the shooting dates set yet?”

“Yeah – Luke’s had them more or less worked out since Christmas, so it’s all looking good. Matt and -” she stopped mid sentence, smiling uneasily. “It’s all fine.”

Jordan wiped her mouth with a napkin. “It’s okay,” she said softly, “you can say his name. I mean, we’ve all got to work together, so it’s not like I can avoid him completely – it’s just … I can’t see him right now. I need things to settle down a bit, for him to realize what a bad idea it would be for us to... I’ll give it a few days, then maybe it won’t feel so awkward.”

“You think a few days will be enough to make it less awkward?”

Jordan slumped back in her chair. “Probably not.” She groaned and closed her eyes. “Oh, God, Harriet, what am I going to do?”

“About what?”

Jordan’s eyes snapped open as she sat upright. “About Danny!”

“Well – what do you want to do about him?”

“Right now? I could rip out his lungs with an ice-cream scoop! I mean, seriously, what on earth made him think - ?” She threw up her hands in exasperation. “It was just … humiliating!”

Harriet pursed her lips and nodded in agreement. “It was a stupid thing to do.”

“It was; and then, when I – wait.” Jordan frowned. “You know about the letters?”

Harriet cocked her head to the side. “I’m sorry, Jordan, but I think everyone in Hollywood knows about the letters.”

Jordan winced and let her head fall forward onto the desk.

“Yeah, I know about them.” Harriet hesitated briefly and then decided there was no point in trying to conceal anything. “Actually, Danny asked me to write one.”

Jordan straightened up immediately. “What?”

Harriet put out a hand when she spoke, adopting what she hoped was a soothing tone. “But I said no. I told him I thought it was a terrible idea and that if he needed to get other people to plead his case with you, then…” she shrugged. “But of course, once Danny gets an idea like that in his head, that’s it. And then, Matt… honestly the two of them are like a couple of frat-boys; they juice each other up and once that happens, there’s no talking either of them down.”

“Well, thank you for that, at least. Not contributing to the insanity, I mean.” Jordan rested her chin on her hand and blew out a breath. “I have to say though,” she smiled indulgently, “it’s not every day I get a hand-written fax from Marty Scorsese or Steven Spielberg. That was kinda cool...”

Harriet frowned. “Jordan?”

“… not to mention the fact that they actually did it for Danny, just like that - no questions asked - ”

“Jordan -”

“- if it wasn’t so stupid, it’d be sort of impressive, I guess…”

Harriet tried hard to hide her amusement. “Just like Danny, then.”

“Huh?”

“You know, stupid, but impressive?”

“What? Oh – no. No, no – it wasn’t impressive at all. Not really. Just… you know, stupid.”

“Yes.”

“And embarrassing.”

“I can see it would be, yes.”

Jordan’s forehead creased into a suspicious frown. “Why do I sense you’re not completely with me on this?”

“Oh, I’m completely with you. I’m just not sure you’re completely with you!”

“What?”

“Oh, come on. One minute you’re telling me how embarrassed and humiliated you were, the next you’re on the verge of writing him a recommendation yourself!”

“I wasn’t! I just -” Jordan threw up her hands in exasperation. “What is wrong with me? I mean here’s this guy. He’s cute, he’s funny, he’s successful, he’s smart, he’s cute -”

“You said that.”

“What?”

“That Danny’s cute – you said that already.”

“I did?”

Harriet cocked her head to the side, her lips pursed as she tried to prevent the escape of the huge grin that was threatening to spread across her face.

“What?” Jordan looked puzzled.

“Nothing.”

“No, come on. Say it.”

“It’s none of my business,” Harriet said, schooling her expression into something more serious.

“Please? I need to - I don’t know, work this out and I’m not doing so well with that on my own.”

Harriet stared at her for a second before she relented. “Okay – but seriously, I’m hardly an advertisement for how to have a healthy relationship.”

“Maybe not, but you’re all I’ve got right now.”

“Thanks!”

“Oh – sorry – I didn’t mean… that is …”

Harriet chuckled and held up her hands. “Jordan – it’s fine. Just - tell me what the problem is.”

“The problem?” Jordan began ticking off on her fingers. “I’m his boss. We have three marriages and divorces between us, he’s a recovering addict, I got arrested on a DUI eight years ago and my slime-ball of an ex-husband is hawking a book about the seedier side of our marriage. Oh, and there’s the small matter of my being pregnant by the guy who told me about Danny’s little slip with the coke which was the leverage I used to get him and Matt to come back to the show.”

“What?”

Jordan did a mental double take; “I – uh, never mind- ” and continued with her tirade, her voice rising in irritation. “I mean it’s not as though I haven’t got enough to deal with; then Danny announces to everyone who’s anyone in Hollywood that -” she waved her hands around agitatedly. “And when I told him to back off, he refused point blank. Can you believe it? Right to my face - ‘No’ - he won’t stop. But then - he stops! Just like that, he - ” Jordan stopped suddenly, taking in Harriet’s stunned expression. “How’s that for ‘the problem’?”

Harriet blinked. “That’s a lot of problems.”

“It is.”

“Except…”

“Except what?”

Harriet waved a hand dismissively and shook her head.

“No, what?” Jordan persisted.

Harriet shrugged and gave in. So much for telling herself to leave this alone. “You never said you didn’t like him.”

It was Jordan’s turn to emit an unladylike snort. “What is this, kindergarten?”

“I’m serious – all those things, they’re factors for sure, but surely, that should have been number one on your list – you wanted him to stop because you’re not interested.”

Jordan looked incredulous – and a little guilty. “Hm?”

“Jordan -”

She covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know what to think any more. I’ve known the man for barely three months when he tells me he’s falling in love with me -”

“He told you that?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“During the Christmas show.”

“Wow.”

“I know -” she looked up, “it was kinda – Anyway, he told me that, then he just wouldn’t stop – he called practically every day I was at my parents’, he called me on vacation… I couldn’t think, I just didn’t -”

“That’s understandable – you needed time to think about it.”

“Yes! No – yes, I -”

Harriet set her salad carton down on the desk and wiped her hands on a napkin before continuing, quietly, “I’m probably the least qualified person I know to give any kind of relationship advice, Jordan.” She paused, considering. “Well, apart from Matt. Or Danny, for that matter. But you got what you wanted. He’s stopped.”

“He has. He said … yes he has.”

“Yes, he has.” Harriet sat back, eyeing her friend studiously for a few seconds. “Jordan, if you could see your face right now…”

“What?”

“I guess it shows you should be careful what you wish for, because you might just get it.”

Jordan opened her mouth to speak – but couldn’t think of anything to say in response. Much as she hated to admit it, even if only to herself, Harriet had hit uncomfortably close to home with that remark. Jordan had asked Danny to leave her alone and despite his insistence to the contrary, he’d complied with her request. He’d not come over to her office on some pretext or other, he hadn’t called her… She hadn’t seen or spoken to him for almost two days and was surprised to find she missed that.

She missed him.

“So think about it,” Harriet continued softly. “The marriages, the drugs, work…the baby. You can’t tell me they’re things Danny hasn’t thought about either. I know him; he works out every angle before he does anything – well, mostly, he does.”

Jordan sighed; she knew Harriet was right – Danny might have been a little hasty, but she couldn’t deny that he’d thought things through. He’d voiced her objections before she’d even had a chance to consider them herself. “I guess he did. He said he -” she took a deep breath. “He told me he wasn’t a woman’s dream of a man – or a father. A father, Harry. When I thought about that, it – it freaked me out. He just stood there and offered to be my baby’s father. What kind of guy does that? How many men do you know who wouldn’t have run away screaming at the thought of taking on another man’s child?”

Harriet said nothing as Jordan shot her a bemused look and dropped her head into her hands. “Oh, God, I just answered my own question, didn’t I?”

“Pretty much.”

“But what if…” Jordan looked up again. “What if he’s just doing this because he feels sorry for me or something? I mean, maybe he’s got some kind of white knight complex and he thinks I’m a damsel in distress -”

Harriet couldn’t suppress a snort of laughter. “I’m sorry – I just got this image of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza -”

“Harry! Seriously, Danny’s just back on the wagon; what if this is all some kind of withdrawal high, or he’s looking for some way to, I don’t know, atone for his slip up, and we – And then he realizes it’s wrong for him? He’s a good guy, he’ll do the right thing, and then he’ll resent me and the baby, and then when it’s older, he’ll leave and my child will grow up without a father and -”

“Hey – just calm down and take a breath once in a while, would you? I mean, you haven’t even been on a date with him!”

Jordan looked startled, but to Harriet’s surprise she did as she was told, taking a couple of deep breaths before closing her eyes and leaning back in her chair.

“That’s it though, really, isn’t it?” Harriet continued cautiously. “The marriages, the addiction, they’re not the real reasons you asked him to leave you alone, are they?”

Jordan’s protest was immediate. “Yes!” She sighed as Harriet shot her a pointed look. “At least, I think… Not really.” She shook her head. “It’s a mess. I’m a mess.”

“No it’s not – and neither are you. Well, maybe just a little…” Harriet grinned, relieved to see a smile twitching at the corners of Jordan’s mouth. “It makes perfect sense,” she continued more seriously, getting up to perch on the edge of the desk. “It’s not just you any more. You’re going to be someone’s mother and that’s a wonderful, wonderful thing. It’s also a scary thing and a huge responsibility. I have no idea how I’d react in your situation and I have to say, I admire you for the way you’re handling it. And all those things you’re thinking and feeling… well, I guess you’d be an irresponsible future parent if you weren’t thinking them.” Harriet paused and smiled fondly. “But you’re still entitled to think about what you want and what’s best for you at the same time as you’re thinking about what’s best for the baby. That’s all I’m saying.” She got up and walked back to the other side of the desk, picking up the empty cartons and stuffing them into a bag for the trash.

“I wouldn’t write a letter – but I’ll tell you this. Danny’s a good man. One of the best. If you’re lucky enough to have him for a friend, then there’s nothing he won’t do for you. He’s brilliant, he’s charming, he’s opinionated and he can be annoyingly smug. He’s far from perfect and he’s had his problems, but in all the time I’ve known him I can put my hand on my heart and say that he’s never been anything less than completely honest.” She chuckled softly. “Brutally so, at times.”

Jordan sat silently, staring absently at one of the pictures on the wall as she considered - not for the first time over the last couple of days - the possibility that she may have made a mistake by telling Danny so unequivocally to leave her alone. Maybe she should have told him she needed time to think, or that she wanted to take things slow, or that she didn’t want to rush into anything under the circumstances… But instead she’d panicked, trotted out a whole slew of excuses and pushed him away. And if she was honest with herself, she’d have to admit that was really the last thing she’d wanted to do. Because - to use Harriet’s expression - she did like Danny. A lot. And that, in itself, scared her. She’d never been particularly lucky with men and now, as Harriet rightly said, she had more than just herself to consider. She was trying to be rational, to think about consequences and possible outcomes, to do the best thing for herself and for her baby. But -

But right now, she realized, all this thinking and considering was starting to give her a headache.

“You know,” Harriet continued, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear as she sat down, “this might be difficult to believe, but Danny’s an old-fashioned guy when it comes to women.” She smiled, mischievously. “He is, as you say, cute, so he has his fair share of them throwing themselves at him.”

Jordan put out a hand. “Harry, you don’t have to -”

“I know,” Harriet nodded. “I meant it would be easy for Danny to, I don’t know, have a different woman every night if he wanted to. But he doesn’t do that any more.” She paused, leaning forward in her chair. “I didn’t know his first wife, and I only met the second a few times - and that was when things were pretty much on the rocks between them. I can’t tell you why either marriage failed. But one thing I can tell you - he’s the last guy who’d ever tell a woman he felt something for her that he didn’t. In case you hadn’t noticed, he’s pretty big on honesty.”

Jordan managed a shaky grin. “You couldn’t have faxed me all that?”

Harriet shook her head. “I’m sorry if that was out of line. It’s just - you’re my friend. And he’s my friend, too, and you’re both walking around looking so…” she threw up her hands, “miserable. And I’m miserable, and Matt’s – well, I don’t know what Matt is, but -” She heaved a sigh. “He’d probably say I should stop trying to be a yenta - but it would be nice if someone around here caught a break once in a while.”

Jordan raised an eyebrow. “Can a Southern Baptist be a yenta?”

“Oh, shut up.” Harriet grinned good-naturedly and stood up as a brisk knock at the door heralded the appearance of Kevin. “Your two o’clock’s here.”

“Oh,” Jordan looked down at the remainder of her lunch. “I’ll just be – um…”

He smiled knowingly and nodded. “Ten minutes?”

“Thank you.” She finished her sandwich and picked up a chocolate donut.

Harriet smiled to herself and picked up her things, glancing at her watch. “I have to go fight with Matt now anyway – it’s Wednesday, so he’ll be freaking out over how much more he has to write for this week’s show.”

Jordan chuckled. “It’s weird, but it’s kinda sweet how you know that.”

“It’s not just plain weird?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s still sweet.”

Harriet shook her head, her smile turning wistful. “Matt and I are many things, but sweet isn’t the word I’d use to describe us right now. If it ever was.”

Jordan shrugged. “You’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t know. It’s like – we’re too broken now to fix. And I don’t know if I want to fix it any more. It’s just so… hard. And it hurts too much.”

Jordan couldn’t really think of an answer to that, so she just shrugged. “‘Tis better to have loved and lost…’?”

Harriet smiled sadly. “There are times when I wonder if Shakespeare knew what he was talking about.” Reaching the door, she paused briefly before turning and saying brightly, “See you tomorrow.”

“Yup – seven o’clock. I’ll be there.”

“You’re sure it’s - ?”

Jordan waved a hand. “It’s fine. I can’t hide from Danny forever, right? And in any case, we’re not going to be hanging around over there, so if I see him, I’ll be civil – say a quick hello, then you and I can go. It’s not like I’m going to be stuck with him all night, is it?”

Harriet opened the door. “Nah,” she smiled over her shoulder. “Life’s not that cruel!”

End.

Trouble Sleeping (PG)

Thu, 18 Dec 2008 17:56:23 GMT

Disclaimers: I own nothing, I’m making nothing… these characters were created by Aaron Sorkin and belong to Sorkin, ShoeMoney Productions and NBC. I’m just taking them out for a spin and will return when I’ve finished with them. Although I might need to hang on to Danny for a while …

Being anally retentive about that sort of thing, I proofed it myself, so any mistakes are mine!

Category/Pairing: D/J, friendship, teeny bit of UST, post ep for 1.10, B-12

Spoilers: Up to The Christmas Show.

Originally posted 25 February 2007

I haven’t written anything since before Christmas, so I wanted to blow the cobwebs off my writing muscle, such as it is. I wrote some of this around New Year when the show was on hiatus, (and managed to finish it just in time for the next one!) and because I was wondering how it was that Danny ended up accompanying Jordan to her OBGYN appointment.

Oh, and I wrote this before the last episode aired, so the assumptions about Jordan’s driving are mine, even though canon seems to have borne them out!

Huge “thank-yous” go out to nit-picker extraordinaire, coloneljack for her fabulous insight, and to salr323 and teresadivicenzo for the hand holding as I felt my way through this one. It took me seven years to write WW fic, so writing this after less than seven months was terrifying, to say the least!

Trouble Sleeping.

I’m pregnant.

You’re pregnant.

Danny stood in the doorway, unable to do anything but stare down at Jordan, still sitting on the floor where he’d left her.

She’s pregnant.

He let that sink in for a second or two – watching her as she turned away, trying to ignore the sudden flood of questions running through his mind. Who?... When? …

Trying to dislodge those thoughts, he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes – opening them to find her watching him earnestly. She was pale, her expression still one of alarm, her eyes pleading with him - I can’t have the shot.

Silently, he moved from the doorway and walked slowly back into the room.

“Come on,” he said softly, squatting down in front of her, “you can’t stay down there. I’ll help you up.”

Jordan closed her eyes. “Just… give me a minute.” She took a deep breath, then another and Danny was starting to think that maybe she was falling asleep when her eyes flew open, searching his face. “But promise me – no shot.”

He didn’t think he’d ever heard her sound so scared. And that in itself was cause for concern. The Jordan McDeere who came to work every day was resilient, self-possessed – some might even say, cold. She used humor like a shield, flippancy like a weapon, and must have busted more than her fair share of balls over the years. That was the woman who’d braved the wrath of Jack Rudolph to pass on Search and Destroy and sign ‘Nations’.

Then there’d been the woman who’d talked about doing her job as though she had only a year to live. Maybe that hadn’t been a wise move, but he couldn’t deny that it had a certain – style. Not to mention the woman who’d all but blackmailed him back to the show. Ballsy, gutsy, a ‘network bitch’ - that’s what he’d heard about her when she’d gotten the job at NBS. And he’d been prepared to believe it, too, after the stunt she’d pulled – until somehow he’d seen… he didn’t know what, but he’d come to realize quickly that that woman wasn’t the ‘real’ Jordan. He didn’t know how he knew, or what it was about her - there was just something. Something telling him that underneath the polished exterior she showed to the world lurked an insecurity, a vulnerability - something about her that made him want to –

“Danny?”

He realized he’d been staring at her, watching her as she watched him and dropped his gaze for a second. He offered her a small smile as he looked back up and nodded. “Okay. No shot.” Standing, he held out his hand. “But you need to get up now. Come on.”

Jordan reached up and took his outstretched hand – but she couldn’t do it, couldn’t pull herself up. Her head was still spinning, her limbs felt as though they didn’t belong to her – she felt weak and helpless and she hated it. She always had. And if she’d been feeling more like herself it might have been possible for her to stop her mouth from speaking without permission, but as it was, she just leaned her head back on the arm of the chair again and blinked up at the ceiling. “Uh… I can’t – Danny, could you..?”

“Sure”. He didn’t show any signs of surprise or amusement – all she could see on his face was concern as he bent down to put his arms around her again, this time to help her up. Dimly, Jordan registered that she was clinging to him tightly, as though her life depended on it. Part of her hoped desperately that he hadn’t noticed - the part that hated feeling helpless and hated showing it even more. She didn’t want to need his help; but the part of her that had the upper hand right now was feeling too sick to care and, she realized with surprise, relieved. It had been such a long time since there had been anyone in her life to take care of her that for these few minutes, she was content to allow the feeling to wash over her, even if it was only temporary. It had seemed lately that men were only interested in her for what they could get – usually sex or advancement – but this man wanted neither and it was with a jolt of surprise that she realized he made her feel… safe.

Danny helped Jordan to sit on the chair, releasing her slowly back into the cushions, then straightened up, glanced at his watch and out of the window into the studio below. The commercial break which had followed Corinne Bailey-Rae’s number would be coming to an end in a minute or so and he’d have to get back to the floor.

“Jordan?” She turned her face towards the sound of his voice, her eyelids drooping. “I have to go finish the show.”

“Okay,” she breathed.

“I’ll send the nurse up – “

Jordan’s eyes flew open as she shot upright – “No!” - then she instantly regretted it as the sharp movement started her head spinning again and swept new waves of nausea over her.

Danny put out a reassuring hand and perched himself on the arm of the chair opposite her again. “Don’t worry – no shot, I promise. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He paused briefly, seeing the surprise flash across her face at that and grinned.

“Besides, I don’t want you walking around infecting any more people.”

Jordan closed her eyes and flopped back into the chair with a groan.

“I’m not sure I could walk at all, right now.”

Danny stood up.

“We’re out in twelve and a half minutes,” he said softly. “I’ll speak to Cal and come back as soon as I can. I’ll take you home.”

“Okay…” Jordan sank back into the armchair, figuring that maybe if she kept completely still and quiet, her head might start to forgive her and her limbs might start to feel as if they were actually hers again. Danny’s offer hadn’t really sunk in – all she knew was that the sound of his voice was soothing and that right then she’d have been happy to listen to it all night.

Jordan heard the door close quietly and put her hand over her eyes. The numbness that had frozen her earlier had worn off and now her mind wouldn’t stop racing. Her mouth had run away with her, she’d made things so much worse… She almost couldn’t believe the turn events had taken – but then again, given the way her luck had been running since she’d taken this job, it was no surprise that imminent disaster was lurking around the corner to balance out the fantastically good news about the baby.

It had been a huge shock of course, and Jordan had been amazed to find herself incredibly, unexpectedly happy. She’d never really thought of herself as particularly maternal and, God knew, this had happened at the worst possible time, but still, she was content. Happy. And more than a little scared. Bringing a child into the world was a huge responsibility and she certainly hadn’t imagined she’d be doing it so soon, or that she’d be doing it alone.

But the fact that her baby’s father wanted nothing to do with it was actually a huge relief. She certainly couldn’t imagine spending the rest of her life with him, and in any case being a single mother and president of the network was going to be difficult enough without having her idiot ex-boyfriend around, demanding more of her attention than the baby probably ever would. This was the twenty-first century and she was perfectly capable of having and bringing up this child on her own.

But, oh God, the mess she’d created by hurling those glib insults at the journalist from Time, added to the recent deluge of negative press she’d been steadfastly ignoring… She didn’t let it show, but it had hurt. She’d been young and stupid; had married the wrong man and if she hadn’t suffered enough at the time, she was certainly paying for her mistakes now. And on top of that, she didn’t dare think about what Jack’s reaction would be when she told him she was pregnant – something she’d have to do pretty soon. Jordan squeezed her eyes together tightly under her hand. She wouldn’t cry. Not again. It wasn’t something she did very often, not any more, certainly not in front of anyone else – and definitely not in front of Danny. He’d said he would come back, so she had to pull herself together before he did. But all she could think about was how pathetic she must have looked sitting on the floor, pleading with him – and what on earth had possessed her to just blurt it out like that? I’m pregnant. How stupid had that been? Of course, he’d figured it out anyway, but still … She hadn’t imagined Danny Tripp being the first person at NBS to know.

After the way they’d first met, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d held a grudge – she’d done her homework; she knew enough about him to know that the affable and charming exterior was cover for the tough, single-minded bastard he needed to be on occasion. You didn’t get as far as he’d gotten in his chosen profession otherwise. By reputation, he was opinionated, manipulative, didn’t play well with ‘the suits’ – a real pain in the ass, in fact. But strangely, he appeared not to resent her at all, he’d even gone out of his way to help her… and she still couldn’t really work out why. Was it because he felt sorry for her? Had he taken pity on her because she’d wandered into a minefield of reality pitches and crappy press, and thought she’d ruin “his” show if left to her own devices?

But …

“You’re very – winning…”

Her mind flew back to what he’d said to her last week, the two of them sitting in Matt’s office as he’d advised her to control her own press. Or rather, not so much what he’d said as the way he’d said it… and the look on his face… it hadn’t felt like pity then. Jordan sighed and rubbed her hand across her forehead, slowly. Now this fever was making her delusional. Her head was throbbing – she’d not slept well for the last couple of nights, kept awake by thoughts about the future, the baby, the wider implications, whether she still had a job, whether it was worth all the crap that was being thrown at her…

A knock at the door brought her train of thought abruptly – thankfully – to an end as the nurse opened it and stepped into the room. “Mr. Tripp said you weren’t feeling well and asked me to come up to check on you,” she smiled. Jordan nodded and pushed herself a little more upright as the other woman closed the door and walked over to sit in the chair opposite her.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The nurse had checked her pulse, taken her temperature, given her some Tylenol and generally fussed over her for a minute or two. As Danny had promised, there had been no mention of a B-12 shot, but Jordan could tell the other woman had worked out why she didn’t want it. She was packing her things away when the door opened again and Danny walked back into the room.

“She’s fine,” the nurse said quietly, before he could ask. “She’s tired and she said she’s been off her food lately – that, on top of the virus has worn her out. She’s not as badly affected as some of the others, though…” she zipped up her bag. “I’ve told her she should drink plenty of water, take two Tylenol every four to six hours, and get some rest. She’ll be back to - normal - in a day or so.”

Normal? Jordan couldn’t help but consider the irony of that. Her life was going to be anything but from now on.

She’d noticed the way Danny’s eyebrows had quirked up at the word and knew he was almost certainly thinking the same thing.

But all he said was, “Thanks,” as he ushered the nurse from the room and closed the door after her. He stood there for a second or two, his head bowed, his forehead creased into a slight frown, before stuffing his hands into his pockets and walking over to where Jordan was still sitting slumped in the chair. Her face was pinched and pale, the dark circles under her eyes accentuated by the traces of mascara that had run earlier when, although he’d pretended not to see it, he could tell there had been tears.

He bent slightly and leaned in, placing a hand gently on her forehead.

“You’re still hot.”

Jordan, her head resting on the back of the chair, managed to quirk the slightest of smiles. “Why, thank you, sir, I didn’t think you’d noticed.”

He muttered something she couldn’t make out under his breath as he moved back to perch himself on the arm of the other chair again. “If you’re well enough to mock, you’re well enough to go home. Come on – I’ll drive you.”

Jordan knew the surprise she felt had registered on her face. “There’s no need, I can–"

“What? You can’t drive yourself home like this. Jordan, you’re -"

“Doesn’t Matt need you so he can beat himself up about the show tonight?”

Danny blinked at the abrupt change of subject. “Nah, he doesn’t need me for that – he does okay on his own.”

Jordan sat up a little straighter. The Tylenol she’d taken was starting to kick in and her head wasn’t feeling so much as though it was being pounded on the inside with a ten pound sledge hammer.

“Well, I’ll get a cab; I don’t want to impose-”

Danny sighed and pulled off his glasses, rubbing one eye before tucking them into his shirt. “It’s not an imposition. You’re not well and you shouldn’t be driving in that condition - and you’re –" he looked down at her as yet flat stomach, then realizing he probably shouldn’t do that, wrenched his eyes back up to her face.

Jordan couldn’t suppress a smile at that. “Pregnant?”

“Well, yeah, that too.”

“Danny, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but lots of pregnant women drive cars. Being pregnant doesn’t automatically mean you lose your ability to drive. Although I guess there might come a point when I’m too big to fit behind the wheel, but –"

“Actually, I wasn’t thinking of that.”

“No?”

“No, you’re just a terrible driver.”

“Hey-!”

“Backing into Jack’s car in the parking lot before you’d even started the job?

“How did you know about that?”

He shrugged. “I know everything.”

“You’re – you know what? I’m sick and I don’t have to sit here and be insulted.”

“No,” he pushed himself off the arm of the chair. “You can stand up for that – come on.” Grinning down at her, he held out a hand.

Jordan actually managed to roll her eyes without experiencing any pain.

“That’s an old one.”

Grasping Danny’s outstretched hand, she pulled herself up out of the chair, and realized, as a wave of nausea hit her suddenly, that she’d stood up too quickly.

“They say the old ones are the best,” he countered, speaking as though everything were normal and she wasn’t pressed into his side, gripping his shoulder tightly as she waited for the room to come back into focus.

“And you’d know all about that, Gracie,” she said, steadying herself.

Danny shot her a withering look and removed his arm. “Yeah, you’re definitely well enough to go home.”

“I’m definitely well enough to get a cab.”

“Jordan, it’s just a ride home.” Danny sighed. “Let me - think of it as a favor from a friend, okay?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but found she didn’t have anything to say. Danny was … a friend. She remembered how, at the wrap party only a few short weeks ago – although now, it might as well have been a lifetime – she’d been lamenting the fact that she didn’t have any real friends here. And now, here was someone offering to be just that. A friend. And it felt – good.

She smiled wanly at him. “Okay.”

He pursed his lips and nodded, moving towards the door.

“And, Danny?”

Opening it for her, he cocked his head to the side.

“Thanks.”

He smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Jordan was grateful that Danny didn’t seem inclined to talk during the drive to her house. The only conversation that had taken place had been when he’d asked for her address and she’d given it to him. After that, they’d settled into a comfortable silence, and Jordan had at last been able to allow herself to relax. She was starting to feel more like herself, less queasy – in fact, she realized she was hungry and had just started mentally cataloguing what she thought might be in her fridge, when she felt the car slow and Danny pulled into the driveway.

He jumped out and had opened her door for her before she’d disentangled herself from the seatbelt. As she stepped out carefully into the night air, she felt a little woozy again and was glad to feel his hand at her elbow as he walked her to the door.

Once inside, she dropped her keys absently onto the hall table and shrugged out of her coat. Danny followed her through to the kitchen and leaned against the counter, watching her walk wearily across the room to open the fridge.

She pulled out a pitcher and waved it half-heartedly at him. “Iced Tea?”

He raised his eyebrows and pushed himself away from the counter. “I’ll do it,” he said, walking over and kicking the refrigerator closed. “You should sit down… or something.”

Jordan didn’t really have the inclination or the strength to argue with him – but she hoped he wasn’t going to turn out to be one of those men who thought that no pregnant woman should do anything remotely active. And then realized that was a very strange thing to think. What did it matter what he thought?

Wearily, she slumped down onto a chair at the table and propped her chin up on her hand, watching Danny as he took a couple of glasses from the cupboard she pointed out and pour out the iced tea.

Next thing she knew, he’d placed a full glass and a sandwich in front of her, and had pulled the chair opposite around to the top of the table.

“You spaced out a little, there.”

Jordan rubbed her eyes and managed a weak smile. “Sorry.”

He shrugged and sat down, leaning forward with his hands clasped between his knees. “Don’t be - it’s okay.”

Jordan watched him for a few seconds as he stared down absently - and realized he was working his way up to something. She was pretty sure she knew what it was, but was too tired to pre-empt the conversation. Besides, she needed to eat. She picked up the sandwich – God knew how he’d found his way around her kitchen; most of the time she had no idea where things were herself - and started to eat, knowing that Danny wasn’t one to shy away from awkward situations. Sooner or later, he'd ask what he wanted to know.

“So…” he said finally, turning his head sideways to look at her. “How..? I mean -” he scratched behind his ear absently, not really knowing how to ask the questions that had been flying through his mind for the last hour or so.

Jordan sat back and finished chewing her mouthful of sandwich, studiously avoiding his gaze.

“Around eleven weeks.”

“Really?” He looked up and sat back as well. “How long have you known?”

“Not long.” She took a sip of tea and looked at him over the rim of her glass. “A few days.” Danny’s eyebrows shot up.

“What?” Jordan frowned at him. “I’ve been busy – what with -”

Danny held up his hands. “I didn’t say anything! I have no idea how this sort of thing works and -”

“Well,” she said seriously, setting her glass down on the table, “when two people like each other -”

He chuckled, relieved to see the tiniest of twinkles returning to her eye. “I meant, you’re certain? You’ve done a test, seen a doctor?”

“Yes, yes and not yet.” At his puzzled look, Jordan rolled her eyes. “I am certain, I have done a test and I have a doctor’s appointment on Monday.”

“You know, I think I liked you better when you were semi-conscious.”

“Well, doesn’t that just suck for me?”

“Not as much as it does for me,” he smirked. “Shut up and eat.”

Too hungry to disagree with him, Jordan returned to her food.

“Anyway,” she said later, as though the conversation hadn’t paused, “why are you so interested?”

“What?” He put down his glass. “I’m not, it’s just… unexpected, is all.”

“You got that right.”

“I’m sorry.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “That was unbelievably -”

Jordan smiled. “It’s okay, really. It was a shock when I found out, but I’m fine. More than fine – or I will be once I get over this bug.”

“Yeah.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder and stood up. “I should go. Let you get some sleep.”

“Okay.”

Danny rested his hands on the back of his chair. “So. Monday?”

“I’m seeing the doctor.”

“What time?”

“Eight thirty. Wait -”

He straightened up and put his hands in his pockets. “I’ll pick you up at eight, then.”

This was, she thought, typical of him – not asking, but telling – then she realized what he’d actually said. “What?”

“I said I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“I heard what you said – you want to come to the Lamaze classes, too?”

“Jordan -”

“You can’t come to the OBGYN with me!”

“Why not?”

“What do you mean, why not?” Danny actually took a step backwards at her almost shriek. “I’ll tell you why not! For one thing – you’re not the father. For another, I hardly know you and for another –“ Jordan took a breath – and realized she’d run out of reasons.

“That’s all you got?”

“All? Isn’t that enough?”

“No.”

Jordan stood and moved around the table to stand in front of him. “Danny –"

“So, who is the father?”

“Danny!” Jordan may have been expecting the question, but hadn’t figured out yet how she was going to answer it, under the circumstances.

They stared at each other for a couple of seconds, Jordan realizing that there was just no good way to give Danny the answer he wanted. She’d tell him when she was ready, and that wasn’t going to be tonight – what she needed tonight was sleep and a chance to think about how to tell him that the baby’s father was sort of responsible for the fact that Danny was even here in the first place. Jordan knew Danny well enough to know that he wouldn’t leave this one alone, and was preparing to plead her sickness and exhaustion as the reasons she didn’t want to talk about it right now, when he surprised her by changing the subject himself.

“Look,” he sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. “I just figured you might need someone to – some moral support.” He looked at his watch. “It’s late – you should get to bed and get some rest. Whatever this bug is, it’s short lived, but in a couple of hours you’ll feel like all you want to do is sleep for a week, so you should go to bed now and get started on that.”

Jordan felt her shoulders sag as she watched Danny walk to the kitchen door. The idea of his accompanying her to her doctor’s appointment was ridiculous, crazy, and she was glad he’d abandoned it. It was a good thing. It was. So why did she suddenly feel a little downcast?

She walked with him to the front door. Opening it, he turned to face her again. “Okay. Well, you get some rest. And I’ll see you Monday at eight.”

Jordan blinked. “Wait. You can’t. It’s ridiculous.”

“Why?”

“I told you why.”

“No you didn’t. You made excuses.”

“Danny -”

“It’s no big deal. Your car’s at the office anyway and it’s too early in the week for Matt to start imploding –”

“But -”

Danny walked past her and out of the door, calling over his shoulder as he walked to his car - “No buts. I’ll see you Monday.”

Jordan opened her mouth to protest again – then closed it when she realized that not only would arguing not do her any good, but that she was too tired to put up a fight. Folding her arms, she slumped against the door frame, watching Danny’s car as he turned out of her driveway on to the street.

She went back inside and closed the door. So she was going to have company on Monday after all. It was … strange. Strange that Danny Tripp, of all people had appointed himself her friend, and strange that it felt – right. She went back into the kitchen to get a glass of water and the Tylenol, switched off the lights and made her way upstairs.

As she got ready for bed, she couldn’t help thinking that despite everything, today had ended better for her than she really deserved. Jack was right – she had made things worse when she should have been fixing them and now she had some serious ground to make up. The screw up with the interview wasn’t going to be easy to put right, her ex- didn’t look as though he was going away any time soon, and she still had to break her ‘news’ to Jack. But somehow, despite the fact that she was sick and completely exhausted, she felt better than she had done earlier, when everything had seemed so hopeless. She’d messed up royally. She knew she had a long way to go to fix it, but at least now… well, things didn’t look so bleak any more.

Pulling back the bedcovers, Jordan slid gratefully down between her cool sheets and leaned over to switch off the lamp on the nightstand. As she snuggled into her pillow, her last thought as she drifted off was that she wouldn’t have trouble sleeping tonight.

End.

Doing the Deed (R)

Tue, 16 Dec 2008 21:44:52 GMT

Everything Old is New Again (PG)

Tue, 16 Dec 2008 21:43:34 GMT

In Plain Sight (PG-13)

Tue, 16 Dec 2008 21:42:12 GMT

Changing Horizons (NC-17)

Tue, 16 Dec 2008 21:40:18 GMT

Disclaimers: I own nothing, I’m making nothing… these wonderful characters were created by Aaron Sorkin and belong to Sorkin, Wells and NBC. I’m just taking them out for a spin and will return when I’ve finished with them. Although I might need to hang on to Josh for a while …

Being anally retentive about that sort of thing, I proofed it myself, so any mistakes are mine!

Category/Pairing: Josh/Donna, Election Day introspection and smut.

Spoilers: Up to Election Day I, 7.16

Originally posted 16 April 2008

Last May, I posted Uncertain Horizons, which was my attempt to figure out at least a little of what might have been going through Donna’s head on the night before the election, when she and Josh finally made it to bed together.

Even before I posted that, I’d considered the idea of writing a companion piece from Josh’s PoV, and did in fact make a start on it. I’ve been meaning to get back to it for ages, but kept getting distracted by a thing (well, several things, actually) – and when I opened it up recently, I discovered I’d actually written a lot more of it than I’d originally thought. So I finally finished it!

Thanks to zinke for correcting my Britishisms and to my partner-in-crime,coloneljack, who keeps me going and bolsters my confidence – and frequently makes me laugh like a drain.

Changing Horizons

Josh heard the door click softly shut and wandered back into the bedroom. Blowing out a sigh, he sat down heavily on the end of the bed and scrubbed his hand across his face.

What the hell had just happened?

He’d been so worried that Donna had been going to leave without a word – worried that this hadn’t been more than a one night thing for her, that he’d acted like an idiot and blurted out the first thing that had come into his head.

You don’t have to leave.

She’d insisted that hadn’t been her intention, but he couldn’t accept that - he’d just had to go and dig himself a deeper hole.

I mean, you don’t have to sneak out.

He dropped his head into his hands and groaned softly.

What had he been expecting? After all this time, when they knew each other practically inside out, surely there should have been some sort of… he didn’t know… shouldn’t they have talked? Said something? He couldn’t recall their having said anything to each other after they’d left the bar last night, although he had a vague recollection of mumbling Donna’s name a few times – and definitely of shouting it once – but other than that? For two people who had spent most of the time they’d known each other talking, this sudden inability to find the right words – any words – to say to each other was bewildering - and Josh felt completely adrift.

And just now - he’d tried to get close to her, and not only physically close; he’d genuinely wanted to know how she was feeling, hoping she’d give him another sign, some sort of indication as to what she wanted to happen next. He’d expected some sort of - something that would tell him that she was as thoroughly entangled in this as he was, that she knew how important this was – she was - to him … but she hadn’t done that; and her aloofness had unnerved him almost to the extent that he felt as though he’d gone to bed with one woman and woken up with another.

Which still begged the question. What did she want?

Well, sex, clearly. But was that all she wanted?

Josh knew he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to understanding women. There had been times over the years when he’d gotten the impression that Donna may have been interested in him as more than just a friend, but he was horrible at reading things like that and had been so paralyzed by his fear of ruining what they did have, or worse still, of losing her completely that he’d chosen instead to do nothing, hoping against hope that perhaps one day she’d give him some sort of blindingly obvious signal that would tell him what it was she wanted.

But he’d waited for too long, and she’d left him anyway. Sure, she’d come back eventually, but he wasn’t stupid enough or deluded enough to think that she had returned because of him. She needed a job, there were only two places the political operative she’d become would have been able to find one; and one of those was the administration she’d left several months before. So – and despite his initial refusal - she’d joined the main campaign, and Josh had been torn in two. On the one hand, the prospect of being around her again was faintly intoxicating - but on the other, he found the idea more than a little terrifying. He didn’t know how he would be able to work with her again given the way he felt about her and the fact that she’d all but destroyed him when she left - or how long it would be before it became as painfully obvious to her as he was sure it had become to others that he was desperately in love with her.

So things between them had been – strained, to say the least, and he found himself missing the easy camaraderie they’d used to share. Sometimes, he’d come across Donna and a group of staffers laughing, sharing a joke, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of – was it regret? - jealousy? - when he remembered the way the two of them had laughed and joked with each other over the years. But as the weeks wore on, things had begun to thaw between them, the frosty politeness they’d taken care to preserve with each other gradually melting away. And then, as though by some unspoken assent, the other senior members of his staff had started to let Donna be the one to come to him with problems or - more often than not - bad news, and somehow, they seemed to be finding their way – slowly, admittedly – back to being… well, friends didn’t seem enough to describe what they’d been to each other before, but it was all he had, and for now, it would have to be enough.

But then had come that morning in October when, buoyed by good news and light-headed from little sleep, something had short-circuited in his brain and Josh had been completely unable to stop himself from giving in to impulse and finally - finally, after years of wanting to, he’d grabbed Donna and kissed her. And when she’d responded not by slapping him in the face, but by kissing him back… well, if that wasn’t the signal he’d been waiting for, then he didn’t know what was. Clueless he might be, but not even he could mistake a woman’s having her tongue in his mouth as anything other than a declaration of interest. And even though he’d come down from that kissing-induced high wondering if he had read the situation right – even wondering if the whole thing had been the result of some sleep-deprived hallucination, her slipping him the key to her room that night had cleared up those doubts once and for all.

Donna wanted him. At least on some level, she wanted him and at last he had proof.

Fate had intervened that night in the form of the Congressman, who had summoned him to a late meeting to further discuss the situation in Kazakhstan and their new strategy in the wake of the meltdown in San Andreo, and so he hadn’t gone to her. Sure, there’d been the mix-up over the key, but he knew that was only a symbol anyway. He didn’t need it. Donna had issued an invitation and he’d had every intention of taking her up on it, but… something hadn’t felt right.

Continuing to flick through the news channels absently, Josh recalled how he’d finally gotten back to his room at around two that morning and lain awake for another hour or so, unable to sleep because of the thoughts that kept whirling around in his head. That was nothing new for him – he was used to late nights and the millions of things that crowded into his mind, all vying for attention - but this was different. Different because at that moment, there was only one thing on his mind, one thing which was pushing out everything else; only he couldn’t allow that to happen because there was so much to do, so much at stake and he needed to be single-mindedly focused on the task he’d set himself – getting Matthew Santos elected President of the United States. Everything else could – would have to - wait. Distractions, no matter in what shape or form were things he just couldn’t permit himself.

So he’d lain awake wondering whether Donna was asleep – or awake and pissed at him – or had been pissed at him before she’d fallen asleep – and tried to work out what was going on and what the hell to do next. Maybe that was a failing – this habit he had of trying to come at things from every angle, to work out every eventuality – because in this case, the scenarios playing out in his head had all been telling him one thing.

Not now.

If he’d gone to her that night - if they’d gone to bed together, God help him, but he’d have had a hard time thinking of anything but Donna until the election. As things stood, he struggled – every time he looked at her or heard the sound of her voice – he found it practically impossible to prevent the resurgence of the memory of how her lips had felt moving under his, how her soft, warm body had seemed to melt into him that morning. How much more difficult would he have found it to block out those memories if he’d actually known then what he knew now? If he’d known how she felt surrounding him and underneath him. If he’d had any idea of the sounds she made when she was aroused or of the way she would look when she arched her back in pleasure and shattered around him.

Josh rubbed his eyes and scooted up to the top of the bed so that he could settle himself against the headboard – and stared at the television without paying the slightest attention to what was unfolding on screen.

He had hated the idea of thinking of Donna as a distraction, but that’s what she would have been. Not that he hadn’t been almost constantly distracted by her presence anyway, but since they’d kissed… well, he had found it even harder to keep himself focused on the campaign. But he’d done it. Forced himself to stop thinking about her, telling himself it was only a matter of weeks; that he’d waited years to kiss her and that waiting a few more weeks before they could – he hoped - do anything more was practically nothing up against that. And more importantly, he had to be fair to Donna. He’d had his share of campaign flings in the past, and she was most definitely not one of those. She was more, so much more to him than a quick tumble between campaign stops and when – if – he took her to his bed, he wanted to make sure she knew it meant - something.

He puffed out a breath, tipping his head back to look up at the ceiling. As soon as he closed his eyes, images from last night – just hours ago, he corrected – flashed immediately back into his head. He could see the look on Donna’s face as he’d entered her, her head thrown back on the pillow, her body arching up into his, her breasts, firm, proud, begging to be kissed, licked, something he’d only ever been able to imagine – and even then the reality had been infinitely better than anything he’d ever seen in his dreams. Her full, generous mouth had been hot and eager, her body, soft and responsive… he’d looked into her eyes and seen both desire and desperation - and when he’d discovered just how wet she was for him, how much she wanted him, he’d hardly been able to believe it. Burying himself inside her, all he’d known was heat, softness, fragrance; he’d been completely and utterly enthralled by the sight of her as she writhed in pleasure beneath him, by the sound of her cries and moans, the sensation of her hands moving across his skin … he was lost in her - as he’d known he would be; exhilarated and terrified all at once.

Josh couldn’t help but be amazed at his good fortune. He was twelve years her senior, there were a lot of younger, better looking guys on the team who he was sure would have jumped at the chance to be with Donna – but for some reason, she’d chosen him. And he really had been hoping that that reason was because she might feel more for him than friendship and had wanted this to be about more than just sex.

Because he wanted her.

He needed her.

He loved her.

He’d known that – deep down, he’d known it for years, even if he’d had to come close to losing her in order for him to finally admit it.

But what he didn’t know was whether Donna could possibly feel anything of that magnitude for him. Never in his life had he loved anyone so unconditionally – and it scared the crap out of him. With Mandy, with Amy, there had always been a point beyond which he had been either unable or unwilling to let himself pass, but with Donna, he’d breezed past it long ago. He’d never imagined that there would be anything in his life that would eclipse the importance of politics, but he’d been proven wrong about that time and again where Donna was concerned. He’d do anything for her.

And then - tonight. Tonight, Josh had decided he was done waiting. The polls would open in the morning, he’d done everything he possibly could and there was nothing left to do but wait. If Santos didn’t win the election, there was every chance Donna would walk out of his life again and he couldn’t risk that. He needed to know what it was she wanted from him, if she felt the same way he did – and if at all possible, learn that information without making a complete fool of himself. So he’d sat opposite her downstairs in the bar and led the conversation to where he’d wanted it to go, fairly sure that she’d follow his lead and that they’d end up… here.

And they had. But she’d been - enigmatic, been almost unreadable. Oh, she’d wanted to go to bed with him, sure, and had been more than ready and willing, but he’d not been able to work out whether it was him she wanted, or whether it was just sex and he was merely ‘convenient’ – although he had to admit, he hadn’t really cared all that much about that last part once he’d gotten her up here. And as soon as they’d started kissing each other, touching each other and undressing each other his brain had more or less shut down and his body had taken over, and all he’d been able to think about was the fact that Donna was with him, wanting whatever it was she wanted - and for whatever reason had chosen him to provide it.

But further than that? He’d had no idea - beyond the glorious, unexpected fact that Donna appeared to want him – physically, at least - as badly as he wanted her; and that it was finally time to do something about it. That knowledge had been enough a few hours ago, but now… well, clearly, it wasn’t, and he probably couldn’t have chosen a worse day to try to start figuring it out.

Josh ran his hands over his face and through his hair, then stood up, tossed the TV remote onto the bed and walked into the bathroom to splash some water on his face. He looked at the laptop still sitting on the counter and idly ran his fingers over the keys, figuring he might as well take a look at Reuters while he waited for Donna to come back with the coffee. Which, he supposed, was in itself a good sign. In all of their time together, he could count the number of times she’d offered to bring him coffee on the fingers of one hand, yet she nonetheless knew how he liked it first thing in the morning – loaded with cream and sugar to give him a kick start to the day.

He finished skimming through the site and came to a decision. When Donna got back, he’d find a way to convince her to let the coffee get cold and let him take her back to bed. And this time, if they slept, they wouldn’t wake up with what had seemed like a vast no-man’s-land of mattress between them. When Josh thought of all the times he’d imagined their waking up together, that particular scenario had never even entered his head. Rather, he remembered several occasions when he’d woken drowsily convinced he could actually feel her head resting on his chest, her leg thrown across his thigh as she dozed…

He was dragged back from those pleasant mental wanderings by a brisk knock at the door and blew out a relieved sigh as he straightened up and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He’d not let himself admit until now just how nervous he’d been that Donna’s going to get them some coffee had just been an excuse to get away; but she’d come back.

Thank God.

There was another knock. “Josh?”

Damn - that wasn’t Donna’s voice. Josh walked back into the bedroom and grabbed his dress-shirt from the bottom of the bed. “Hang on.”

He looked around quickly for his pants as he pulled the shirt on – and couldn’t find them. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time members of his staff had seen him in his boxers. On his way to open the door, he took a quick glance back at the bed, something tightening in his chest as he realized there was nothing of Donna’s there. Nothing at all. Not wanting to dwell on that thought, he opened the door, to find Ronna, Otto, Edie and half a dozen other staffers outside and wide awake.

Josh glanced at the clock. “It’s three- thirty,” he protested.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Ronna said as they all piled unceremoniously into the room. “And the news has picked up on what Vinick said last night about the Congressman’s lack of foreign policy experience - he’s quoted as saying that he doesn’t believe that if elected, Matthew Santos would make the right decisions over the situation in Kazakhstan.”

Josh was still standing by the door feeling aggrieved. The polls would be opening on the East Coast in something over two hours and there was very little any of them could do in that time to address or refute Vinick’s comments. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he let go of the door and ambled back into the room, pulling a pair of jeans off the back of a chair on his way to the bathroom to finish dressing, realizing discontentedly that Ronna and the others looked like they were settling in for the rest of the night. Morning. Josh gave his head a brisk shake and pursed his lips.

Well, that was predictable.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

“Your face is frozen in an odd way.”

“Unattractively?”

“Not entirely.”

Josh wondered whether he was correctly assessing the situation, because it had really sounded for second or two back there as though Donna was flirting with him. But she couldn’t be. Could she? Numbers were swimming before his eyes, some of them making no sense whatsoever – and Donna picked now to flirt with him? He continued scanning the page, trying to work out what wasn’t right here; something was wrong, some of these numbers shouldn’t be –

“I think my head’s gonna explode.”

This was ridiculous. Something wasn’t right here. It was still raining in Massachussets, despite Otto’s assertions, voter turnout in Vermont was still far lower than it should have been by now and according to the the exit polls from Georgia, Louisiana, Virginia – they were actually playing in the South –

Had it been like this on the last two election days? Had he felt as though he was on a never-ending rollercoaster, been this much of a mass of nerves and adrenaline? He found he just couldn’t remember. All he could see was a mess of numbers that didn’t add up, a pile of data that didn’t make sense and –

He realized Donna was saying something. He could see her casting surreptitious glances at him out of the corner of his eye, thought he heard the words ‘de-stress’ and ‘next numbers’ and something about taking a walk through the never ending clamor in his head, continuing to look down at the sheaf of papers in his hand as if staring at them would somehow stop the numbers jumping around on the page and force them to make sense. But that wasn’t working either. It was as if the fates were conspiring against him to –

What?

Did he want to – what?

Josh just stood there, rooted to the spot. She wanted – what? If he hadn’t been able to think straight before, now it was far worse. He couldn’t see the numbers at all; all he could think about was last night, Donna in his bed, arching her back, spreading her legs for him; and all he could hear above the ringing in his ears was her voice – “want to take a walk – or… something?”

He hadn’t misheard. Donna had just propositioned him.

His head jerked up, as suddenly stirred into action, he scanned the room for her. Surely she hadn’t left already? No - there she was, standing in the doorway talking to someone whose name he was damned if he could remember (not that he cared). She was pointing something out in the data – and the look on her face as she glanced across the room at him pushed all thoughts of exit polls from Josh’s mind. He put the numbers down slowly on a nearly desk and watched Donna walk from the room, briefly savoring the sway of her hips, the movement of her hair about her shoulders, reminded of the way she’d walked away from him last night and where it had led and - he really needed to get out of there.

Josh glanced around – everyone in the room appeared to be engrossed in – well, something; phones were ringing, people were bustling about, all with intent, it seemed, yet he felt as though he was at the eye of a hurricane, watching the chaos around him unfold from a position of relative calm.

Heading out of the room, he paused briefly on the threshold – and saw Donna come to a stop at the door to her room at the end of the hallway and hesitate for a couple of seconds before pulling out her key. Josh walked up to her quickly, and with a swift glance to either side, put his hand to her elbow and turned her from the door, walking them to stand at the elevator.

She looked at him questioningly and leaned in to murmur, “My room’s closer.”

Josh flicked a glance at her – then stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked down at the carpet. “Yeah, but yours is only feet away from - ” he stopped and cleared his throat. “I mean I don’t want anyone to overhear – uh - ” he scratched the back of his head, the idea that they were about to do something that might get noisy setting his pulse racing. He found himself breathing a little faster, and noted with interest that Donna seemed to be having a similar reaction. Straightening up, he smiled lopsidedly at her, taking in the slight acceleration of the rise and fall of her chest as she licked her lips and looked at him from under her eyelashes in a way that could only be described as seductive, holding his gaze almost challengingly as she pressed the button for the elevator.

Unlike the previous night, it seemed to arrive almost immediately and they stepped inside, Donna reaching nonchalantly across him to press the button for his floor. He could hear her slightly uneven breathing, see the delicate flush on her cheeks, smell her hair as it brushed across his shoulder – and he couldn’t wait. With a low groan, he backed her into the wall as soon as the doors were closed, feeling her hands clutching at his shoulders as he captured her lips, leaning into her and pressing their bodies together as closely as possible. She whimpered, opening her mouth to him eagerly, bringing one leg up and around his thigh as he pushed his hips into hers, his rapidly growing erection pressing urgently against her lower belly. Resting one hand on the wall by her head, he leaned into her further and ran his other hand up her side under her jacket to cup her breast, gratified when she gasped into his mouth and began to kiss him back harder, her tongue dancing around his. She curled a hand around the nape of his neck and scratched lightly, slid the other down his back – and lower, and - oh, God, Donna had her hand on his ass and was grinding herself against him and gasping and moaning and his head had emptied of everything else – where they were, what day it was, everything but Donna; and if the elevator didn’t arrive soon there was a serious possibility he’d have to stop the damn thing and take her right there against the wall.

Fortunately for his already waning self-control, the elevator chose just then to come to a halt and it was with no small effort that Josh pushed himself upright and away from Donna as the doors opened. The look on her face nearly undid him; her eyes dark and unfocussed, her lips moist and slightly parted… she looked – there was no other word for it – hungry.

The jolt of arousal that coursed through his body was almost enough to knock the wind from his lungs. He sucked in a shaky breath, hastily untucked his shirt and grinned at Donna’s knowing smirk while he looked up and down the hallway before grabbing her hand and leading her in the direction of his room.

Josh opened the door and followed her inside, watching her take off her jacket and drape it across a chair as the door clicked softly shut behind him. He’d barely had time to throw his keycard onto the dresser before she’d turned, wrapped one arm about his neck and pressed her long, warm, body to his, kissing him passionately while her other hand slid across his chest to the buttons of his shirt. Without breaking the kiss, she began to undo them swiftly until she got to the last few when she pulled away and stepped back to finish the job, pushing the garment from his shoulders. Josh shrugged out of it and dropped it onto the bed watching Donna worrying at her lower lip with her teeth as she ran her eyes over him.

He recalled the way she’d looked at him last night, and how it had felled him completely – he couldn’t remember ever having felt more aroused as she’d fixed him with that calm, knowing look – “No,” when she’d told him in no uncertain terms that it wasn’t another drink she wanted.

But now… the look on her face was less guarded, more open, as she stepped close again and ran her hands across his chest and shoulders while he lifted her sweater, his fingers itching to reacquaint themselves with the softness of her skin. She helped him to take it off and he dropped it to the floor, sliding his hands up her arms and across her shoulders to her neck, so that he could caress her cheeks with his thumbs.

Josh watched her close her eyes and lean into his touch, turning her head to press a kiss to his palm. Her mouth was hot, her tongue flicking lightly against his skin and he slid his fingers into her hair, burying his face in the crook of her neck and groaned when he felt her nails raking lightly across his shoulders. She’d showered and changed, but he could still smell her, the lingering fragrance of her shampoo, her soap, whatever it was, but most of all, just her, just - Donna. She was trailing her hand up and down his spine, her head tilted enticingly … and there was nothing for it but to kiss the milky expanse of her throat.

She moaned as his lips visited the sensitive flesh there, gasping when he flicked his tongue over the sensitive spots he’d discovered last night. Wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders, Donna pulled herself as close to him as possible, so close that Josh was sure he could feel her heart beating, feel the rise and fall of her chest as it accelerated against him. Then she twisted her hips slightly, rubbing herself against his cock which was already hard and straining against his pants; and he groaned into her skin, moving a hand to her lace-covered breast, feeling the nipple rise through the fabric and her nails digging in to his back as she sighed, her breath hot against his ear. He brushed her nipple again, trailing open-mouthed kisses across her cheek, and felt her fingers stroking lightly up and down his neck as his mouth reached hers, her response as he pushed his tongue past her lips both immediate and passionate. They kissed, long and hard, until, with a nibble at his bottom lip and more than slightly out of breath, Donna pulled back so that she could take off her pants, then reached behind to undo her bra. She slipped the straps down her arms, let it fall onto the chair next to her - and all Josh could do was stare. He knew she was beautiful – he’d always known it; and he’d seen all of her last night - but now, in daylight, the weak, late fall sun behind her, shafts of light bathing her in a pale glow and surrounding her almost with a halo of light … she took his breath away.

The sound of her voice brought him back to earth.

“Josh?”

His head whipped up to find her smiling at him, flirtatiously.

“Hm?”

She cocked her head to the side. “Come here. Unless you really do want to go for a walk?”

He blinked. “Huh? – oh - ” His feet seemed rooted to the spot and he found himself unable to take his eyes off her as she walked over to him instead. She rubbed her palm lightly across his chest, traced the line of his scar with a fingertip and, flashing him a look of pure lasciviousness, continued her progress down his body, her eyes never leaving his as she pushed his boxers down his hips, freeing his erection as she slid the shorts down his legs until he could step out of them and kick them aside.

He’d barely had time to do that when he felt her warm breath on his cock and before he could do, say or even think anything, she’d dropped to her knees, wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft and was placing soft, wet kisses to the head before flicking her tongue around it and taking him into the warmth of her mouth.

Josh thought, for a few brief seconds, that he might fall over. “God, Donna -” he managed to croak, finally, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back, savoring the feeling of her lips closed tightly around him as she sank down, then pulled back to do it again, her tongue swirling lazily over the tip. He groaned and opened his eyes, looking down at her blonde head as it moved slowly up and down, his hips beginning to move of their own volition - and then, through the haze of arousal in his head, realized he’d have more to worry about than losing his balance if she carried on doing that for much longer.

“Donna.” He ran his fingers into her hair and cupped her head, stilling her movements. She released him and placed a soft, butterfly kiss to the inside of his thigh, then looked up and shot him with a saucy grin; and he pulled her to her feet and kissed her hungrily, shuffling them closer to the bed so that he could pull her down onto it with him. When they parted, Donna sat and scooted back onto the pillows and Josh rolled to the other side and opened the drawer of the nightstand, reaching inside to take out a condom which he threw onto the pillow. He lay on his side next to her and propped himself up on his elbow, using his free hand to caress the expanse of her stomach, her breasts, down to her thigh – anywhere he could reach. He settled one leg between hers, felt her hook her ankle over his calf… then they were kissing again, her hands in his hair, on his back, his arms, all over him, it seemed – her touch igniting him as he pushed his tongue deeper into her mouth and began to rock his hips gently against her. Her sex was pressed against his thigh and he could feel her heat through the thin cotton of her underwear; her fingers, trailing up and down his spine, her nails scratching lightly at the dip at the top of his buttocks were driving him crazy and she was making little sounds in the back of her throat that he found almost unbearably erotic – and as Josh pulled back from the kiss, both of them needing air, it hit him again that he was in bed with Donna. His Donna; hot, breathless and wanting him.

He stared down at her, awestruck, then cupped her breast in one hand and bent his head to kiss the soft, plump flesh before taking her nipple into his mouth, flicking the hardened bud with his tongue. Donna moaned and arched her back and Josh swept his hand across to caress her other breast, pinching, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She pushed herself against his thigh and moaned louder as he slid his hand down her body, working his fingers under the band of her underwear and moving the leg that was between hers to give himself better access to her sex. As soon as he touched her, her hips jerked upwards and her head flopped back onto the pillow, eyes closed, lips parted, her tongue darting out to moisten them. He peeled the panties down her legs as far as he could and she helped him get them the rest of the way off, kicking them from her feet so they landed God knows where. Returning his hand to her mound, Josh dragged a finger along her folds, delighted to discover just how wet for him she was already - and they hadn’t really done all that much yet.

He felt her tense with anticipation as he dipped his tongue into her navel and smiled to himself at the sound of her throaty chuckle; then looked up and asked - “You okay?” as he started to probe her entrance with one finger, seeking out her clit with his thumb.

Donna lifted her head and smiled back at him. “Oh, yeah,” she breathed, letting her head fall back as he found and pressed lightly against that sensitive bundle of nerves and slid a finger into her moist heat.

She’d not been exactly quiet the night before, but now it seemed as though she’d abandoned any attempt to control the noises she was making. She was gasping, sighing, moaning… and he loved all of it, loved knowing she was enjoying what he was doing to her and that she wanted him to know it. He’d never really understood those men who didn’t like women to be loud in bed - he’d always found it a real turn on, and God, it was glorious - she was glorious, lying there, all long limbs and porcelain skin that rose and dipped in all the right places; and much as Josh wanted – needed – to be inside her, to fill her and feel her, tight and wet around him again, he realized he also wanted to take the time to appreciate her properly, to do what there hadn’t been time for the night before. He wanted to make her come, to push her to the limit of her endurance and then watch her as she toppled over the edge.

He kissed his way across her stomach, down to her hip, to the inside of her thigh, listening to the way her breathing became harsher and faster whenever he did something she seemed to particularly like. He placed his palms against her thighs and gently nudged her legs further apart, taking a few seconds to inhale her sharp, musky scent before he flattened his tongue against her folds and began to lick her slowly, thoroughly, exploring her, tasting her, her flavor heavy against the roof of his mouth. He thrust his tongue inside her and her hips arched off the bed, one of her hands settling on his head, her nails scratching at his scalp. God, Josh… don’t… don’t stop… she was half-whispering, half-moaning his name – her hips were moving rhythmically against his mouth and he slid two fingers inside her, flicked his tongue against her clit, teased it out and then closed his lips around the sensitive little nub, listening to the increased tempo of her cries as they became higher pitched. Hearing her like this, smelling her arousal, tasting it, feeling her muscles tightening around his fingers, Josh felt his own need building and knew he wouldn’t be able to wait much longer to bury himself inside of her. He sped up the movements of his hand and mouth, quickly rewarded as Donna’s moans and whimpers turned into a cry of release and her hips jerked frantically against him as she came, a rush of wetness coating his lips.

When her movements had ceased, he placed one last open-mouthed kiss to her sex and lifted his head to look at her, one arm thrown over her head, her breasts still heaving. He kissed his way up her body, running his tongue over and around first one rosy nipple, then the other, moving up to nip at her collarbone and trail his lips up and down her neck. Then Donna took his head in her hands and drew him to her for a kiss, swiping her tongue across his lips and plunging it into his mouth, her hands sweeping tantalizingly across his skin.

She kissed her way around to his ear, ran her tongue around the top and nipped at the lobe. Josh shuddered, closed his eyes and groaned, barely able to summon the presence of mind to reach for the condom. He turned onto his back, tore open the foil packet and rolled it on as Donna rose to her knees and then straddled him, flipping her hair back over her shoulder as she kissed her way across his chest, tonguing his nipples, trailing her nails lightly up and down his side and smiling when he hissed as she hit a sensitive spot. He could feel the heat of her damp curls against his stomach as she slid a little further down, positioning herself so that his cock was pressing against her opening. But she didn’t go any further, continuing to kiss her way across his body, stimulating herself and teasing him with her wet folds until he couldn’t stand it any more and grabbed her hips, entering her with one forceful, upward thrust.

They both gasped in shock and pleasure - and Donna wasted no time, leaning forward to grip his shoulders as she started to undulate on top of him, finding a position and a rhythm she liked. He stared up at her, taking in the gentle flush on her skin, the smoldering look in her eyes, her blissful expression … and slid his hands under the cheeks of her ass, then round to her hips and up her body to cup her breasts, soft, plump and perfect, lifting his head so that he could take a nipple into his mouth. She moaned in pleasure; God, Josh… oh…yes… and he began to pump up into her, moving his hands back to her hips, helping to guide her movements. He could feel his excitement mounting, the hot, slippery friction around his cock sending sparks of pleasure shooting up and down his spine; could hear himself grunting with exertion as he lengthened his strokes, the slapping of skin on skin, Donna’s harsh breathing and moans of arousal as she continued to impale herself on him. He snaked his hand between them, seeking her clit once more – he was close to coming and he wanted, desperately wanted, to bring her with him, to feel her clenching and rippling around his cock… finding the engorged nub, he began to rub it with his thumb and Donna responded immediately, throwing back her head and moaning even louder, then starting to emit a series of short, high pitched cries and Oh, Gods - even, he was gratified to hear, his name on several occasions.

She leaned down to kiss him passionately, frantically, as she increased the speed of her movements, whimpering, almost shrieking into his mouth; her nails were digging into his shoulders as Josh continued to thrust up into her with short, hard strokes, her slick passage caressing him as he slid in and out of her, her hands on his face, his neck, in his hair… they continued to kiss, her tongue plunging into his mouth mimicking the rhythm of his cock, as he plunged into her over and over. He nipped at her tongue, sucked it into his mouth, his control hanging by a thread when suddenly, she pulled her lips from his, their rhythm long since gone, leaving only desperation. She let out a high-pitched wail and Josh pulled her down and flush against him at the same time as he bucked his hips upward so that he was deep inside her, feeling her start to spasm around him as she screamed her release into his shoulder. He felt heat flooding his body, the exquisite sensation of Donna’s muscles convulsing around his cock triggering his own orgasm and he drove himself up into her forcefully once, twice, three times, her name bursting from his lips as he shuddered to his climax inside her. Donna lifted her head and pressed her mouth to his, swallowing his final grunts and moans as he stopped twitching beneath her until, panting hard, she collapsed on top of him and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

Josh put his arms around her, stroking her hair with one hand and her back with the other. He didn’t know how long they lay like that, both of them fighting to catch their breath, but he was softening inside her and knew they’d have to move soon. Turning his head, he pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek. “Donna – I have to - ”

She lifted her head, her eyes still slightly glazed, a couple of strands of hair falling across her face. Josh smiled and pushed them back tenderly, his fingers brushing across the silky skin of her throat. Donna smiled back, then carefully lifted herself and settled on her side next to him. He sighed at the loss of her warmth, then leaned over and placed a light kiss to her shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” he promised - and she nodded, lazily.

Josh scooted to the edge of the bed, stood and headed into the bathroom to take care of the condom. He did what he needed to, washed his hands, reached for the toothpaste and flipped the lid – pausing when he remembered the look on Donna’s face that morning - and picked up the brush too. He scrubbed briefly, worried that he’d go back into the bedroom to find Donna getting dressed, the woman he’d just had pretty raucous sex with replaced once more by the ultra-cool, type-a career woman with which he’d been confronted that morning. He spat and rinsed, looked at himself in the mirror and took a deep breath. If Donna was half dressed, then that would mean that at least she was half undressed and he’d find a way to undress her again and persuade her to come back to bed. She definitely seemed to enjoy having sex with him, and if that was what it would take to keep her here with him for a little longer, then he certainly wasn’t going to object.

He opened the door and stepped out, turning to pull it closed behind him.

And, he thought, if she wanted to –

He stopped and tried very hard not to grin like a complete dork – because Donna wasn’t lying on the bed any more. And she wasn’t half dressed. She’d settled herself into the bed and was pummeling a pillow before turning onto her back and pulling the covers up to her chin.

Well. That was – promising.

Josh managed to stop himself practically skipping to his side of the bed – he’d probably have tripped over something on the way, as well as looking pretty stupid – and slid in next to her.

He inched a little closer - and Donna glanced down, smoothed her hand across the sheet and snuggled in a little further.

Josh blew out a contented sigh and folded his arms behind his head.

“Do you want some water?”

End.

Fooling Around Part One (PG)

Tue, 16 Dec 2008 21:38:48 GMT

Fooling Around Part Two (PG)

Tue, 16 Dec 2008 21:37:37 GMT

Disclaimers, notes etc. in Part One.

Fooling Around - Part Two

By lunchtime, Donna had received another visit from Bonnie – ostensibly to deliver another message from Will (although he was over at the OEOB), a visit from Ginger (with a message from Toby, who was at the OEOB with Will), one from Susanne in the Counsel’s Office, one from Ed’s assistant, Jillian – or maybe she was Larry’s assistant – one from Ellen on the switchboard and one from Deborah who worked in the Mess – all of them on some ridiculous pretext or other.

None of them asked any direct questions, of course, and at first, Donna had been amused by the way they tried to find out if the rumors they’d heard that day were true without actually asking her outright… but after the third game of ‘ask me no questions…’ she was beginning to get a little impatient and wished someone would just come out and ask. Then she’d be able to smile mysteriously and blush and stammer a little and generally act flustered while not actually confirming or denying anything. But so far all there had been were dropped hints, knowing looks and a ridiculous-looking ‘thumbs-up’ from one of the guys in the mail-room. So when, after she’d just finished her lunch, Donna felt someone else ‘hovering’ behind her, she was tempted to ignore them in the hope they’d go away; and pretended to be immersed in whatever the hell report it was she’d opened on her desk in the hopes that they’d either think she was busy and leave, or that they’d actually come to talk to her about something else.

“Donna?”

At the sound of Margaret’s voice, she looked up and turned around; what she hoped was a welcoming smile plastered to her face. “Margaret. What do you need?”

“Nothing.” Margaret shook her head and then looked around before she moved to rest against the edge of the desk just to Donna’s left. “I just… “ she glanced around again and then leaned down conspiratorially. “I just wanted to let you know I’ve got your back,” she said, her expression deadly serious.

Donna widened her eyes in surprise. “I don’t - ” she began, her manner carefully innocent.

Margaret inclined her head in the direction of the door to Josh’s office and then gave Donna a knowing look. “You don’t have to say anything – and if Leo asks me, I don’t know a thing.”

Donna forced herself to keep a straight face. “Okay.”

The red-head nodded and leaned back just as Josh opened his door and walked out of his office. She offered him a huge smile at which he stopped dead in this tracks, looking mildly horror-struck before he grinned back nervously. “How you doin’?”

“Fine, thank you. Leo said to tell you ten minutes.”

“’kay.” He stared at her a second or two longer, then walked into Donna’s cubicle. “Do you have the notes for the - ”

She held out a file wordlessly, without looking up. “Thank you,” Josh mumbled as he turned away and started to sift through the papers in it.

“By the way, Donna,” Margaret said with a mischievous smile. “Nice shirt.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Donna could see that Josh seemed engrossed in his reading. “Oh, it’s one of Josh’s,” she said carelessly, noticing his shoulders stiffen slightly; but he didn’t turn or make any other sign that he was listening – although she knew perfectly well that he taking in every word.

“Really?”

“Yeah, my klutz of a b- boss spilled cold coffee down me at br – this morning, so I had to borrow it.”

Donna ignored the somewhat strangled sound coming from her right and concentrated instead on Margaret, who was nodding, knowingly. “Men.”

“Yeah.” Donna glanced at Josh again and then yawned widely and stretched. “Sorry,” she smiled weakly. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

There was a thump and a whoosh of papers.

“Josh!” Donna jumped up. “Could you be any more of a - ?”

He squatted down hastily to help Donna retrieve the contents of the folder which were now scattered haphazardly over the floor of her cubicle and parts of the corridor. “It’s not my … it was – you - ” he hissed as Donna glared at him – and he almost banged his head on the desk when he jerked back at the brush of her hand across his knee as she reached across him to pick up the folder.

“Honestly, Josh - ”

“Okay,” both of them looked up at Margaret’s emphatic cough. “Well – I’m going now.”

“’kay,” Donna mumbled absently, dropping her gaze back to the pages in her hand, re-ordering them as she put them back into the folder. “Where’s the..?” she looked from side to side quickly, then “ah,” as she clearly found what she wanted. Before Josh could move out of the way, Donna had stretched herself out across his legs, grabbed the errant piece of paper and then clutched his thigh to steady herself as she pushed herself back to her previous position.

“Uh – Donna?” he croaked.

“What?”

And then his mouth went dry as she crawled past him on all fours to fetch the papers that had strayed onto the floor between the cubicle and his office.

Josh squeezed his eyes shut and deliberately banged his head a few times on the desk behind him.

“What the hell are you doing?”

His eyes flew open to see Donna standing over him, holding out her hand. “Up. You’re making the floor look untidy.”

He took her hand and got to his feet. “Ha. Just don’t give up the day job.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “As if I could. You’d be lost without me.”

Josh smiled almost shyly. “I would,” he said softly – and Donna was surprised to note that there wasn’t a trace of irony or sarcasm in his words. She was even more surprised to realize that he hadn’t let go of her hand. His was warm and firm, and even though her mind was screaming at her to pull away from his grasp, break the sudden tension between them with a witty comeback - she couldn’t do it. She swallowed and looked up – but Josh’s head was bowed, giving her time to study his face; the laughter lines around his eyes, the small indents on his cheeks that became those utterly disarming dimples when he smiled, his mouth… Just as she told herself that really was enough of that, Josh’s thumb brushed across the back of her hand a couple of times, making her breathing hitch and her insides flip-flop - then abruptly, he released her and took a step back.

“I – uh,” his eyes were fixed firmly on the floor as he ran a hand through his hair. Donna schooled her expression quickly, but he didn’t look up at her; he just turned and without saying another word, walked back into his office and sat down behind his desk.

Donna couldn’t make her feet move. She stood rooted to the spot, sure that her mouth must be hanging open in shock, her mind once more whirling in confusion. Just what the hell was going on with him – with them – today? The ringing of the phone in the cubicle next to hers brought her back to earth; she took a deep breath, grabbed the file and her notepad, forced herself to put one foot in front of the other - and followed Josh into the office. She knew what she had to do. They’d written this script long ago and it was what they did whenever they had an odd moment. They ignored it and moved on.

Donna stuck a post-it on the top of the folder and put it down in front of him. “You need to talk to Draper at the OMB about that – and the meeting starts in,” she looked at her watch, “five minutes.”

Josh leaned forward and picked up the note. “’kay.”

Donna chewed on her bottom lip. “Okay. Well…” and turned to leave just as Toby appeared in the doorway.

“You going to the thing?” he asked, nodding perfunctorily to Donna as she left the room.

Josh dragged his gaze away from her retreating form and turned his attention to the man standing in front of him. “Yeah.”

Toby stood by the door quietly for a couple of seconds, considering… and then closed it and walked to stand in front of Josh’s desk.

“I want it known that what I’m about to say denotes no interest whatsoever in either you or your personal life.”

Josh looked up at him, amused. “Okay.”

“Just - ”

“What?”

Toby nodded emphatically towards the door. “Don’t screw it up.”

Josh stood up and began to roll down his sleeves. “Your faith in me – as ever - is touching. Wait.” He paused and turned, frowning. “Screw what up?”

Toby shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “You know what,” he said quietly. “You don’t deserve her, but for some unfathomable reason she’s chosen to ignore that fact and seems to actually, you know, like you despite everything, so just…”

Josh pretended to look for something on his desk while he tried hard not to smile at the fact that Toby – of all people - was offering him relationship advice. The fact that the relationship didn’t really exist just made it all the more – Josh’s train of thought derailed abruptly as he finally took in what Toby had actually said.

Donna – liked him? As in..?

His movements stilled. “Despite everything?” he said when he felt he could safely look up.

Toby just raised his eyebrows. “Besides – I like her. So don’t screw up, okay?”

Josh shrugged into his jacket, and grinned at Toby as though he were humoring a crazy person. “Okay.”

Toby opened the door and led the way back out into the bullpen. “I’ll be there in a minute,” Josh said, then turned and walked back to Donna’s cubicle.

He propped himself against the frame and folded his arms. “Hey.”

“Hi.” She smiled up at him innocently.

“Didn’t get a lot of sleep?”

Her eyes widened. “It’s true. There was a party upstairs that didn’t finish till about two. ”

“Ah. Well I guess the best lies are those that are closest to the truth.”

She shrugged. “I’ve always thought so,” and turned back to her computer screen.

Josh walked up behind her chair and laying both his hands on her shoulders, leaned down so that his lips were level with her ear. “And I’ve always wondered,” he said suggestively, brushing aside a strand of her hair, “what you look like when you’ve been … kept awake half the night.”

Donna swallowed hard and sat completely still, not trusting herself to speak. What the hell was he doing? For all that they mock-flirted and traded innuendo, Josh had never spoken to her in that tone of voice before. She felt herself flushing – it was either that or someone had just turned up the heat in there – as he pulled back slightly and said in a more normal tone - “That’s how you thread the needle, Donna.”

Still unable to trust her voice, she turned to face him, knowing he’d be wearing that self-satisfied smirk of his that always tore her in two - because while half of her wanted to smack it off his face, the other half wanted to kiss it off very, very slowly…

Donna stared into the depths of his eyes and bit her lip, seeing an indefinable expression flash across his face just before he flicked his gaze up and over her head. “Hey, CJ.”

Damn, he was good. Wondering just how long CJ had been standing there – probably long enough to have witnessed that little performance - Donna cleared her throat as Josh straightened up, then watched as he grinned brazenly at the Press Secretary before he turned and sauntered away with what was definitely more than the usual amount of spring in his step. And although Donna could feel CJ’s eyes on her, she was unable to do anything other than stare after him as he walked along the corridor and out of the bullpen through the swing doors.

She sighed. It was typical of Josh to do something like that and then leave her to face the consequences. And it wasn’t as if any of this had been her idea in the first place –

“Donna?”

- oh, no, trust Josh to come up with something so completely -

“Donna?”

- and utterly ludicrous that –

“Earth to Donna!”

“Hm?”

“I’ve got the…” CJ began and then stopped with a sigh. “You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?”

Donna whipped her head around to find her friend regarding her with a resigned smile. “I – sorry. What?”

CJ walked around to the side of the desk and leaned on it, her other hand resting on her hip.

“You know, there are times I really think I should just make a recorded message and play it to all of you at regular intervals. I’m your first phone call!” She straightened up and folded her arms, fixing Donna with an intense stare. “So, spill. It’s happened, hasn’t it?”

Donna was momentarily confused. “What’s happened?”

“The Josh thing. It’s happened.”

Oh, that.

“The… Josh thing?”

CJ raised an eyebrow. “Yes. Josh. And you. You and Josh, you’re …”

“What?” Donna had been waiting all day for someone to actually ask her ‘the question’ – and now it had come to it, she temporarily forgot all about the April Fool and followed her instinct – denial. “No, no nononono, of course not. That would be extremely unprof- wait.” This wasn’t at all the reaction she’d expected. “You’re not mad?”

CJ chuckled. “Why would I be mad?”

“I don’t know,” Donna frowned. “I mean, I just thought - ”

“Okay,” the other woman continued, tilting her head to the side, “so maybe it’s not the best idea in the world, and I can see how some people would paint it - but hell, everyone around here knows the truth. I can deal with the few who don’t; and as for the rest… well, they don’t matter.”

Donna stared at her in shock. “What do you mean, ‘everyone here knows the truth’?”

CJ looked at her as though she was an idiot. “That it’s not some sort of sleazy affair.”

“That’s not all it isn’t,” Donna muttered under her breath. “And,” she continued, looking up, “just how does ‘everyone’ know that?”

CJ threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, Donna, all anyone’s had to do is look at the two of you for the past few years to know that. It’s – pretty obvious.”

“Obvious?” Donna said quietly, feeling her stomach plummet. She’d worked so hard to keep Josh – or anyone else for that matter – from figuring out exactly how she felt about him and the thought that maybe she’d not fooled anyone was enough to make her feel as though her heart had leapt into her throat.

But CJ was smiling at her indulgently. “Yeah. You’re nuts about him, he’s crazy about you.” She gave an elegant shrug. “I guess it was bound to happen sometime. Personally, I think you deserve a medal for putting up with him.”

Donna smiled weakly. But then she registered what CJ had just said and her smile widened until she was sure she must be grinning like an imbecile.

“It’s obvious he’s – crazy about me?”

“He hasn’t said..?” CJ rolled her eyes. “Men. But it’s there in the way he looks at you when he thinks nobody’s looking, the way he talks about you – oh, he has no idea anyone’s noticed, but then he’s a complete nincompoop.”

“Nincompoop? Have you been talking to Bernard again?”

CJ chuckled. “Oh, God, spare me from eccentric Englishmen. Except John Marbury. He’s kinda cute. And he calls me - ”

Donna grinned. “Principessa – I know.”

“Seriously, Donna,” CJ said after a short pause. “It’s not going to be a problem. What you two have - it’s rare. Rarer still in a place like this, and Josh… well, he might be like my worst nightmare at times, but he deserves to be happy. And so do you.”

Donna didn’t know what to say. She’d expected a visit from a rather angry CJ at some point during the day, during which she and Josh would have to confess to the joke and then take a well deserved dressing down about idiotic, ill-conceived ideas and juvenile humor. In her head, she could even hear CJ yelling that she’d have expected Donna to have known better - although oddly, she didn’t say anything in that particular scenario about having expected better from Josh.

But this… Donna cleared her throat awkwardly, feeling suddenly guilty about deceiving her friend; while in the same second telling herself it was stupid to feel that way about what was, after all, nothing more than a foolish prank.

Before she could stop herself however, she blurted out - “There’s something you should - ” only to be cut off abruptly by the ringing of the phone. Frustrated and relieved at the same time, she snatched up the receiver. “Josh Lyman.”

CJ stood up and put a memo on the desk. “Okay, well… I just came to - ”

Donna nodded as CJ smiled briefly and left.

“No, I’m sorry,” she said, relieved to have something else to claim her attention, “he’s not available right now. Can I have him get back to you?”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

When Josh came back an hour or so later, Donna handed him his messages and gave him time to return the most urgent calls before she got up and walked slowly towards his office.

She hesitated by the door for a couple of seconds – and then stepped inside, closing it softly behind her.

“I was wondering,” Donna began, still mindful of her earlier conversation with CJ, “when you were planning to come clean. You know. About the … joke thing.”

Josh dropped his pen onto the desk and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I hadn’t really thought about it. But I guess if we tell Margaret, it’ll be all over the building in about five minutes.”

Donna pretended to be shocked. “You really shouldn’t be so mean about the people who work here.”

“We’re talking about the woman who nearly brought the place to a standstill over a muffin recipe,” he grinned. “I don’t think I’m making too much of a leap, here.”

Donna snorted. “Probably not. But I still feel a bit mean, after what she said.”

Josh’s eyebrows shot up. “Which was?”

“That she had our backs and she’d deny all knowledge if Leo asked about,” she waved a hand in the air between them, “you know.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And I thought it was sweet.”

Josh shrugged. “’kay,” and again recalled his brief conversation with Toby before the meeting. Surely he, of all people, couldn’t have fallen for their little charade? Josh thought it was far more likely that he’d remembered the date, put two and two together and was just messing with him as usual. But try as he might, Josh couldn’t squash down the tiny spark of hope that had leapt to life in his chest at the idea that Donna might - like him. Which was such a ridiculous euphemism.

Yet despite that...

He couldn’t stop thinking about the way her breathing had sped up when he’d leaned over to whisper in her ear earlier, the unmistakable blush that had crept across her cheeks, the look on her face after she’d helped him up, the smooth warmth of her skin as her hand had rested in his… and knew he had to do – something – to find out if there was even the slightest possibility that she did – like him, like him.

Josh sighed. And fought the impulse to roll his eyes at himself for sounding like a complete idiot.

After what felt like a long pause, Donna spoke again. “You know - I’m amazed people actually fell for it.”

Josh considered her as she sat in front of him, her chin resting on her hand, eyes unfocussed on a point somewhere in the distance – and came to a decision. He glanced briefly at her, then leaned back in his chair and looked up. “I’m not.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her head whip up. “What? Why?”

He continued to study the ceiling, his theory being that it would be easier to go through with this if he wasn’t actually looking at Donna. That way, it would be less awkward if he had to pull things back and turn it into a joke if she didn’t react the way he hoped she would. “Well,” he said, in a carefully casual tone, “the best pranks are usually the ones which appear to have at least some basis in reality, or which aren’t completely beyond the realm of possibility.”

“Really?” She narrowed her eyes.

Not completely beyond the realm of possibility?

What he hell was he talking about?

Josh didn’t move. “Yes. And as we’re, uh,” he cleared his throat, eyes still fixed on a point above his head, “well, you’re a – and I’m a – I guess it’s not out of the question that we could be – uh - ”

Despite her confusion, Donna found herself having to fight back a smile at that. For all that Josh was an incredibly articulate man most of the time, at others he could be ridiculously tongue-tied.

“Well,” she shrugged, her studied nonchalance at odds with the way her mind was racing as she tried to unscramble her thoughts, “whatever the reason, it appears to have worked.”

She saw the corner of his mouth quirk up into a smile. “It did. But then, you know what they say. Ergo – um - something hoc – damn, I never can remember that one.”

Donna’s eyes flew open wide and for a split second she was convinced she’d forgotten how to breathe. Had he really just said..? It sounded as though Josh had just said that nobody was surprised at the way they’d been acting today because it was plausible that they were actually… together. Or because people thought she and Josh were actually together and their behaviour today had just confirmed their suspicions. She continued to stare at him as it began to dawn on her that in a typically roundabout and bumfuzzled way, Josh had just put himself out there – and, she reasoned as she tried to regain her composure, it would be nothing less than bad manners if she didn’t at least return the favor. So she took a deep breath and said, “I think you mean, ‘Post hoc ergo propter hoc’,” in a quiet tone, her eyes focused on his profile as she willed him to understand that she was ‘out there’, too, standing right next to him.

Josh turned to look at her, finally – and for once, neither of them looked away. Donna held his gaze, feeling her pulse quicken at what she saw in his rich brown eyes; and for his part, Josh was sure he could see everything he’d ever wanted to see in hers. And more.

Donna felt almost dizzy with relief. He, surely, had to be the only man she’d ever met who could possibly have found a way to use an obscure Latin proverb as a way of telling a woman how he felt about her.

“You need to brush up on your Latin,” she observed, impishly. “You should talk to the President about that.”

Josh grinned back and stood abruptly. “God, no.” He walked around to the other side of the desk. “I’ll be in there for days and you’ll have to send out a search and rescue party.”

She arched a brow. “Personally, I find it rather awe-inspiring that our President knows so much about so many different subjects.”

Josh blinked. “It’s just plain weird, is what it is.”

“It’s not! It’s impressive, how he can still find time to - ”

He perched himself on the edge of the desk. “But then you would say that. You’re as bad as he is.”

Donna opened her mouth to reply, but Josh carried on regardless.

“Although you’re a lot nicer to look at.”

She snapped her mouth shut. It appeared that the President’s predilection for trivia wasn’t the only weird thing around there today.

Josh scratched the back of his head and pulled a face. “But you know what’s really weird?”

“No.”

“Today - didn’t feel weird.”

Donna frowned. “What do you - ”

“It didn’t feel weird,” Josh repeated softly. “We got closer than we usually do, we held hands,” then he cocked his head and smirked lopsidedly. “ - you crawled all over me -”

Donna thought he was looking entirely too pleased with himself. “I did no such - ”

“ - and I caught you checking out my - ”

“I did not!” she shot back indignantly, flushing deeply. “And even if I did – which I’m not saying is the case - you checked out mine.”

Josh shrugged. “Yeah, but I’ve always done that. People are used to it by now.”

“Josh!” Donna jumped to her feet.

“What?” Josh grinned mischievously. “I’m a guy, you’re a girl and you have a very, very nice a - ”

She fought back a smile. “Josh!”

“And it’s okay, you know,” he smirked. “You’re a modern woman – why shouldn’t you stare at a guy’s - ”

“I swear to God, Joshua, if you don’t shut up, I’ll - ”

He held up both hands and stood up. “Okay, okay. I won’t make you admit it if you don’t want to.”

She sighed resignedly. She might love him to the point of insanity, but there were times she could happily have strangled him.

But then he took a step closer and reached out to take her hand; and her mind was suddenly a complete blank.

“But you know what is going to feel weird?” he went on, all trace of his earlier teasing now vanished.

Donna swallowed and licked her lips. “No. What?”

Josh pulled her hand between both of his. “Not doing all those things tomorrow.”

His tone of voice started a host of butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. “It will?” she barely croaked.

He nodded, looking into her wide eyes, at her slightly parted lips – and forgot what he’d been about to say. “Yeah,” he breathed, eventually.

With an effort, Donna pulled her gaze from his. “I expected a real telling-off from CJ after that little performance of yours.”

Josh chuckled and looked down at their hands, turning them so that hers was palm up in his. “What did she say?”

He ran his thumb up and down her open palm and now it was Donna’s turn to feel a little tongue-tied. “She – um… said it was… okay… ”

“She didn’t threaten to castrate me or break my legs?”

“No, oddly.”

Josh threaded his fingers through hers, tugging her forward so that he could bring their hands to rest lightly against his chest.

Donna was finding it increasingly difficult to think or form complete sentences. She let out a ragged breath stared at their hands. “Did – uh - anyone say anything to you?”

Josh smiled softly. “Not really. Well, Ed and Larry said I was a lucky guy because you’re really - ” he stopped, frowning. “No, actually you don’t want to know what they said. And Toby told me not to screw up and reminded me that while he doesn’t like me, he likes you. I think he may have actually smiled at one point, but I wouldn’t want to go around ruining his reputation by casting aspersions like that.”

“No.” Donna looked up into his eyes. “So … people really think we’re – um… you know.”

“Yes.” Josh brought his other hand up and gently brushed her hair back over her shoulder. “And that we’ve been ‘you know’ for some time, apparently.”

Donna fought back a smile. “And neither of us has been struck down by lightning or the wrath of CJ.”

“Yeah.” He slid his hand down her arm and brought it to rest on her hip. “How ‘bout that?”

Donna lowered her gaze and said, in an off-hand tone, “CJ told me you were crazy about me, you know.”

Josh snorted. “She said what?”

“She said she could tell by the way you look at me, the way you talk about me …” she placed her free hand on his chest, just over his heart.

God, he’s warm. And really – firm. And –

Donna cleared her throat before she went on. “You’re not very subtle, apparently.”

“Hm?” Her proximity, the smell of her hair, the sensation of the curve of her hip resting against his palm… everything about her seemed to have short-circuited something in Josh’s brain and all he could seem to do was stare at the delicate rose and cream of her cheek.

Her fingers, moving lightly against his chest through the fabric of his shirt, brought him back from his Donna-induced trance. “I’m very subtle. She must have got that wrong.”

Donna looked up at him through her lashes. “I’m sure she hasn’t.” Which came out a lot more huskily than she’d intended.

Josh quirked his head to the side, his cheek muscles twitching as he fought back a grin. “CJ thinks I’m crazy about you, huh?”

“Oh,” Donna said airily, her gaze fixed firmly on the loosened knot in his tie, “it was more than ‘think’; she was very definite about it.”

“She was, was she?”

Donna nodded. “Very.”

“Well in that case,” Josh sniffed, “it’s only fair to tell you that Toby was also ‘very definite’ about the fact that you – how did he put it? - like me.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “Of course I like you, Josh. Do you think I’d have put up with you all this while if I didn’t?”

“No,” he corrected slowly, moving his hand from her hip until it was resting at the small of her back. “He meant that you like me, like me.”

She tried not to gasp aloud as Josh began to rub his thumb gently up and down. “Did he pass you a note in class?”

“You’re kidding me. A note from Toby would be the size of a briefing memo.”

“True.” She paused, trying to steady her breathing. “Still … I wonder where on earth he could have picked up an idea like that.”

“No idea,” Josh said, looking at her intently. “Shocked the hell out of me, is all I’m sayin’.”

Donna tugged at her lower lip with her teeth. “Although of course,” she sighed theatrically, “this is all academic because I don’t like you like you.”

“Of course.” Josh nodded, sliding a finger lightly up and down the placket of her – his – shirt. “And I’m not crazy about you.”

His knuckles brushing not-quite-accidentally across her collarbone sent what felt like a crackle of electricity through her and Donna almost jumped in shock.

Josh’s eyes were following the path his finger was taking - but he looked up at that, the slow smile spreading across his face telling Donna that he knew exactly the effect he was having on her. To her surprise though, she found she didn’t care. Finally, she could allow him to see what she’d had to conceal for so long and the relief of it was enough to make her head spin. And in any case it hadn’t escaped her notice that he was breathing a little faster than usual; she could see his jaw flexing lightly and she’d definitely heard a crack in his voice just now - all of which told her that he was just as affected by her as she was by him.

Josh rested his hand on the exposed skin at the base of her neck, a couple of fingers inching under her collar, his thumb lightly caressing the column of her throat. The fluttering in her stomach intensified as she sucked in a breath and slid her hand up his chest and around to his nape, winding her fingers into the thick hair there.

“Yet I find it hard to believe that CJ could be wrong about that, because she’s a very observant woman.”

He cupped her cheek in his palm, his voice low, soft. “And I find it hard to believe that Toby could be wrong. He might not be Doctor Phil, but he’s ... perceptive.”

“Yes, but he’s a man and men are notoriously bad about these things. I mean, he’s - ”

Josh bent his head and nuzzled her ear. “Donna.”

She closed her eyes and leaned into him, her next words prefaced by a slight moan.
“- not exactly the poster boy for understanding women, is he? What with - ”

“Donna.”

“- the situation with Andi and - what?”

Josh’s lips trailed warmly across her cheek. “Stop talking, now,” he whispered, pulling her in to him as she turned her head the fraction of an inch it needed for her to be able to press her lips to his.

He groaned and gathered her closer, one hand tangled in her hair, the other clamped firmly around her waist - and deepened the kiss, an electrical current seeming to ripple down his spine as she parted her lips beneath his, elated by the enthusiasm of her response. Her body was soft and pliant in his arms, her mouth under his was hot and sweet and so passionate, just like he’d always hoped – but better, far better because she was here, she was real, and he could touch her, taste her, smell her… He walked her back a couple of steps until she was pressed against the edge of the desk, ran his hand down until it was resting low on her back and then slid it around to her hip; she wound her arms more tightly around his neck and shoulders, and moaned into his mouth, kissing him back like she never wanted to stop. When they broke apart for air, he moved his mouth to her neck, pressing warm, wet kisses to the column of her throat, feeling her tilt her head to give him better access… she whispered his name – and Josh realized suddenly that if they didn’t stop soon, he was going to throw caution to the wind and the contents of the desk to the floor and –

“Donna.” Her hands were wandering, she was pressing soft, lingering kisses to his cheek, against his ear, but at the sound of her name, she pulled back slightly, an insanely seductive smile on her face that Josh thought was even better than anything he’d ever been able to imagine. Her eyes were wide and unfocussed, her lips, oh God, her lips were full and pink and – he bent his head – so kissable … once more - then reluctantly, he pulled away and dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose.

“We should – uh…”

She blinked – and removed her arms from around his neck. “Oh. Um – yes,” and began to smooth down her – his – shirt and skirt… but, he noted with just a hint of self-satisfaction, there was nothing she could do right at that moment to disguise the fact that she’d just been thoroughly kissed. Which Josh realized immediately was probably something he’d do better not to tell her if he ever wanted to put that look on her face again.

Donna took a deep breath as she straightened his tie and smoothed her hands across his shoulders – then smiled and took a step back out of the circle of his arms.

“Okay. Well.”

“Yes.”

“I’d better…” she nodded towards the door.

“Yes.”

But she didn’t move. Josh stuck his hands in his pockets and scuffed at the carpet. She’d just had her tongue in his mouth and her hands on his ass – this shouldn’t be so hard to say now. He cleared his throat. “Do you want to get some dinner?” Her forehead creased into a frown. “I mean, later. Not now, obviously.”

She nodded. “I’d like that.”

And now he knew he was grinning like an idiot. “Okay. So I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“You’re going to let me out of here before then?”

He shrugged as casually as he could. “It’s a special occasion. I’ll make an exception.”

Donna cocked her head and smiled coyly. “This doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten about the shoes, you know.”

“Didn’t doubt it for a minute.”

She walked to the door and then turned, remembering what it was she’d gone in there to ask him in the first place.

“Shouldn’t we tell everyone we’ve just been fooling around?”

Josh smirked. “Well, I don’t think we should tell them we’ve been fooling around in the office, but if you want to go home later and … fool around some more, I’d have no objections.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

He just shrugged and shot her one of his trademark irrepressible grins.

She smiled briefly and then bit her lip, uncertain how to put what she wanted to say next.

“This isn’t…” she looked steadily into his eyes. “I mean… we aren’t really – you know, just fooling any more?”

Josh shook his head, his expression serious as he walked towards her. “No. And I’m not sure we ever were.”

“Fooling around?”

“Or fooling anyone,” he said quietly, running a finger down her cheek. “Except maybe ourselves.”

Donna was staring at him open-mouthed. “Josh – are you okay?”

He frowned at her. “I’m fine. Why?”

“Nothing,” she grinned. “That was just… very insightful of you.”

“Hey,” he kissed her softly. “I can do insightful when it’s called for.”

Donna smiled against his mouth. “I’m sure you can.”

“I can do a whole bunch of other stuff, too…” he drawled lazily, unable to resist the temptation to brush his lips across the soft skin of her cheek.

She laughed throatily. “And this would be the part where you tell me you’ll show me the other stuff later?”

“Oh,” he murmured into her ear, “I’m going to do much more than that.”

Donna felt as though her knees might buckle. “Well.” She managed to say, finally. “Okay then.”

“Okay.” A brief grin flashed across Josh’s face before he took a step backwards, turned and walked back to his desk.

Donna couldn’t help eyeing him up and down, averting her gaze a split second before he dropped into his chair. So she’d lied before, but really - what woman wouldn’t look?

“You need anything?” she asked, opening the door.

“Um – yeah; can you get me the housing stats for the last quarter and the report from Finance about the next round of development grants? Oh, and I need to speak to Personnel at some point.”

“Sure.” Donna nodded. “Anything else?”

“No.” He looked up, smiling warmly. “Thanks.”

Donna turned to go – and stopped at the sound of Josh’s voice. “And don’t think I don’t know you were checking me out just then.”

She shrugged primly and shot him an arch look over her shoulder, making sure to exaggerate the sway of her hips just a little as she walked away.

“There’s no fooling you, is there?”

End.

For anyone who’s interested, the April Fool's gags Josh mentions actually happened.

And somewhere along the way, I lost count of all the clichés and references I got in there :-) - but you should feel the freedom to keep score!

Syntactical Pedantry (G)

Tue, 16 Dec 2008 21:35:32 GMT

This was written for ww_renaissance, when we were re-watching In the Shadow of Two Gunmen.

Usual disclaimers – These guys ain’t mine (and oh, how I hate having to say that about Josh!) – they’re Aaron’s.

Thanks to christinekh for the read through.

Originally posted 27 March 2008

Syntactical Pedantry

“So,” Josh said as he handed Sam a beer. “I got a new assistant today.”

Sam frowned as he looked up from his reading. “A new - ?” He took the proffered bottle. “Did you have an old assistant?”

Josh paused for a split second before flopping down into his chair. “Funny.”

“No, seriously. To have a ‘new’ something, you have to have had an ‘old’ something otherwise the ‘new’ is redundant.”

“Sam.”

“And I don’t recall your having an ‘old’ assistant, ergo, it stands to reason that you can’t have a ‘new’ one. Is all I’m saying.”

Josh took a swig of beer and found, to Sam’s amazement, space on his incredibly messy desk to put up his feet.

“I can’t believe I forgot how pedantic you can be at times.”

“It’s not pedantry. It’s good syntax.”

“Whatever; it’s still dork-like.”

Sam shrugged and settled back to the draft he was annotating. “It’s why I’m paid to write and you’re not.”

Josh made a noise that sounded suspiciously like ‘hmpf’ before he leaned back in his chair and took another drink while Sam continued to read and scribble notes.

The silence lasted less than a minute.

“Remind me again why you’re in here?”

Sam sighed and looked up. “Because Toby’s trying to finish the new speech.”

“And he doesn’t need you for that?”

“I’d prefer not to be within throwing distance.”

“Huh?”

“According to him, my sentences are too long and – you know, he has serious issues with punctuation.”

Josh snorted. “One can have serious issues with punctuation?”

“Toby can.”

Josh rolled his beer bottle between his hands. “He’s okay, Sam, really. Well actually,” he scratched the back of his head, “no, he can be a real son of a bitch, but it’ll be fine once you get to - ”

Sam waved a hand. “Yeah.” Then he flipped shut the pad he’d been using and dropped it to the floor. “So, you were saying,” he began, taking a swig of his beer.

“Hm?”

“About this new assistant of yours.”

Josh smirked. “The one I can’t have because I didn’t have an old one?”

Sam opened his mouth to speak – and paused. Then he said resignedly, “This assistant of yours then.”

“What about her?”

“She’s not that really scary woman with the crazy hair that came in here with the bag of knitted Bartlet for America hats is she?”

“What? No.” Josh’s expression changed suddenly to one of bewilderment. “Hang on. Someone came in here with a bag of hats?”

“Yeah. You should have seen CJ’s face. The woman wouldn’t leave until someone had tried one on.”

Josh chuckled and Sam grinned back. “I told CJ I thought she looked cute in it, but I don’t think she appreciated the compliment.”

“No?”

“Well, she hit me with it.”

“Ah, then I guess you were right.”

Sam nodded and took another drink. “Anyway. This - assistant.”

“Oh, yeah.” Josh leaned back in his chair, a huge smile spreading across his face. “I walked in here this afternoon and found her answering my phone. You know,” he snickered, “she tried to tell me she was assigned to me – but then admitted she wasn’t; told me she was a PoliSci graduate – then admitted she wasn’t; tried to convince me her boyfriend hadn’t dumped her after she’d paid his way through medical school and – what?”

Sam was staring at him, looking more than slightly horrified. “This is the assistant? God, Josh, I think you’d have been better off with the scary woman with the hats.”

Josh swung his feet down, still chuckling as he pulled himself into his desk. “Oh, that’s not the half of it. She had five majors and two minors in two years, dropped out of college to support the freeloading boyfriend - ”

Sam leaned forward. “Josh,” he said, emphatically. “You’re not serious. Really. You didn’t just hire some woman who walked in off the street?”

Josh blinked at him mid-swig. “See,” he set the bottle down. “Here’s the thing. I didn’t actually … I mean, she sort of hired… Sam, she’s - ”

Sam shook his head. “Oh, God.”

“What?”

“You’re a bit young for this, but I guess…”

Josh frowned. “Young for what? What are you talking about?”

“Well, sometimes, as men approach middle-age - ”

“Hey! I’m not - ”

“Yeah, well, like I said, it’s a bit early for a mid-life crisis, but not out of the question.”

“You sure you’re not a woman? Or, you know, my mother?”

“I’m just sayin’ – maybe your judgement was swayed by the fact she’s…”

“She’s what?”

Sam sank back into his seat. “I don’t know. Unless… wait. She’s not that blonde I saw packing those boxes outside earlier?”

Josh nodded. “So?”

“Josh.” Sam sighed, exasperatedly. “Seriously, you haven’t - ”

“Haven’t what?”

“Hired a girl because she’s…”

“A girl?”

“Well, yes, and because she’s…”

“Blonde? Pretty? What?”

“All of the above!”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” Josh insisted firmly.

“So let me get this straight.” Sam leaned forward. “You hired an assistant.”

“Well, the who hired whom is debatable, but for the sake of argument, yes I did.”

“Okay. And you didn’t ask for an assistant and she wasn’t assigned to you.”

“No. Although,” Josh waved his hand around the tiny, cluttered room. “It’s not as though I don’t need one.”

“That, while true, is beside the point.”

“’kay.”

Sam frowned at Josh’s barely disguised amusement. “So this assistant – who you did not request, and who was not assigned to you – walked into your office, answered your phone and talked you into giving her a job.”

“Basically?” Josh shrugged. “Yes.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“So many have said.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Does Leo know?”

“Yes.”

“And he’s okay with it?”

“He’s fine. And in any case, she’s a volunteer.”

“She’s going to put up with you and not get paid for it?”

Josh sat up, indignantly. “I’m not that bad.”

“You’ll drive her nuts within a month.”

“Oh, thanks. With friends like you…”

Sam smiled. “All part of the service.”

“But Sam, the thing is ...” Josh said, his manner suddenly serious. “There’s just… I don’t know. I mean, she drove here from Wisconsin because she wanted to be part of this. She saw the Governor on TV and wanted to do something to help. And she just got in her car and drove a thousand miles. That takes - guts or … something.”

Sam eyed him suspiciously.

“Anyway,” Josh sniffed, “she’s already figured out my filing system and has threatened to change it -”

“You have a filing system?”

“I think that’s the change she’s planning on.”

“Ah.”

“And she’s organized my calendar, packed all the files we’re going to need in Charleston - ”

“We?”

“Huh?”

“She’s coming to Charleston?”

“Yeah. There’ll be plenty for her to do, and I think she’ll be,” he paused, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Valuable.”

Sam picked up his pad, stood up and stretched. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“She’s a nice kid, Sam,” Josh said softly, looking up. “And I just thought…” he pursed his lips and shrugged. “I thought she deserved a chance.”

Sam smiled and nodded. “Okay.” He sighed. “Well. I’d better go see how Toby’s doing.”

Josh leaned back and quirked an eyebrow. “If he throws stuff at you give him a hat.”

“Yeah,” Sam rolled his eyes. “‘cause that’ll really help things along.” He turned to leave. “Thanks for the beer.”

“No problem.” Josh inclined his chin. “Oh, and Sam?” he called after his friend as he left the room. “You really don’t need to worry. When have you ever known me to go for blondes?”

End.

When All is Said and Done Part One (NC-17)

Tue, 16 Dec 2008 21:34:10 GMT

Disclaimers: I own nothing, I’m making nothing… these wonderful characters were created by Aaron Sorkin and belong to Sorkin, Wells and NBC. I’m just taking them out for a spin and will return when I’ve finished with them. Although I might need to hang on to Josh for a while …

Being anally retentive about that sort of thing, I proofed it myself, so any mistakes are mine!

Category/Pairing: Josh/Donna - Bubblefic! So fluff, mush, romance and smut. With a dollop of angst thrown in because I felt like it :)

Spoilers: Um… up to early S7, I guess. This is set shortly after Donna joins the Santos campaign in The Al Smith Dinner, 7.06.

Originally posted 2 March 2008

So here we are again, another year, another bubbleficathon! This one is for the lovely bexatious who asked for Josh, Donna and a very wet thunderstorm. The optional prompt was a swimming pool – there’s a reference in there somewhere, but blink and you’ll miss it!

Many smoochies go out to the fab coloneljack, who props me up, smacks me when I need it and in this case, helpfully provided me with a plot bunny. And to zinke who manages to help me find just the right word or turn of phrase when I’m banging my head against the wall.

When All is Said and Done

When all is said and done, the weather and love are the two elements about which one can never be sure.

Alice Hoffman – Here on Earth.

“So,” Lou said, setting her cup of coffee down on the table and sliding into the seat next to Donna. “How are you settling in?”

“Fine,” Donna turned her head, smiling. “Everyone’s been really kind and helpful.”

Lou looked enquiringly over the top of her glasses. “Everyone?” she asked casually.

“Well,” Donna shrugged and looked around the room, waving a hand absently, “you know. I – I mean …” She sighed - and gave up. “Mostly.”

Lou folded her arms and sat back in her chair, fixing Donna with an uncompromising stare. “Come on. Whatever it is, you didn’t work it out that day in Dearborn, so just tell me. What exactly is the deal with you two?”

Donna raised her eyebrows and looked around the small conference room nervously as Otto and Ronna came in and began to help themselves to coffee. “Nothing,” she said hastily, directing a small smile at her companion. “There’s no deal.” And then, at Lou’s disbelieving look, she felt compelled to add quietly, “He used to be my boss. That’s it.”

“Right.”

Donna looked down at her lap. She may have worked closely with Louise Thornton for only a couple of weeks, but it had taken her all of about ten minutes on her first day to figure out that the woman was incredibly smart, incredibly perceptive – and incredibly tenacious.

“Okay,” she sighed, seeing from the look on Lou’s face that the simple explanation she’d offered wasn’t going to cut it, “so we weren’t exactly on the best of terms when I – uh – we didn’t part on the best of terms. But that really is it.”

“I see.”

“And,” Donna added, hoping that if she said a little more, it would be enough to satisfy Lou’s curiosity and mean she would finally drop the subject once and for all - “I guess he’s having trouble … adjusting to the fact that I’m here and I’m not his assistant anymore.”

Lou snorted. “I can believe that. He’s a regular little despot, isn’t he?”

“Oh, no,” Donna protested, hastily, “I wouldn’t say that. He’s – he gets a bit, um, tunnel-visioned at times, and he likes to get his own way, but - ” Lou was looking vaguely amused and Donna was starting to feel a little uncomfortable, wishing, not for the first time, that the axiom about old habits wasn’t so accurate. “Well, you know what he’s like. You’ve worked with him before.”

“Yes and no. I mean, I’ve never worked with him on anything like this – most of the times we’ve run into each other in the past we were on opposite sides.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“So - ” Donna saw her chance to steer the conversation into safer waters and smiled innocently, picking up her coffee. “Who won?”

Lou tapped her fingers on the tabletop. “Me. Mostly. Well, actually, maybe it’s about even. But you know,” she went on with a frown, “it’s strange. He’s got this reputation for being a real hard-ass; but when it comes down to it? I have to admit there’s something about him when he’s inspired that’s really... quite romantic.”

Donna had been congratulating herself on having successfully avoided any further questions about herself and Josh and was only really half-listening, having begun to move onto other things in her head. But – wait. Romantic? She felt her stomach plummet and tried to keep her tone casual. “He’s … uh … you and he – is there -?”

Lou threw back her head and laughed. “Are you kidding me? He’s so completely not my type.”

Donna hoped the relief she was feeling didn’t show in her face. And then admonished herself for being stupid. Why should it matter to her who Josh might – or might not – be seeing?

Although of course, it did. It always had.

“Besides,” Lou was saying, her voice lowered conspiratorially. “There are more than enough women around here fawning over him.”

Donna almost choked on her mouthful of coffee. “There are?”

“God, yes. Personally, I don’t get it, but then they do say power is an aphrodisiac.” Lou paused, frowning. “Not that he gives them a second glance. Come to think of it,” she went on, flicking Donna a mischievous sideways look, “he doesn’t even give them a first glance. He’s not gay, is he?”

“What? No.”

“Not that it would matter if he - ”

“He isn’t,” Donna said hurriedly, regretting it almost immediately when she took in Lou’s self-satisfied grin. Damn. In the space of less than a minute, Donna had defended Josh’s working methods and categorically stated her knowledge as to his sexual preferences. And not only had she been unable to stop herself responding to Lou’s inquisitive baiting, she now had the words ‘Josh’ and ‘sex’ in her head, something which in the past she’d taken great pains to avoid.

And now she could feel herself starting to blush.

Lou stared at her a moment longer – then, with a nonchalant shrug, seemed to lose all interest. “Okay.”

Thankful for that at least, Donna sipped her coffee, a wave of relief washing over her when she heard the sound of laughter coming from the doorway as some of the other staffers entered the room.

Bram slumped into a chair and gestured towards the window and the gray skies beyond. “So much for getting in a couple of hours lounging around the pool.”

Edie looked up from the coffee pot. “Yeah - your campaign groupies must be so disappointed.”

Bram just grinned and shrugged – what can you do? – as Ronna reached over to pat his arm in mock-sympathy, and Donna couldn’t help but smile. It had been a while since she’d felt such a real sense of camaraderie; the team Will had put together for Russell had been pleasant enough but if she was honest, she hadn’t felt like this since she’d left the White House. And she hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed it.

Bram was still complaining about the weather. “I thought Texas was supposed to be hot.”

“It is hot,” Edie frowned, taking a seat next to Lester.

“Yeah, but it’s been raining since last night.”

Otto turned to look at Bram over his shoulder. “I think you brought it with you.”

“I brought rain? I’m from California!”

“It doesn’t rain there?”

“Only the acid variety,” Lou said, deadpan, then looking up – “Glad you could join us,” as Josh breezed in, dumped a pile of folders at the head of the table and then made for the coffee pot.

Instinctively, Donna’s gaze flicked upwards and she felt herself suck in a breath, almost certain, just for a split second, that his eyes had rested on her fleetingly before he shot a withering glance at Lou and turned to pour his coffee.

She swallowed, staring at his back for a second or two before the sound of a soft snort coming from her left caused her to fix her gaze hastily on the notepad in front of her. “Yeah,” she heard Lou mutter into her cup. “No deal there at all.”

Donna started and glared at her – but Lou had turned away to look up at Josh. “Okay, listen up,” he said, stirring cream and sugar into his coffee. “Change of plan – we’re not heading out tonight; the Congressman wants to spend the rest of the day at home, a- ”

“What? Josh - ” Lou began, clearly not pleased by this turn of events. “We were supposed to be getting into Nevada early for the - ”

He walked around and pulled out a seat at the other end of the table. “I know – but we can work around it. He hasn’t seen his kids in weeks, he’s tired and - ”

“Josh!” Lou tried again, her voice rising irritably. “We can’t just stay here because he feels like it, it’s not -”

Josh gulped down a mouthful of coffee and sat down. “It’s a done deal, so just suck it up, okay? He won’t get many more visits home before the election and he needs some time with his family.” Lou pulled a face as Josh went on. “Besides, it’s not like he’s going to be doing…” he sniffed and scratched the back of his head, “whatever it is you do with kids all day. Leo’s with him now going over the final changes to the stumps; we’ve got a conference call with Goodwin and Layton at five, and he’s having dinner with the governor tonight. Then tomorrow morning he’ll be available for a few interviews and after that he’s got a couple of hours down-time before we leave.” Josh leaned back in his chair, his gaze, Donna noted after a furtive glance, firmly fixed on Lou – even though she knew he was well aware that Donna was now, at Lou’s behest, responsible for co-ordinating the Congressman’s media appearances. “You wanted some time, right?”

Lou looked slightly mollified and nudged Donna’s foot under the table. “Donna?”

“Oh – uh, yes, we’ve got requests from,” she flipped through the papers on top of the folder in front of her, “Good Morning America, CBS This Morning, MSNBC and some of the local stations.” She looked up, her gaze traveling around the table as she spoke, noticing as she did so that Josh wasn’t looking at her – he was frowning at something in the distance while he drank his coffee - and Donna squashed the annoyance that was beginning to bubble up inside. This was what he’d been doing more or less since she’d arrived. She’d been with the campaign for just over two weeks now, and she could probably count the number of words she and Josh had exchanged on the fingers of one hand. They had seen each other practically every day – in meetings, or on the bus, or if she’d been into his office to deliver something for him to sign off on, but each time he’d only barely acknowledged her. He was polite, but distant; he’d mumble his thanks and then move onto something or someone else, leaving her almost fuming with frustration at his summary dismissal, and in the same instant cursing herself for feeling that way. Dammit, she’d spent months away from him in which she’d advanced more professionally than she ever had in the preceding eight years. So why was it he was somehow able to make her feel as gauche and naïve now as she had been all those years ago in New Hampshire; like she was nothing more than a jumped up secretary who didn’t belong there?

But if that was the way he wanted to play it, then she could do the same. Polite. Professional. She sat up a little straighter and looked around the table, forcing an empty smile onto her face as she went on. “I’ll call the networks and set those up – Bram, you’ll be around to help co-ordinate with the crews?”

The details settled, the discussion moved on and Donna lapsed into a preoccupied silence as she reflected that it really would be so much easier to maintain a professional distance if Josh hadn’t been quite so – so Josh-like, with his easy confidence and air of authority – and his messy hair, unevenly rolled up shirt-sleeves and well-worn jeans. She cleared her throat softly and resisted the impulse to shake her head at herself in exasperation. Clearly, being away from him for the last few months hadn’t really changed … anything.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Josh thought that it would have been so much easier to maintain a professional distance if she hadn’t been sitting just across the table being quite so – so Donna-like, with her generous smile and engaging manner – and her gorgeous mouth, creamy skin, and that curve at the base of her throat that seemed to have been specifically designed to taunt him. He forced himself to concentrate on what she was saying as she efficiently summed up all the interview requests, identifying the ones she thought the Congressman should do, those he should consider if there was time and those they should pass on for now. She knew who wanted what, who was most likely to follow her lead about the general direction of an interview, who would want to ask awkward questions, and what the Congressman’s answer should be - and who should on no account be let within ten feet of him. In short, she was as well prepared and efficient as ever – but with a new, easy confidence that Josh found both strangely unnerving and utterly bewitching.

He hadn’t expected to be working with her again, having her close but as far out of his reach as she’d ever been - and, given the way things had been between them over the past few months, possibly even moreso. But how could he have hired her when she’d come to him all those weeks ago? She’d slammed his candidate left, right and center, before that she’d left him when there was still a job to do – and if that wasn’t bad enough she’d gone to work for someone he was sure she hadn’t believed in.

And yet, in spite of it all, there she was – because he hadn’t factored Lou Thornton into the equation.

But for him, worst of all by far was the fact that underneath everything, he could no longer deny the degree to which he needed her – and not only on a professional level. If anyone had asked him – which, he had to admit, was pretty unlikely - he wouldn’t have been able to say when the line between the professional and the personal had become so blurred – hell, perhaps it had always been blurred and he’d just been too blind, too stupid – or too scared - to see it.

But he did need her, more than he’d ever needed anyone, and the idea that one person could be that essential to him was terrifying. He’d said once, years ago, that he would trust Donna with his life. And despite everything, he still did; which made him feel so pathetic as to disgust himself. He’d given her a career – and much, much more, did she but know it – and she’d repaid him by running out on him at a time when he had needed her more than ever.

He was suddenly assailed by the memory of her face that afternoon – her expression a mixture of apprehension and eagerness as she’d sat and calmly talked through her résumé as if she was some goddammed stranger who’d just walked in off the street...

... I think I could be good at this. I think you might find me valuable...

But she wasn’t that girl, not any more. And it had come as a bit of a shock to realize that he didn’t want her to be. She’d learned so much and come so far, and had she been anyone else, he’d have hired her without a second thought. But she wasn’t anyone else -

… and if you think I don’t miss you every day…

Oh God, had he really said that? Watching her as she’d come to the realization that he wasn’t going to hire her, all he’d wanted to do was erase the look of hurt from her face; yet what had he done instead? Said something she’d obviously not wanted to hear - and which he could only hope that maybe her preoccupation with her own misery had quickly obliterated.

But he had missed her. Dammit, now she was actually here and still, he missed her.

Over the past couple of weeks, they’d exchanged barely a handful of words and the atmosphere between them was stilted at best. Ever since she’d come to him in the summer, Josh had been haunted by the knowledge that although there had been times when Donna had needed him in the past, it was very clear that was no longer the case. She’d gotten her job on the campaign without him - and her poise, her newfound self-confidence, all of it pointed to the assured professional that she’d become in the months since she’d left him.

He risked a glance at her… and seeing that she was deep in conversation with Bram, allowed his eyes to linger just a little longer than he’d used to, unable to resist the opportunity to watch her unobserved –

“Josh?” he looked around sharply at the sound of Edie’s voice.

“What?”

“I said I’m going to need some extra help organizing the volunteers when we get to California.”

He waved a hand distractedly. “Yeah.”

Edie raised an eyebrow and then turned to Ronna. “Can I borrow Ellen and one of the guys from finance? I’m still short handed and the schedules are going to need some extra work.”

Ronna nodded her assent as Josh squinted across at Edie and frowned. “Wait – hang on. What happened to Susie?”

“Melissa?”

“Whatever.”

“She left last week, Josh.”

“So use Steven.”

Edie rolled her eyes. “He left yesterday.”

Josh ran a hand across his face and frowned in annoyance. “What the hell is it with people bailing before the job’s done?”

Edie looked at him disapprovingly. “Steven went back to school and Melissa practically went into labor at her desk, so I don’t really think anyone could question her commitment.”

“That’s no ex- ” Josh began to mutter, when an infinitesimal movement on the other side of the table caught his attention. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Donna square her shoulders imperceptibly and then become suddenly very still – her coffee cup was half-way to her lips and she was staring down at the table with a flinty expression on her face. She put the cup down carefully and slowly pushed a strand of hair back over her shoulder.

The chatter in the room suddenly faded into nothing more than background noise. To anyone looking on, Donna was as calm and poised as usual, but Josh knew immediately that she was upset. Or annoyed. Or – as he thought back to what he’d just said – very probably both.

Dammit.

What was it about this woman that turned him into a blathering idiot?

“… so I need the extra staff,” Edie was explaining. “It’s just for a few -”

“Okay, sure.” Josh mumbled, leafing through the pad in front of him – anything to avoid looking across the table. He could hear that Donna had resumed her conversation, but to his ear, her voice sounded clipped and her good humor strained.

He tapped his pen impatiently on the top of the pad. He needed to fix this, and he needed to fix it now. If he could get everyone out of there, then maybe he’d be able to take Donna aside and make it clear he hadn’t been directing an underhand comment at her – things were bad enough between them as it was, and the last thing the campaign needed was to have members of its senior staff sniping at one another.

He pushed his chair back abruptly and stood, leaning his hands on the table. “That’s it. Anyone got anything else?”

There was a general shaking of heads and scraping of chairs and people began to file out as Josh busied himself picking up his pile of books and folders. Bram pointed out helpfully that it had stopped raining and said something about groupies and the hotel pool which made no sense to him whatsoever - and Donna walked around the table at the opposite end, her head bent slightly as she listened to Lou who was still talking a mile a minute.

“Donna - ” he caught a distinctly startled expression flash across her face as she swung around to face him. He took a step towards her – and Ronna’s head popped back around the door before he could say anything else. “Josh? Leo - on one.”

He sighed and watched Donna turn and walk away before sitting back down at the table and pulling the phone towards him. “I’ll take it in here.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

A lengthy discussion about the speeches and an even longer conference call later, and Josh was finally able to make his way to the small suite they were using as general offices. It didn’t take him long to spot the empty chair at the table Donna had been using as a desk for the last couple of days.

He puffed out a breath and tapped his palms against his thighs as he scanned the room, making sure she wasn’t lurking somewhere when Lou’s voice, coming from behind him, almost made him jump. “If you’re looking for Donna, she’s not here.”

He whipped around to face her, doing his best to keep his expression neutral. “Why would I be looking for - ”

Lou gave him her patented you don’t fool me look over the top of her glasses. “She finished getting the schedule together for tomorrow and then went out a few minutes ago; said she needed to unfog her head. She’s probably - ”

“- making for the nearest Starbuck’s.” Josh nodded absently and looked out the window, frowning as he noted the turbulent, dark gray sky which was dappled with an iridescent light. “In this?”

Lou shrugged. “Do I look like Al Roker to you? I’m not her mother – or did you expect me to check she’d got her raincoat and galoshes?”

“What?”

“Never mind,” Lou said as Josh turned and headed for the stairs. Running lightly down the couple of flights to the ground floor he headed out of the nearest exit, a side door that led to the rear of the parking lot via a set of half-a-dozen steps and a short strip of pavement. He paused at the top of the steps, hardly noticing the couple of droplets of rainwater that splashed onto his hand as it rested on the railing. Surely Donna must have come out this way; it was the nearest exit to the office, and the other side of the parking lot led more or less directly onto the street, so … He looked around quickly, then up as a flash of lightning lit the sky overhead and there, just at the edge of his peripheral vision - another flash, this time of blonde hair swinging as Donna stopped walking and looked up. Not taking his eyes off the back of her head, Josh leapt down the steps and hurried after her, ignoring the heavy beads of moisture that were beginning to trickle down the back of his neck.

As he began to weave his way through the parked cars, he saw her stop again, then she turned and began to walk briskly back in the direction of the hotel’s main entrance around the corner.

“Donna! Wait!”

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned towards him, blinking rapidly as the rain began to splash onto her expressionless face. “What do you want, Josh?”

He wiped a hand across his eyes as another lightning burst lit the otherwise murky sky. “I just wanted to … what I said before – I saw that you took it the wrong way and I didn’t want you to…”

She squared her jaw and raised her eyebrows, her air of indifference changing to one of disdain. “Took what the wrong way?”

A bass note of thunder growled in the distance. “What I said about – you know, back in the meeting.”

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said coldly, and began to walk away from him as the rain began to fall a little faster.

He bounded the couple of steps it took him to reach her and grasped her arm to turn her to face him. “Oh, for God’s sake, Donna, this is me you’re talking to! You’re pissed - ”

He saw her suck in a breath, her mouth set in a firm line as she looked down at his hand where it rested at her elbow. “Okay.” Another flash of lightening illuminated the glare she shot at him - and he released his hold on her arm. “You really want to do this?” She pushed a clump of soggy hair back from her face. “Then yes, Josh, I’m pissed. My first day, all you could do was lecture me about loyalty, and then you - ”

Josh threw his hands out to the side. “Can you blame me?” he shouted above another, closer rumble, oblivious to the fact that his clothes were now more then damp. “Or,” he sneered, unable to help himself, “should we just ignore what happened in your last job?” He saw her open her mouth to protest, but he didn’t let her speak. “The President was sick,” he began, ticking off on his fingers. “I had NASA telling me a meteor might be about to wipe out life as we know it, and you picked that day, of all days – to walk out on me!”

“For the love of God, Josh! I didn’t walk out on you! I left my job!”

“The job I gave you!”

“Yes,” Donna raised her voice above the noise of the rain as it began to pound against the blacktop “ – and I’m grateful for that, but it just wasn’t enough any longer. I asked you, I practically begged you for more, but you didn’t listen. You never listened!”

“That’s bullshit! And don’t give me that crap about ‘grunt level servitude’ either; I gave you as much extra responsibility as I could. You did far more than Margaret or Debbie – or even Mrs Landingham - ”

“I don’t think Leo or the President treated their assistants like servants!”

“And neither did I! Goddamn it, Donna – is that what you think of me? Really?”

“You took me for granted!” she spat, pushing another wet strand of hair off her face. “You gave me enough to keep me quiet but no more – why waste your valuable time teaching someone else to do that stuff when good old reliable Donna already does it so well?”

Josh almost choked on his response. “I never thought of you like that – it wasn’t about - ” he paused and wiped his face as he puffed out an exasperated sigh. “We have to get past this,” he insisted. “If we’re going to work together then - ”

She frowned at him, her expression one of disbelief. “Get past what, Josh? Considering you’ve been doing a damn good job of ignoring me for the last couple of weeks, I don’t think you’re the one who should be talking about ‘getting past’,” she waved a hand between them, “this – whatever that means.”

Josh’s eyebrows shot up in indignation. “I haven’t been ignoring you,” he protested, wincing at the untruth even as his next words died abruptly on his tongue. Without warning, he found himself able to do anything but ignore the way Donna’s now soaked clothes were clinging to her body; her pale green tee molded to every luscious curve – and he was transfixed by the way the water droplets were collecting around her collarbone, running down her chest and then further down, between her breasts which he couldn’t help noticing were rising and falling rapidly …

Oh, God.

Fortunately, she didn’t seem to have noticed him staring. He screwed his eyes shut, scrubbed a hand through his hair and forced himself to look at her face, which was flushed, her eyes flashing angrily - and damn, but that wasn’t helping either because, even when furious with him, he wanted her with a ferocity that he found staggering.

“No?” Her eyes widened and she snorted incredulously as she continued. “Well you’ve been doing a pretty good imitation of it. And I’m sorry if you don’t want me here, but you know what? That’s just tough. I came to you – I practically begged you for a job and you turned me away. Do you know how – can you possibly understand how hard that was for me? How - ”

Her words jolted him into response. “How hard it was for you?” he yelled, taking a step closer. “How the hell do you think I felt, knowing I had to turn you down, how – how it’d look if I hired you. And if you think turning you away was easy, then - ”

He stopped hastily, conscious that he’d already said too much and schooled his features into a neutral expression.

“We should go in.” He sucked in a breath, extending an arm in the direction in which Donna had been walking before. This had been a mistake. He should have waited for her to come back, taken her aside – preferably where there were people, so she couldn’t yell at him too loudly – said what he had to say and that would have been the end of it.

But Donna wasn’t moving. She was still breathing heavily, and Josh was finding it increasingly difficult not to notice the cooling effect the rainwater was having on certain parts of her anatomy.

“Donna - ”

“You told me you missed me!” she yelled accusingly.

What?

He felt as though he’d been struck – and his mouth refused to obey the commands his brain was screaming at it to just shut up and get the hell out of there while he still could.

“I did!” he shouted back at her, never one to take his own advice. “I do miss you! Every fucking day, I miss you!”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

“We should go in,” Josh said, his voice suddenly toneless, his face a blank mask. Donna felt as though she’d received a body-blow – he didn’t do this, not to her. He’d never hidden from her like this, no matter what face he’d presented to the rest of the world; she was the one person who’d seen him at his best and at his worst – and the fact that he had shut her out was yet one more twist of the knife. He may just have been yelling at her, but that was infinitely preferable to the studied indifference he’d been showing her since she’d joined the campaign.

Donna swallowed hard as her gaze drifted from his now impassive face. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen Josh looking like a drowned rat… but the trouble was that he was such a spectacular-looking drowned rat. The way his pale blue shirt was splattered against his chest left very little to the imagination - and although those jeans must be getting pretty uncomfortable by now, the effect when wet was…

“Donna,” he said quietly – and she snapped her head up, her eyes meeting his just for an instant, the way he said her name reminding her so strongly of the way they used to be that it brought a lump to her throat. She thought she heard a little of the old Josh in there; and hearing that oh, so familiar tone sent her mind racing back to the last time she’d heard him speak to her in that way, to that awful afternoon weeks ago when -

“You told me you missed me!” she blurted, unthinkingly.

Josh just stared at her, seemingly stunned, before he shouted vehemently - “I did - I do miss you! Every fucking day, I miss you!”

Momentarily thrown, Donna opened and then closed her mouth in shock. God knew, she’d heard Josh use worse language; but he’d never directed it at her before.

“Then why are you ignoring me?”

“I’m not! I - ”

“You don’t look at me, you barely speak to me. People are starting to notice - ”

He frowned. “Notice what?”

She ignored his interjection. “And I can’t work like that, Josh, I just can’t. It’s not fair. I’m good at my job and I won’t take any more of your manipulative crap, it’s unprof - ”

“Don’t talk to me about ‘unprofessional’, he snarled, his eyes blazing menacingly. “You’re the last person to - ”

She clenched her hands into fists at her sides. “Well, then stop treating me as if you don’t think I should be here! You might not want me here, but like it or not, I am here, and I’m going to do the best job I can for you and the Congressman and the campaign. And if that’s not professional enough for you, then you’ll damn well have to fire me because I’m not quitting.”

Donna saw his expression change to one of derision and knew immediately she’d made a serious tactical error.

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s never happened before.”

She felt a fury rising inside her like she’d never known. “You bastard,” she said quietly, fighting to keep the tremor out of her voice. “How you can have the sheer, barefaced … audacity to stand there and tell me we have to get past … that, right there, that’s what you have to get past. You can’t stand that I’ve grown and I’ve learned without you and – well, it’s crap and you know where you can shove it!”

“I can’t stand..?” he choked out, gaping at her in astonishment. “Is that what you think? It’s not - it’s - ” he paused, just for an instant, and then it seemed as though he couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out. “It should have been me – you should have been with me! I should have been the one to help you, to teach you, and instead - ”

… you should be with me. You’re on the wrong campaign.

Donna stared at him in shock, trying vainly to process what he’d just said and make it fit, somehow, into her understanding of the chain of events that had led to this outpouring of anger and bitterness … she could see a muscle in his cheek twitching as he tried to get his temper back under control; and as she watched him, she could have sworn she saw something snap behind his eyes. Before she could register what he was doing, he’d closed the gap between them, taken her face in his hands, tilted her chin – and found her mouth with his. Cool and rain-wet, his lips demanded – and got – her response as his fingers sank into her hair, holding her to him as he kissed her fiercely. She clutched at his biceps to steady herself, almost overwhelmed by the need, the desperation she both sensed and felt; moaned as Josh traced the outline of her lips with his tongue, opened her mouth eagerly beneath his. Her clothes were clinging unpleasantly to her body, the fresh, clear rain was trickling down her face, but she didn’t care… she didn’t care that she was wet through, or that she was kissing Josh in the middle of a parking lot in downtown Houston – all she knew was that this was right, that this was what she wanted - was what she’d always wanted. Helplessly, her head spinning, she drew herself in to him as closely as possible as he disentangled his hands from her hair and wrapped his arms tightly about her waist.

Almost of their own volition, her hands slid up his chest. Donna could feel his warmth under her palms through the saturated cotton of his shirt, the familiar solidity of him both comforting and arousing; then she ran the fingers of one hand into his wet hair, curling the other around the nape of his neck as his lips continued to move unrelentingly on hers. She nipped at his tongue, then dipped hers into his mouth, the sound of arousal he made deep in the back of his throat as he pulled her flush against him making her wonder if she’d actually been struck by the lightning that had been flashing across the sky.

The sudden, high-pitched shriek of a car alarm acted on her like a slap in the face and brought her down to earth with a bump. With an anguished cry, she tore her lips from his and pushed herself away from him, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth.

What the hell was that?

She took a couple of steps backwards and swallowed hard as she tried to catch her breath, unable to do anything but stare at Josh through the tears of frustration and anger that mingled with the raindrops cascading down her face. He said nothing – judging by his expression he was as stunned as she was, stunned and … hurt.

No.

She drew herself up to her full height. “I can’t do this.” And she turned on her heel and walked away.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Having peeled off her wet clothes and left them in a soggy pile in the corner of the bathroom, Donna stood under the warm spray of the shower and scrubbed shampoo angrily into her hair. Damn him. And damn her, too. He’d kissed her – after all this time, he’d finally kissed her - and she’d kissed him back. Completely unable to control her body’s response to him, all it had taken was one kiss to show her that she still wanted him as badly as she ever had – and to show him that he could have what he – apparently – wanted, too.

So who the hell was he to lecture her? One minute he was accusing her of disloyalty and questioning her professionalism – the next he was kissing her like a man possessed. How dare he stand there and accuse her of – and say those things about her – and then think he could get away with – she blew out a breath in frustration. He was lucky she hadn’t hit him. And make no mistake, she’d been tempted.

Donna rinsed the shampoo out of her hair, shut off the water and picked a couple of towels off the rack. Stepping out of the tub, she dried herself off quickly, steeling herself for what she knew she had to do next. She had told Josh she wasn’t going to quit the campaign; she meant it and she was going to damn well prove it. She wasn’t going to run away with her tail between her legs just because he had some half-assed idea that she couldn’t do a good job for Santos because she’d previously worked for ‘the other guy’. And what made it all the more infuriating was that she knew Josh well enough to be able to tell when he was using something as an excuse; even though he’d tossed some pretty mean words her way, he hadn’t once questioned her ability to do her job or the quality of her work. So that wasn’t the real problem.

Which left… what had happened afterwards. She put her fingers to her lips absently, unable to dismiss the memory of the way his mouth had possessed hers, the warmth flushing through her body as she recalled the way she’d completely abandoned herself to his kiss a mixture of embarrassment and – something else. She’d teased him often enough about his ineptitude when it came to talking to women, but God, the physical part of it seemed to come naturally. She could still feel the imprint of his lips on hers, feel where his hands had cupped her face, where his arms had enfolded her in an almost vice-like grip… and as if that wasn’t bad enough, she couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d looked at her for that instant before he’d kissed her, the blistering heat in his eyes sending shockwaves reverberating throughout her body - or about how he’d looked, standing there in the rain, drenched - and gorgeous. For eight long years she’d somehow managed to suppress the knowledge that she worked for a very attractive man, but in the months they’d been apart she’d been unable to obey her self-imposed ‘don’t go there’ rule on several occasions. And since she’d joined the campaign, she had to admit that – rather like that afternoon - she’d failed spectacularly.

She sighed ruefully and shook her head. Looking back, it had been foolish to think that distancing herself from Josh physically was going to help her to distance herself from him in other ways. If anything, it had just made things worse, because despite the things she’d said to him earlier, and despite the fact that he still had the unerring ability to drive her nuts, she was more in love with him now than ever.

Donna abandoned the steamy bathroom and walked out into the bedroom, the cooler air raising goosebumps on her skin and helping to clear her head, to focus more on the question at hand. Why had Josh kissed her? She pulled a pair of sweatpants and a tank-top from a drawer. The obvious answer to that was because he wanted to – and by the time she’d pulled away it had become abundantly clear that he wanted to do a damn sight more than just kiss her, but then that was easily explainable. He was a guy; if what Lou had said was true, he wasn’t getting any and Donna had been … there. God, what a depressing thought. Pulling on her pants, she decided that she was pretty pathetic in more ways than one. The man she’d been crazy about for more than eight years had just kissed her – and not only was she pissed about it; she was trying to find an explanation for it. Why the hell couldn’t she just have enjoyed it for what it was, a man showing her he was attracted to her? Which is probably what it would have meant had it been any other man. But it wasn’t any other man, it was Josh and nothing was ever that simple with him. It was Josh, who’d never shown the slightest inclination that he wanted to –

You look amazing…

Okay, so maybe he had. But that had been a long time ago and he hadn’t actually done anything, which begged the question… why now?

And then it hit her. He’d been goading her into losing it with him – he liked arguing because he usually won - but instead of backing down, she’d pushed back and had ended up taking him somewhere he hadn’t wanted to go. His last words to her, the look on his face as he’d blurted out something about wanting to have been the one to guide her… that had been the truth, she was sure of it. And because she’d backed him into a corner, he’d done what, by his own admission, he did in those situations and taken control of it by taking action.

Son of a bitch. She didn’t know what she wanted to do more – throw something at him or curl up under the duvet and cry. But knowing Josh as she did, if left to him, that would be the end of it. He’d carry on ignoring her, he wouldn’t refer to it ever again – and if he thought he could just… do something like that and then act as if nothing had happened, then he’d better think again.

Whatever his reasons for treating her like a leper these past couple of weeks Donna had had enough of it. Josh didn’t like personal confrontations – but she was damned if she was going to let him avoid this one. The fact that they were in this situation in the first place was largely because she’d let him evade the last one; and never let it be said of Donna Moss that she didn’t learn from her mistakes.

She slipped on some sneakers and pulled a brush through her hair, still damp and frizzing a bit at the ends, then pulled it back, secured it into a loose pony-tail and headed out before she could change her mind.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Josh stripped off his wet clothes, each item landing with a ‘splat’ as he left a trail of them across the bathroom floor. He turned on the shower and stood under the water, trying to make some sense of the jumbled thoughts in his head. What the hell had he just done? Eight – nearly nine years of friendship and he’d blown it in a few short seconds.

Idiot.

So what was he going to do now? Apologize, of course, and hope to God he could find a way to get Donna to stay because after what he’d just done, he wouldn’t blame her in the slightest if she wanted to slap him senseless and then get as far away from him as possible.

He scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair, leaning one arm against the tile as he let the water beat down on his shoulders and run down his back. But all he could see in his mind’s eye was Donna - sitting cool and poised in the meeting, then shouting at him in the rain, her hair dulled to a burnished bronze, her face flushed, her eyes blazing as she gave as good as she got … the outline of her nipples raised tantalizingly under the clinging fabric of her top, droplets of water falling from the ends of her hair, forming little rivulets which ran between her breasts –

- and really, he should stop thinking like that right now, unless he wanted to have to turn down the water temperature.

Josh straightened and tilted up his face under the spray, closing his eyes and opening his mouth as if the water could somehow erase the taste of her from his lips and his memory.

He groaned.

She’d have his balls in a basket in the morning.

He really didn’t know what had come over him. He’d kept his hands off her for more than eight years for a number of reasons – some of which, he realized with a start - didn’t exist any more; although it had to be said that none of them had really mattered anyway because at the end of the day, she hadn’t been interested in him.

If she had been, she wouldn’t have ordered him out of the hospital in Germany, or sniped at him about flight bags and ice cream – or left him. He’d known that she thought he’d stopped her advancing professionally for purely selfish reasons – he’d worked that out after she’d quit and some of the things she’d said to him earlier today had confirmed it, but really, he hadn’t been doing that. Or at least, he’d never intended it that way. He’d just … wanted her with him.

And now, here she was, lovely as ever, tempting as ever, the same, yet different; still Donna but with a new sense of herself that only made him want her more, if that were possible. But if he was going to be able to keep his mind on the task he’d set himself - and for the sake of his own sanity - he needed to keep her at arm’s length, keep things casual, professional. ‘Thinking like that’ about Donna had been a no-go area for best part of a decade, so he was pretty used to it by now; but the problem was that during the months they’d spent apart he’d only had so much mental energy available to devote to keeping that self-imposed edict – and it hadn’t been enough. The worms had started slithering quickly out of that particular can, especially after Iowa - and not being with her, not being around her daily hadn’t changed a thing. If anything, being away from her had just made him lo-- had just intensified the - whatever it was he felt for her. And today, finally it had all been too much and he’d just … snapped.

He shut off the water and reached for a towel, scrubbing it over his hair as he reached for another to wrap around his waist.

But God, she’d tasted good. Every bit as good as he’d ever imagined – no, better. Warm and sweet and inviting, he’d heard her moaning in pleasure when he’d parted those soft, plump lips and slid his tongue into her mouth to taste her. And her skin… so soft under his fingers as he’d caressed her cheek, her throat… her body, slender and pliant in his arms as she’d lined herself up against him, pressing herself into him as if she couldn’t get close enough…

Wait.

He rubbed at his hair again and began roughly to towel himself dry. Emerging from the warm bathroom into the air-conditioned bedroom was something of a shock – but the drop in temperature seemed to kick-start his brain as something that had been lurking around elusively suddenly became clear. Before Donna had pushed him away, she’d reciprocated. She had definitely kissed him back.

Well.

That certainly put a different complexion on things.

Josh walked over to his suitcase and started rummaging through it for a clean t-shirt and pair of boxers. He was never sure whether he hated packing or unpacking the most, so basically, he rarely did either. He found a shirt and started thinking about what he was going to say to Donna while he was still scrabbling around for clean underwear. She was almost certainly furious with him, but he’d find a way to talk her down – he’d have to, because losing her again wasn’t an option; and maybe, if he was lucky, he’d find a way to stop her yelling at him long enough for him to be able to kiss her again and then find a way to talk her into staying with the campaign.

And with him.

Part Two

When All is Said and Done Part Two (NC-17)

Tue, 16 Dec 2008 21:32:30 GMT

Notes, disclaimers etc. in Part One

Donna had a plan. She was going tell Josh exactly what she thought of him, call him on his crap, demand some answers, and insist that he at least began to treat her the same way he treated the rest of his ‘inner-circle’ of staff. And then she’d leave with her head held high, make her way back to her room - and empty the mini-bar of all its chocolate. Hm. Was there any ice-cream in there? She couldn’t remember…

She arrived at Josh’s door, took a deep breath, squared her shoulders - and knocked.

He didn’t answer straight away; but she could hear him moving around inside and had just raised her hand to knock again, when the door swung open. Glancing up at his face, she barely gave him time to stand to one side before she breezed past him and into the room.

“Josh,” she began, whirling around at the sound of the closing door. “I want to talk to you.”

He scratched the back of his head. “Donna,” he said, as he turned around and ambled past her, “if you’re going to yell at me, could you at least let me put some clothes on first?”

Donna opened her mouth. Then snapped it shut. Josh had his back to her and was rummaging around in his suitcase and she found herself just… staring. There were droplets of moisture beaded between his shoulder-blades, one or two of them wending their way down the length of his spine until they disappeared, absorbed by the fluffy cotton towel he’d wrapped low around his hips. Donna felt a flush beginning to creep across her cheeks and a visceral tug at the pit of her stomach. What the hell was wrong with her? She’d seen Josh in various states of undress over the years – and yet now, she was finding it practically impossible to stop wondering what it would feel like to run her hands across his bare back, how his skin would feel under her fingers – and how he would react to her touch.

The exasperated sound he made as he turned slightly to begin rifling through the other side of the case brought Donna back to herself with a start and immediately, she looked away. “I - ” she began, her words drying up as she realized that, in spite of her determination not to let Josh off the hook, the principal emotion she was now feeling was sorrow rather than anger. She couldn’t deny that at the back of her mind, she’d allowed herself to hope that once she was working alongside him again, Josh would accept her presence and that they would be able to get back some of what they’d once had. But now, as she considered the possibility that she may, in fact, be looking at the ruins of what had been the most important relationship of her life, all she could feel was sadness and regret. “I’m – not going to yell,” she said as she sank down onto the edge of the bed, suddenly deflated. “I don’t want to, and I don’t have the energy. I just want to talk.”

Josh turned around. “Okay,” he said softly, relief evident in his voice.

Donna swallowed and hastily flicked her gaze up to his chest. Then, realizing that being caught staring at that might not be such a good idea either, she dragged her eyes quickly upwards until she reached his face – and couldn’t help but smile.

“What?”

Her smile widened. “Nothing. You just look like a family of sparrows has taken up residence in your hair.”

He grinned back at her and ran a hand through his unruly locks a couple of times. “I just got out of the shower,” and Donna was shocked to realize just how long it had been since she’d seen that devastating smile of his – and just how much she’d missed it.

“Oh. And here I was, wondering if you’d gone out to work on your Gene Kelly impression,” she said carelessly before she could stop herself, cursing inwardly as she saw his expression shutter and turn carefully dispassionate, much as he always looked when she was around these days.

Stupid.

She rubbed her hands up and down her thighs and stood up.

“We can’t go on like this, Josh. I told you I’m not going to leave, and I’m not. But I can’t work with you if we can’t at least – get along.”

“Get along,” he echoed, tonelessly.

“Yes,” she sighed. “I get that you’re angry with me. I get that maybe you’re finding it difficult to – adjust to the idea of our working together in a different capacity, but can’t we at least agree to, I don’t know, try to be amicable?”

Josh’s eyebrows shot up – but he was silent.

Donna folded her arms. “Now it’s your turn to say something.”

She bit her lip as he hitched up his towel and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Okay,” he puffed out, leaning back against the dresser. “I know I said some … unacceptable things out there and I’m sorry. But I’m not angry with you.”

“You could have fooled me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Donna. I’m trying to – you know, here.”

She held up her hands. “Sorry.”

“And it’s really not about my being uncomfortable with you in a position of authority. I’m not. And yes, you’re good at your job, and I know you’re going to do the best job you can. Just like you always do.” She felt herself blushing – and looked down at her hands.

“So why did you say ..?” she asked, after a long pause.

“You walked out on me, Donna,” he said quietly. She brought her head up quickly, about to protest - but he held up a hand and went on, his eyes fixed determinedly on her face. “I thought that you of all people would know – would be able to understand how …” he paused and pushed himself away from the dresser. “And – it hurt to think that after eight years, you knew that and just … didn’t care.”

Donna felt a lump forming in her throat and looked away, unable to bear the pained look in his eyes, so similar to the one she’d tried to ignore that horrible afternoon in his office.

She knew what it must have cost him to admit that to her, knew how difficult he found it to talk about himself like that… and she felt ashamed, too, because that had been exactly how she’d wanted him to feel. He had hurt her, and she’d wanted to hurt him in return, but she hadn’t known that she had the power to wound him so deeply. She had thought that perhaps he’d be pissed that she was no longer at his beck and call, or because she’d left without notice and gone to work for someone he didn’t like or respect - but that she could have honestly brought him to believe that she didn’t care about him?

She swallowed hard. “Josh,” she whispered, “I never stopped caring. Never.”

He said nothing – just kept his dark eyes trained on her face with a look so intense that she found herself flooding with warmth and suddenly unable to breathe. Then the moment was over and his features softened suddenly, dimples emerging as he smiled almost shyly and picked up his shirt and boxers. “I’d better …” he nodded in the direction of the bathroom.

“Oh. Yeah.” Donna nodded distractedly as she watched him walk away, biting her lip as she took in the broad expanse of his shoulders, his slim hips encased by the towel and - God, he’s – she cleared her throat. “Wouldn’t want you to catch cold.”

She heard a snort as he pushed the bathroom door half closed.

Looking around the room, she twiddled her thumbs, feeling rather at a loss as to what to do now. The sense of relief she was experiencing was almost overwhelming; she felt content – happy, even – something she hadn’t been in months, and it felt almost too good to be true. Was that really ‘it’? A shouting match, a little honesty and they were ready to rebuild their friendship?

Donna found her eyes fixed on the bathroom door, took a deep breath – and looked away. Friends… was good. As it should be. It might take a little while, but at last she and Josh were in a place where they could start to rebuild their friendship and a find a new working dynamic. But while she looked around at the familiar chaos that inevitably surrounded him – and resisted the urge to do something about the horror that was his suitcase – something he’d said during their argument in the rain rose suddenly to the surface of her mind and she remembered that there were still a few questions to which she needed answers.

“Josh?” she began, before she could change her mind.

His reply was slightly muffled by the half-closed door. “Yeah?”

“Why,” she began – and then realized she wasn’t quite ready to ask him about that, so instead, opted to start with the easier question. “What did you mean before, when you said you were worried about how it would have looked if you hired me?”

He opened the door and walked out, still pulling on his t-shirt; and Donna couldn’t help the vision of wet clothes strewn across the floor and towels just left where they’d been dropped that immediately entered her head.

“What?”

“I asked what you meant when you said you couldn’t hire me because of what it would have looked like.”

“Oh,” he shrugged, off-handedly. “It was just something I - ”

“Oh, no you don’t,” she admonished, wagging a finger in his direction. “Nothing is ever ‘just’ something with you - ”

“Did you hit your head? Because seriously, this conversation is becoming - ”

“Familiar?”

“Unintelligible.”

Donna raised an eyebrow.

“I meant,” he sighed in resignation as he resumed his previous position, propped against the dresser, “that people knew who you were and that you’d worked for Russell and that if I hired you it would look as though I did it because – uh – because you used to work for me.”

Donna frowned. She was pretty sure that hadn’t been what he’d meant to say.

“And I know how hard you worked to prove yourself,” he went on – and there was nothing accusatory in his voice. “I know the rumor-mill, Donna. It’s bad enough in DC, but when you’re out campaigning it’s … well, I didn’t want people to think - there was enough gossip about us before, and I didn’t want – uh - ”

She took a deep breath and plunged straight in. “You didn’t want people to think that you hired me because you wanted to sleep with me.”

Josh shrugged. “Something like that,” he said with a nervous smile – and Donna could have sworn he was blushing.

“I guess it wouldn’t be the first time people thought that about us,” she mused.

“No,” he rubbed the back of his neck, then looked up at her. “But – it’s different now. Different for you – here, I mean.”

She cocked her head to the side, her lips curled up into a small smile. “I’m touched you were so concerned for my honor.”

Josh chuckled. “Yeah. You’re a regular damsel in distress.”

Donna laughed softly and looked down at her hands. This was starting to feel normal, comfortable, even. The familiarity of their manner, the relative ease of their conversation over the last few minutes, made it almost difficult to believe that she and Josh had been more or less estranged for the last eight months – although she couldn’t deny that there was still something between them that didn’t feel… quite right. There was a definite undercurrent of something she couldn’t put her finger on that was making her feel a little on edge. She sensed, for instance, that there was still something Josh wasn’t telling her - but in the interest of trying to get them back onto an even keel, she decided to leave it alone for now. He’d been unusually forthcoming with her this evening – in fact, she realized with some surprise, she’d been asking all the questions when surely, he must have some of his own. And, more to the point, Josh had been answering them; there’d been no circumvention or obfuscation, he’d been honest and pretty much to the point. He hadn’t pressed her for answers or plied her with questions; he’d just followed her lead and let her take him where she wanted to go.

Okay. So now she was nervous.

Especially as there was one thing she still needed to know. She sat there arguing with herself; on the one hand, she’d come over here to demand answers, but on the other, why rock the boat when they were on their way towards becoming friends again.

Friends?

Friends, she told herself firmly, fighting to squash the small voice in her head that was insisting that friends didn’t kiss each other ‘like that’. Inexorably. something in her chest tightened at the memory of his mouth against hers – and she felt her breathing hitch when she lifted her head to find him regarding her intently, a look of open affection on his face.

Josh started to ask her - “Do you want to get something to -?”

- as she threw caution to the wind and blurted out - “Why did you kiss me?”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Why did I..?” Then he folded his arms and smirked at her. “Why do you think?”

Oh, for the love of…

Was she somehow back in elementary school?

“Because – I don’t know; because you couldn’t think of anything else to say and wanted me to shut up.”

He looked puzzled, then. And a little hurt. “You - think I kissed you to shut you up?”

Donna sighed and looked at the floor. “No,” she admitted. “I think you did it to gain the upper hand, throw me off balance a little…”

When Josh didn’t reply, she ventured a glance up at him. And found him looking at her steadily, his head cocked to the side, one dimple starting to appear as the corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile. “Did it work?” he said quietly, his tone of voice one she could only describe as –

- sexy as hell.

Her jaw dropped incredulously. “What?”

“You heard me,” he persisted, pushing himself away from the dresser and taking a couple of steps towards her. “If that’s why you think I kissed you – did it work?”

Donna’s eyes flew open wide.

God, yes.

She’d expected Josh to prevaricate, perhaps even to make light of the whole thing or – and this had been the alternative she’d been dreading – apologize for it. She certainly hadn’t expected him to look as though …

… as though he wanted to do it again.

She shook her head, trying to tamp down the fluttering that had started up in the pit of her stomach. “No. You haven’t answered my question.”

“Why did I kiss you.”

“Yes.” How could she have actually missed that smug grin?

“And your mother never had that talk with you when you were, like, twelve?”

“Josh!”

“Well,” he said, taking another step closer, “why does anyone kiss anybody?”

Donna unconsciously edged backwards as she made an attempt to beat him at his own game. “You didn’t have that talk either?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “For the sake of argument,” he said slowly – and she noticed the muscle in his cheek twitching in that way it did when he was trying not to smile, “assume that I didn’t and humor me.”

Donna folded her arms somewhat defensively. Josh had moved so that they were standing almost toe to toe, and given his suddenly roguish mood, she was starting to feel a little uneasy. She’d never seen him quite like this before – and if she hadn’t known better she would have said he was flirting – really flirting – with her.

She narrowed her eyes. “For the sake of argument?”

He nodded, his gaze now fixed on hers.

“Okay,” she huffed, rolling her eyes because it was the only way she could drag them away from his. “Well, because they want to.”

Josh gave her an inquiring look and nodded. “And?” he intoned, taking another step forward. Instinctively, Donna moved back, recognizing this as one of his favorite tactics. She’d lost count of the times she’d seen him throw someone off their game like this; invading their personal space, overwhelming them with the sheer force of his personality - but she wasn’t going to let him distract her like that.

Except –

- he was distracting her. With him standing so close, she was finding it increasingly hard to marshal her thoughts; and when she looked up at him again, it was to find him regarding her with a mixture of expectation and … something else she couldn’t quite define.

Which only served to confuse her even more.

Donna cleared her throat. “And maybe,” she continued, trying surreptitiously to slow down her breathing, “because they… like … the other person.”

“Yes.” His eyes were twinkling wickedly. “Anything else?”

Struggling to find something to say, Donna realized, too late, that the solid mass that had just hit the backs of her legs was the bed. “Uh…” she mumbled, steadying herself and trying not to think about the words ‘Josh’ and ‘bed’ in the same sentence – then cursing herself because she’d just done it - “because they … uh… find them… um … you know …”

“Exactly. So what makes you think my reasons would be any different?”

What?

“I have no -” she began, but Josh was clearly determined to have this part of the conversation more or less by himself.

“So let me ask you the same question. Why did you kiss me?”

“What? I didn’t – I… you - ” she spluttered.

“Because in case you’d forgotten, Donna,” he said quietly, in a tone of voice she’d never heard him use before. “You kissed me back.”

And he took one, final step towards her, so close now that they were almost touching chest to chest. She could smell the scent she always associated with him – a wonderfully familiar mixture of soap and Josh, feel the warmth of his breath on her face, and the heat radiating from his body; the fluttering in her stomach turned into fully-fledged churning as she lifted her eyes to his and felt the breath catch in her throat at the tenderness, the longing - the desire she saw there.

His eyes told her all she needed to know. And, she realized with a start - they always had. She’d just never allowed herself to look properly before.

Josh ran a finger down her cheek and pressed it lightly to her lips. “You kissed me back,” he whispered huskily.

She couldn’t speak. She heard her own breathing become yet more rapid and uneven as helplessly, she found herself staring at his mouth.

“Do you know,” he said softly, leaning in just slightly to brush his lips against her temple in a feather-light caress, “just how difficult it’s been,” he ran the backs of his knuckles down her cheek, “having you around again?”

He trailed his lips down to her ear, his voice low, seductive. “It’s been – unbearable,” his mouth moved to her neck, his fingers brushing lightly along the other side of her jaw. Donna sucked in a shaky breath and laid her hand on his shoulder for support; he was touching her with only his fingers and his lips, but she was already starting to feel light-headed.

“Really?” she whispered, closing her eyes as she leaned into his touch.

“Uh-huh,” he drawled, pulling back so that he could move across to the other side of her neck. “Just being around you…” he placed an open-mouthed kiss just above her pulse point, “not being able to have you… ”

She felt his other hand steal around her waist, coming to rest firmly on her lower back.

“I – I thought you didn’t want me here…” she slid her hand up to rest at the nape of his neck, her fingers winding through his still damp, thick hair almost of their own accord.

He lifted his head, his eyes impossibly dark. “I want you here,” he said, his tone gravelly. “And I want you,” he pulled her in so that her body was flush against his, “here.”

Donna gasped out loud. She felt hot, breathless, dizzy… she skimmed her fingers gently up and down the back of Josh’s neck and watched his mouth fall slightly open as his eyes closed; and then did the first – and only – thing that entered her head.

She kissed him.

His lips were warm this time, gentler than she remembered, but everything else was the same – the heat rushing instantly through her body, the blood pounding in her ears, the way her stomach felt as though it had just dropped through the floor… all of it. She ran her tongue along his bottom lip, sucked it, nipped at it and felt him groan as he began to kiss her back hungrily, both arms now tightly wound around her waist. Donna curled her arms around his neck and feathered her fingers through his hair, whimpering as she opened her mouth under his, stunned by the intensity of the jolt of arousal that shivered through her.

When they broke apart, they were both breathing hard and Donna barely had time to catch a breath before Josh was kissing her again, his lips stroking, caressing hers. She slid her hand across his shoulders, then down so that she could fumble her way under his t-shirt, unable to wait any longer to trace with her fingers the path down his spine that she’d earlier followed with her eyes. His skin was warm and smooth to the touch, and she savored the sensation as she stroked his back, enjoying the way his muscles tensed when she hit a sensitive spot and the sounds he made when she began to rake her nails lightly up and down.

Josh broke the kiss and turned his attention to her neck once more, trailing hot open- mouthed kisses along the column of her throat down to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, where he paused to suck and lave at the exposed skin there… Donna rested her cheek lightly against his hair and nuzzled his ear, words she was no longer able to hold back falling from her lips on little more than a whisper,

“I missed you, too. So much.”

She felt him sigh into the crook of her neck, his breath caressing her skin. “Every day?”

“Every day,” she affirmed with a slight nod. “Leaving you was - ” but he lifted a finger to her lips before she could say any more.

“Don’t,” he murmured softly into her skin. “We’re here now. And it’s …” his words trailed off as instead, he pressed slow, wet kisses against her throat, stroking her other cheek with the backs of his knuckles. But she understood. He hadn’t said the words – and she knew he wouldn’t, not yet… but she didn’t need to hear them. He was showing her – had continually shown her over the years, had she but recognized it – how he felt about her and for now, it was enough. More than enough, it was more than she’d ever hoped for and indeed, over the past few months more than she’d believed possible.

Taking his face between her hands, Donna lifted his head so that she could shower him with frantic kisses before finally capturing his lips passionately, desperate now to show him that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. She kissed him with everything she had, chills and heat sweeping simultaneously through her as she felt his hands wandering over her body, his mouth, so hot and demanding on hers, the length of him, hard against her hip… and finally, she abandoned the last vestiges of her self-control and gave herself up to the myriad of feelings that were washing over her – desire, arousal, need – all of them settling deep in her belly and between her legs.

She drew back and looked into his eyes, readily acquiescing to the question she saw there - and placed a hand over one of his, gently guiding it up until it cupped her breast. He stared down, seemingly fascinated by the sight of her nipple rising up through the fabric as he brushed it gently with his thumb, flicking his gaze back to hers at the sound of the faint gasp she emitted in response. Donna pulled herself in close and kissed him again, unable to recall ever wanting a man this badly. She’d begun to wonder if she should just grab a fistful of Josh’s shirt and yank him down onto the bed with her, when the backs of her knees hit the edge of the mattress and she felt herself being pushed gently off-balance – but this time she didn’t stop herself from falling.

They landed with a dull thud amid a muffled squeak of bedsprings – but Donna was too busy pulling off Josh’s shirt to care, his half-hearted complaint - “Why did I bother getting dressed?” - muted as she dragged the garment off over his head.

“I have no idea,” she returned breathlessly, kicking off her sneakers as she dropped the shirt so that she could touch him without the fabric getting in the way. “Although,” she nipped at his neck, “I did like that towel on you.”

He pushed himself up on his elbows - and there it was; the smirk that never failed to melt her insides. “I don’t think it was the towel you were staring at.”

Donna licked her lips, a seductive grin spreading slowly across her face before she pulled him back down, smiling against his mouth when she felt him push up her top, his hands lightly stroking her flesh; impatiently, she reached for the hem and he moved out of the way so that she could tug it off. She’d barely done that when Josh covered her body with his, a contented sigh escaping her at the feeling of his bare skin pressed against hers. Then his lips were at her throat again, his hand at her breast, cupping it, fondling it, his palm brushing lightly over the hardened peak … before he trailed his lips along her collarbone and down, until his warm, wet mouth replaced his hand.

She plunged her fingers into his hair as she arched her back and moaned in pleasure, the sensations she was experiencing as his tongue licked and pushed at her nipple traveling straight to her groin and settling there as a dull ache; and when he turned his attention to her other breast, licking, sucking, teasing, his fingers continuing to play with the soft flesh his mouth had just abandoned, she thought she might just go insane with wanting him.

She watched him suckle her until suddenly, he released her from his mouth, pushed himself up and knelt over her, dipping a hand under the waistband of her pants and underwear, then pulling them off so that she was finally lying naked beneath him. She could feel his eyes roaming over her body, from the curls at the apex of her thighs, up to her breasts and finally to her face as a flush crept up her chest and neck at his frank appraisal, the look of pure lust on his face sending shivers down her spine and moisture to her sex. Her gaze never leaving his, she sat up and slid a hand inside his boxers; curling her fingers around his shaft she stroked him a few times, watched the different expressions – shock, pleasure, arousal – flash across his face, then pushed the shorts down his hips – and he rolled aside to drag and kick them the rest of the way off. When he turned back to face her, she took the opportunity to study him the way he’d studied her, running her eyes over him lasciviously; and as she looked up at his face, she had to admit that there was definitely something to be said for Josh when he was wearing nothing but a smug grin.

He leaned over and kissed her hungrily, plunging his tongue into her mouth as he returned his hand to her breast, fondling, massaging gently, then ran it slowly down the length of her torso, into the dip at her waist, over the curve of her hip… and then slipped it between her legs. Donna couldn’t help the noise that issued from the back of her throat – somewhere between a moan and a grunt; her hips arched up at his touch, and she clutched at his shoulders as his questing fingers slid along her slick folds. She felt him smile against her mouth and pulled back from the kiss to look at him, finding him regarding her with an indefinable expression. Affection, lust… awe, none of them even began to describe it, but she forgot about trying to work out what it was when Josh dropped a kiss on her forehead and made to turn away. She didn’t let him, not willing to bear the loss of his warmth, the contact with his skin. “No,” she said, pulling him down for another kiss.

“Donna,” he muttered against her lips, “I have to get - ”

She wrapped her arms around him tighter and lifted her head from the pillow to nip at his ear. “No,” she said again, “you don’t.”

He looked at her intently. “You sure?”

She held his gaze and nodded. There had been enough barriers between them to last a lifetime – and she didn’t think she could stand for there to be any more.

He leaned down to kiss her again – softly, tenderly, yet with no less passion than before, and moved so that he was above her, his weight pushing her down into the mattress. She immediately brought up her knees so that she could cradle him between her thighs, sucking in a breath when she felt his cock teasing the entrance to her body. She tilted her hips invitingly as he braced himself above her, unable to help crying out when he rubbed the blunt tip along her wetness, nudging it gently against her clit a few times … then she reached down to help guide him inside her.

Her breath coming in sharp pants, she watched him the whole time as he pushed forward slowly, biting her lip when he withdrew a little, then moaning aloud as he pressed in further, more… more… until she surrounded him completely.

He held still for a few seconds that to Donna seemed like an age, and she reached up and put her arms around him, her hips arching up into him involuntarily, her body already seeking relief from the ache that was pulsing between her thighs. He took the hint and began to move slowly, deep strokes that she was sure she could feel all the way to the tips of her toes - and she began to move with him, her hips rising and falling with his as together, they found a rhythm.

She had to touch him – couldn’t keep her hands off him, running them almost desperately over every part of him she could reach, scratching her nails lightly across his shoulders and up and down his back; tracing again the path down his spine that had so engrossed her before, clutching at his upper arms to feel the taut, hard muscle there working as he supported himself above her, and finally down to his firm, tight ass, squeezing, kneading his flesh as he continued to thrust into her.

She heard herself peppering the air with his name – and God’s - heard Josh’s heavy, uneven breathing, the noise of the bed, even the beating of her own heart as she felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge; she was hot, gasping, desperate… “Josh, please…” she moaned, cut off when he covered her mouth with his once more, a long lingering kiss before he pulled his lips from hers and kissed his way across her cheek, down her neck to her shoulder, repositioning himself so that he could take a nipple into his mouth. With every flick and lap of his tongue she could feel a tug at her sex, as though there was a direct connection between them; his movements had slowed, become less forceful, shallower, but his new position meant that he was exerting a firm, delicious pressure against her clit, and Donna arched her back, reaching behind her to grab onto the headboard for leverage as she squirmed against him, moaning louder as he switched his attention to her other breast.

Her head was spinning, the shivers and tremors of pleasure shooting through her body beginning to reach a fever pitch, when she felt Josh slide a hand down to her hip to exert a gentle pressure.

“God, Donna,” he choked out, dropping his forehead to rest on her shoulder, “you’re going to have to stop doing that if - ”

“Please…” she gasped, “don’t stop … it feels – I’m so …”

His grasp on her hip tightened as his movements slowed further. “Just… wait,” he panted harshly, “let me just …” he swallowed hard, his breath tickling her skin as he lowered his head again, and she ran her fingers through the thick hair at the back of his neck; watched, mesmerized as he ran his tongue around her aureole, didn’t think she’d ever seen anything so erotic as when he looked up at her through his eyelashes and closed his mouth over her proud, taut nipple.

She could feel his cock pulsing inside her as he continued to lavish attention on her breasts, knew he’d been trying to pull things back, slow things down – but she didn’t want slow, not now. She stroked her palm up and down his back, murmured, “Josh, I need more …” her other hand still anchored firmly to the headboard, and she pushed her hips up, clenching herself around him, pulling him in deeper… he shuddered, breathed out her name and kissed his way back up her chest, her neck, so that he could prop his elbows on the pillow either side of her head and cradle her face in his hands. He rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed, his breath warming her face, his breathing uneven and shallow, their bodies still pressed so closely together that she could feel his heart racing, sure that he must be able to feel hers, too.

“Joshua.”

He opened his eyes, looking deep into hers and she smiled gently, nuzzled his cheek, his ear, sucking on the lobe and pulling it gently between her teeth. He practically growled in response and began to move again as she kissed her way to his lips, relishing the hard length of him, hot and full inside her, the rhythmic, wet friction of his strokes re-kindling the fire in her veins as they picked up the pace once more. She was moaning and sighing into his mouth, the pressure in her sex mounting as she matched him thrust for thrust, dimly conscious of the fact that she was gripping the headboard so tightly her fingers were starting to hurt. But she didn’t care.

Donna’s world right then consisted of little else but Josh; how good he felt under her hands and inside her body… and how good he was making her feel. She lifted her head from the pillow, pressed her lips to his ear and whispered that she was close, raising her knees so they were high on his sides when Josh ran a hand down her body and slid it under her ass; clutching tightly at his back as he increased the speed and force of his movements. The change in his angle of penetration was generating more of the friction she so craved, and she gasped at the tremors of anticipation that rushed through her as he plunged deeper, harder... letting go of the headboard, she grabbed hold of his shoulders with both hands, her moans and cries becoming louder and higher pitched as she felt the tension coiled deep in the pit of her belly begin to spiral outwards. Josh continued to pound insistently into her, his face buried in the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her skin - and Donna felt primed to explode, the throbbing of her clit now almost unbearable. As if from a distance, she heard her own voice calling out for more, heard her ragged gasps and groans mingling with his grunts and sighs, the noise of the bed thumping under them and the sound of skin against skin; and she could feel her heart racing and her blood pounding – but none of it mattered because all she could really see, feel, smell, think of was Josh; he filled her mind, her senses … and her body - and it was that thought that finally smashed her into pieces, spasms of pleasure wracking her as his name burst from her lips on a piercing cry. She was writhing frantically beneath him, her nails digging into his shoulders, her fingers flexing as she clung to him… she bucked up into him, ground herself against him – and then felt him tense for a second or two just before he began to drive deeper, faster, harder, her muscles still clenching around him as with one final, forceful thrust he came. She felt his warmth spill into her, heard an uninhibited howl of release rip from his throat - and he collapsed onto her, his rapid breathing harsh against her ear.

Donna swallowed in gulps of air as best she could with Josh’s weight pressing down on her – then he propped himself up and pulled out of her slowly, rolled to one side and flopped down in an exhausted, sweaty heap next to her.

When she had recovered sufficiently to speak, all Donna could say was, “Oh, God…”

Stretched out on his back, still trying to catch his breath, Josh chuckled. “Not my name, but if you insist…”

Donna flailed an arm around, half-heartedly, the other resting over her eyes. “I don’t even have the energy to slap you for that.”

Josh snorted - and she lay there for a minute, just listening to the sound of his breathing at it slowed down and returned to normal. Lulled by the newly even rhythm, she realized suddenly that if she didn’t move soon, she was going to fall asleep right there on top of the covers, so she pushed herself up to a sitting position and swung her legs over the side of the bed, thinking that she hadn’t felt this tired in a long time. Well, no - that wasn’t true; she was always tired these days, it was an occupational hazard – but this was a different kind of tired. A huge smile crept across her face. Satisfied tired. That was it.

She heard Josh moving behind her and turned her head to find him propped up on his side, grinning at her – and they both spoke at the same time.

“What are you smiling at?”

Donna stood up and stretched. “Nothing,” she said, feeling Josh’s eyes upon her as she walked around the bed towards the bathroom. “Well,” she shot him a glance over her shoulder, watching his grin widen when she said, “Apart from - you know…”

“You want an alarm call?” she heard him call after her.

She switched on the light and looked in the mirror. “Sure.” God, her hair was a mess. “You got a spare toothbrush?”

The snort that accompanied his reply – “You’re kidding, right? Just use mine” - was loud enough to carry across the bedroom and through the half-closed door.

Donna rolled her eyes. And studiously ignored the mess of wet clothes and towels on the floor looking instead at the mess on the counter while wondering if she stood a chance in hell of actually finding Josh’s toothbrush. She picked up the wash-bag by the sink and started to look through it - then stopped at the realization of what she was doing. Rummaging through Josh’s stuff was nothing new – he could never find things and it had usually been quicker for her to look, especially as chances were she’d packed whatever it was anyway - rather, it was the fact that she was rummaging through his stuff while standing in a hotel bathroom, stark naked after she’d just had what was definitely the best sex she’d had in recent years – with Josh – and it didn’t feel weird.

She frowned at her reflection.

Well – maybe it did. Just a little. But in a good way.

Turning back to her search, she felt warm arms creeping around her waist and lips pressing against her hair. “Find it?”

“Not – ah.” She looked up at Josh’s smile in the mirror and waved the toothbrush at him, feeling him drop a kiss on her shoulder before he released her. Reaching for the toothpaste – typical – why don’t men ever learn to squeeze from the end of the tube? –she watched him pick up and dampen a washcloth and begin to clean himself off.

Donna brushed her teeth, telling herself over and over that it was silly to feel such a sense of intimacy about what they were doing. He’d just given her an orgasm, for God’s sake, and here she was, getting all sentimental about sharing a bathroom! She spat and rinsed. Clearly, she needed to have her head examined.

When they’d finished, Donna led the way back into the bedroom where she pulled back the extremely rumpled covers on the bed, climbed in and rolled onto her side, sighing contentedly as Josh slid in, too, and curled himself around her back.

“I can’t remember the last time I went to bed this early,” she said, stifling a yawn, not needing to see it to know that Josh was smirking as he replied, “Yeah, but that was before you had me around to wear you out.”

Donna turned her head to look at him. “Josh, you always wore me out.”

He ran his hand gently up and down her arm and dropped a kiss on the end of her nose. “Maybe. But this way is better.”

She couldn’t argue with that.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Josh grumbled as he flung his arm out to the side and groped blindly for the phone, the annoyingly shrill ‘chirruping’ noise it made making him want to rip the damn thing out of its socket on the wall.

Good morning. This is your six am alarm call…

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, hardly listening to the recorded voice as he opened one eye so that he could replace the receiver quickly and move his hand back to its far more pleasurable resting place on Donna’s thigh. He heard her mutter something incoherent as she snuggled herself further into his side, her head tucked under his chin, one long, shapely leg draped over one of his.

He traced a gentle pattern on her shoulder with his fingertips and rested his cheek against her hair. “What time do you have to be at the house?”

“Eight,” came the muffled reply. Then she lifted her head, bleary eyes eventually focusing on him. “Time is it now?” she yawned, and he couldn’t keep what he was sure was a pretty dork-like smile from his face at the sight of her, her skin still flushed from sleep, eyes half open, her hair a complete mess… she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Six.”

She flopped back down onto his chest. “Hmph.”

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased, wrapping his other arm around her tightly. “I gave you an extra fifteen minutes.”

“Very generous of you,” she mumbled against his skin, sweeping her hand lightly across his stomach a few times, before sliding it down to rest on his thigh.

He cleared his throat. “I thought so.”

After a few more minutes, Donna rolled out of his embrace and stretched – the way she was arching her back causing the sheet to slip down to reveal one soft, lusciously rounded breast, the dusky pink nipple firm in the cool morning air. Josh felt his cock twitch at the sight, remembering the way she’d looked under him last night, arching her back in exactly the same way as they made love. He looked at the clock. Definitely time enough for –

“Josh?”

Jolted out of his musings as to the possibility of a morning quickie - and then struck with amazement at the fact that it was actually Donna he was musing about, it took him a second or two to reply. “What?”

The ‘muse-ee’ in question snuggled back into his side. “About what you said before.”

“Hm?” he said, frowning. “I said a lot before, so you’ll have to do better than that.”

“About why you couldn’t hire me.”

“Oh,” he sniffed. “That.”

“You said it was because you didn’t want people to think you did it because you wanted to sleep with me.”

“Yes.”

“Well, they’re definitely going to think that now.”

Josh scrubbed his other hand across his face. “No, they’re not.”

She propped herself up on her elbow and looked up at him. “But -”

“Donna,” he said, running a finger down her cheek, “you’ve been here for two weeks and already people can see why you’re here - and it has nothing to do with me.”

“But - ” she tried again.

He put a finger to her lips. “And anyway,” he went on, pushing himself up to a sitting position, “I didn’t hire you. Lou did.”

Donna’s brow creased into a frown, which, God help him, he found incredibly sexy.

“Unless you’re going to tell me she hired you because she wants to sleep with you.”

She shrugged. “I’m not her type.” And then, with a wicked little half-smile, “She likes them young.”

Josh closed his eyes and groaned. “I really don’t want to know how you know that.”

Donna snorted softly and ran her hand across his chest. “Funny though; she said something similar about you yesterday.”

His eyes flew open. “I hired her because I want to sleep with her?”

Donna’s head shot up and Josh wondered how it was that she could manage to look utterly horrified and completely exasperated at the same time. “No - she asked me if you were gay.”

“How the hell do you jump from one subject to – wait. What?”

Donna was grinning at him, now. “Lou asked me if you were gay.”

Josh’s eyebrows shot into the stratosphere. “She what?”

“It would seem,” she said with a theatrical sigh, “that the local chapter of the Lyman Hos hasn’t been getting any attention from the object of its affections.”

“And that made her think – hang on,” he frowned. “There’s a local chapter?”

Donna had started to make very distracting circular motions on his chest with her fingertips. “Apparently.”

“How did I not know about this?”

“You never know about things like this, Josh, you need to be hit over the head.”

“And that’s what they mean by ‘love hurts’, is it?”

Donna’s hand stopped.

Oops.

Josh sensed she wasn’t ready for that yet; hell, he wasn’t sure he was quite ready for it either, but he didn’t plan on tabling that discussion for too long - he’d almost lost her too many times to risk it happening again.

He cleared his throat. “Donna - ” but she beat him to it and resumed the conversation, her palm once more brushing back and forth across his chest. “Well, I guess, you know, single man in his forties, talks about this mother … ”

So he followed her lead. “You know, that’s such a ridiculous stereotype – I can’t believe any self respecting Democrat - ” and at the barely suppressed smile on her face, he couldn’t help barking out a laugh. “Oh, I get it; you’re mocking me now, aren’t you?”

She shrugged. “It’s part of my charm.”

“I’ll say.” In one quick movement, Josh sat forward and pulled the sheet away from her body. “And now I want to look at the other parts.”

“Josh!” He could tell her indignation was far from genuine.

“What?” He smirked at her. “You’re finally in my bed after all this time, and you’re naked! What do you expect me to do?”

She paused and cocked her head to the side - and gave him a look through her eyelashes that shot straight to his groin. “Invite me into the shower.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Josh didn’t think he’d ever had a better morning. Standing under the steaming spray with Donna, lathering shampoo into her hair, hearing her make gentle sounds of pleasure, hell she was practically purring - as he scratched lightly at her scalp – not to mention the fact that she was wet, naked and pushing her ass suggestively against his swiftly growing erection, her hand anchored to his thigh – no, it probably didn’t get much better than this.

He nudged her under the spray so he could rinse off the shampoo. “All done,” he breathed into her ear when he’d finished, kissing his way down the back of her neck at the same time as he reached up to re-angle the shower-head, his other hand resting lightly on her hip.

He could have sworn he could hear her pouting. “We have to wash.”

“I can multitask,” he said, rolling his hips and rubbing his cock pointedly against her buttocks, moving his hands to cup the soft, generous handfuls of her breasts. He began to fondle them gently, teasing her nipples to hard points with the pads of his thumbs, enjoying her breathy moans as she rested her head back against his shoulder, the way she arched her back giving him a bigger handful of her warm, yielding flesh.

“How…” she gasped, “is this multitasking?”

He nuzzled her ear, tugging at the lobe with his teeth. “You’ll find out.”

Donna chuckled throatily, then sucked in a sharp breath as he slid his hand down her body and slipped it between her legs, running his fingers between her opening and her clit and circling there a few times with his thumb. Pleased to find she was wet from more than just the shower, he moved his hand to her thigh, encouraging her to lift her leg, which she did, resting her foot on the edge of the tub. He squeezed some shower gel into his hands and began to slide his hands over her body once more, down between her legs, up her abdomen, to her breasts… slowly up and down, his hands slippery with the gel as he massaged and teased her, working up a gentle lather along the way.

“… still not multitasking,” she panted. “You really shouldn’t make promises you can’t – oh!”

He gripped her hip with one hand and used the other to guide himself inside her, pushing up until he was sheathed in her snug, wet heat. Then he put a hand back to her breast and began to rock against her gently, gritting his teeth with the effort of holding back when what he really wanted to do was pin her to the wall, bury himself deep inside her and pound into her like a madman.

He swallowed hard. “You were saying?” he ground out, bracing one arm against the tile as he began to move a little faster, pushing in a little deeper. Her only answer was a whimper as she grabbed his thigh again and started to undulate her hips back and forth in time with his.

God, she was hot. And so wet - inside and out. Droplets of water beaded across her shoulders and collarbone, dotted in among the sprinkling of freckles on her skin, separating out into tiny streams as they ran down her breasts, dripping from the firm buds of her nipples … Josh exhaled slowly, mindful of his already waning self-control and rested his cheek against her wet hair while he continued to sweep his free hand over her body until the last of the gel had rinsed away.

“There,” he whispered harshly into her ear, his words punctuated by her soft sighs and moans, “all clean.”

Donna rested her head back against his shoulder and hooked an arm around the back of his neck, her fingers winding through his wet hair. “Thank you,” she breathed, turning up her face for a kiss, her tongue flicking lightly around his lips before pushing past them and into his mouth. As they kissed, he found her free hand with his and slid it slowly down her body until it reached the juncture of her thighs, groaning as he felt her fingers begin to guide his, showing him how she liked to be touched…

With a last tug at her bottom lip, he pulled back, took his hand away and brought it to rest on her hip. He glanced down, fascinated by the sight of Donna’s slim wrist fixed between her legs, then moved his arm and repositioned himself slightly so that he could grasp the handrail on the wall. Tightening his grip on her, he withdrew from her almost all the way, then plunged back into her slick heat as deeply as he could. She inhaled sharply - and he did it again, and again… then began to move his hips faster, gratified when he heard her breathy moans crystallizing into a high pitched series of Ohs and Mmms and other unintelligible sounds.

He kissed her cheek, nibbled her earlobe, nipped at the creamy skin of her throat, the sensation of her tight, wet passage swallowing his cock as he drove into her again and again setting him aflame and making him feel lightheaded. Through the fog of sex in his head, he could hear her gasping out Josh, that’s - oh, my - and he couldn’t hold back any longer. He sped up and she kept pace with him, impaling herself on him over and over, the slapping of their wet skin audible above the sound of the shower spray. Donna’s cries and moans were getting louder, her fingers were digging into his thigh - then he felt her muscles tighten around him at the same time as she threw her head back again – Josh… just… oh, God!… kiss me - and he took her mouth with his, muffling her scream as he wrapped his arm tightly around her waist and let himself go, pumping up into her with quick, hard strokes. Her mouth against his was hot and frantic, her muscles were convulsing and rippling around his cock and finally, finally, Jesus, Donna! - he pulled his lips from hers, shouting out his own release as he jerked up awkwardly and spent himself inside of her.

Gasping, he pulled out of her quickly so they could both regain their balance, and he held her tightly as she sagged back against him, her arms covering his where they were clasped around her waist.

Josh rested his head against hers, staring down at the pink and white of Donna’s heaving breasts as she fought to catch her breath. He smiled and pressed his mouth to her ear. “See? Multitasking.”

She chuckled throatily and turned around to face him, her expression as she wrapped her arms around his neck one of lazy satisfaction.

He ran a hand down her back, letting it come to rest on her ass, completely unable to help his smug grin. “Want me to wash your back now?”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Josh scrubbed a towel over his hair and then flung it onto a nearby chair, “All I’m sayin’ Hildy, is that - ”

Donna paused in the act of picking up her clothes from the floor by the bed. “You know,” she interrupted, narrowing her eyes at him as she straightened up, “I always wondered what it was with you and the nicknames and I really can’t believe it’s taken me this long to work it out.”

“Okay,” Josh shot her a deadpan look. “Well, instead of finishing that enlightening discussion about the importance of teacher tenure and how it’ll affect education in the twenty-first century, I’ll just let you wander off, because, you know, the future of the free world can wait.”

Donna sighed and put her hands on her hips. “All I meant was that it’s a well known fact that when men tease women by saying stuff like that it means they’re interested in them.”

Josh’s eyebrows climbed rapidly upwards. “It does?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s a well-known fact.”

“It is.”

He frowned and scratched the back of his head. “Just so I’ve got this right – how long have we known each other?”

“Almost nine years.”

“’kay. And how often, would you say, during that time, did I – how did you put it? – tease you?”

Donna rolled her eyes. “Several times a day, at least.”

“And,” he went on, pulling his t-shirt over his head, “assuming that what’s good for the goose is also good for the gander,” Josh ignored the way Donna’s mouth had dropped open as her face screwed up in a look of distaste, “how many times did you tease me?”

“I - uh -” she stammered, her eyes opening wide, “- that’s beside the - ”

“Donna.”

She pouted. “Quite a lot.”

Josh tried - unsuccessfully – not to smirk. “So how come, if it’s such a well known fact, it’s taken us almost all of those nine years to get here?” He waved his hand expansively, indicating their states of undress as well as the untidy bed.

“I said it was a well-known fact,” Donna said, huffily. “I didn’t say you knew it.”

He snorted. “Oh. Okay. So it took me nine years because I didn’t know, and it took you that long because..?”

“Shut up.” He could see her lips twitching, despite the glare she was currently sending in his direction and, fighting back his own grin, pulled on a clean shirt and began to button it.

Then Donna took off her towel so that she could get dressed and his fingers seemed to have turned into a bunch of un-cooperative sausages.

“What time are you coming out to the house?”

His throat had gone dry. “Huh? Oh - ” he sniffed and looked down at his shirt-front just to make sure he’d buttoned it correctly, “I don’t need to - you can handle it.”

Donna was silent – and he looked up to see her sporting a huge, toothy grin, as a picture of her standing in the snow with his coat around her shoulders flashed suddenly into his head.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, then Josh cleared his throat. If Donna didn’t get her clothes on soon, she wasn’t going to, Good Morning America be damned.

And again, it struck him as nothing short of amazing that he was actually thinking about Donna like that. Donna. Who, just ten minutes earlier had been yelling his name at the top of her voice while they -

He swallowed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “’k, well, uh -” he stammered, suddenly at a loss for words.

“I, um … I’d better - ” she said at the same time, her smile becoming almost shy as she turned to pick up her pants.

Josh cleared his throat again. “Okay.”

Donna finished dressing and pulled on her sneakers. “Right, well,” she said, with an almost undetectable tremor in her voice. “See you downstairs?” She pulled her hair back and secured it, stood up and glanced around the room – without looking at him once - and Josh realized with a start that she was a little on edge. Which he supposed was understandable seeing that their relationship had just undergone a pretty seismic shift. So he dropped his jeans onto the chair next to him and walked over to her where she stood by the door.

Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her tenderly – trying to pour as much reassurance into it as he could. “Donna?”

She looked up as he caressed her cheeks with his thumbs. “I meant it. When I said I want you here. With me, I mean; here, with me. Not just – uh – you know, work.”

She smiled, and he saw relief flood her features, a similar feeling washing over him as well. Thank God he’d managed to say the right thing.

He leaned in to rest his forehead against hers. “We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean last night - ” he went on, not pausing when he saw Donna open her mouth to reply. “No, let me just… I said things I didn’t mean, but there’s one thing I didn’t say, and it’s something I should have. And it’s not something I just realized or that I’m saying because we - ” – he took a deep breath, “you know. I probably never said it enough,” he pulled back, needing her to be able to see the honesty he was offering. “But when all’s said and done, you have to know I’m proud of you.

A slow, wide smile lit her face. “Really?”

“Of course I am. I’ve always been proud of you,” Josh said as he sighed and folded her into a hug. “And - ” he didn’t know if he would be able to say this if he looked at her, so instead he dropped his head to the crook of her neck and closed his eyes. “And – I need you. I need you so much it scares the hell out of me and turns me into a blathering idiot, but… well, there it is.”

He felt her breath, hot against his ear. “Josh,” she said, her voice wavering a little, “you’ve always been something of a blathering idiot.” He snorted and then shuddered when he felt her nails scratching lightly at his scalp, her fingers lightly brushing against the spot on his ear that made him groan. “But what makes you think it’s not the same for me?”

He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Thank God.

Josh turned his head to nuzzle the delicately scented skin of Donna’s throat, feathering a series of light kisses along her jaw until he reached her mouth. They took their time, indulging in a leisurely kiss that melted into a series of soft, gentle caresses which left them breathless - and when they eventually broke apart, they were both smiling.

Donna walked to the door and made to open it – but she paused, her hand on the handle, and turned back. “By the way, you were wrong before. About why I’m here.” She smiled fondly. “It has everything to do with you because I couldn’t have done it without you. I spent eight years working for you, Josh, and eight months working for someone else. All I did in those eight months was use the things you’d taught me.”

Josh was completely stunned. Then, realizing he looked like an idiot with his mouth hanging open, he snapped it shut and smirked at her instead. “You know, I think I like this better than the yelling. Although not as much as the sex.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “Josh, guys don’t like anything as much as sex.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that there had been times when just talking to her had come a pretty close second, but he stopped himself before he began to sound as big an idiot as he must have looked a few seconds ago.

She opened the door. “See you downstairs.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Josh walked out of the elevator into a busy hallway, automatically scanning his surroundings for a flash of blonde hair - and then shook his head at himself when he realized that was pretty much what he’d always done whenever he entered a room that was likely to contain Donna. He could hear Lou barking out orders somewhere ahead, Bram and Otto were squabbling about something or other – and then he saw her, coming out of the office-suite. His breath hitched in his throat at the sight of her – beautiful, assured and – amazingly - his.

Donna turned her head and smiled at him and, shoving his hands into his pockets, he made his way over to her in what he hoped was a casual manner.

“Hey,” he grinned lopsidedly at her.

Her eyebrows shot up, but she smiled sweetly back at him. “Hi.”

“Uh,” Josh began, dropping his gaze to the carpet. “You okay?”

Donna leaned in to him and lowered her voice. “You just saw me ten minutes ago.”

He turned his head to look up at her and chuckled, as much at his own behavior as anything else. He really should be able to stop himself acting like a lovesick teenager. “I know – I just - ”

“Oh, Donna.” Neither of them had noticed Lou’s approach and Josh instinctively took a small step to the side; and Donna did the same in the opposite direction.

“You ready to - ?” Lou snapped her phone shut and came to a stop in front of them fixing Donna with an unwavering gaze. Her forehead creased into a suspicious frown, she looked at Josh. Then back at Donna… Then her expression cleared, to be replaced by a genuine look of relief. “Oh, thank God, you two did it already. Now maybe - ”

“What?!” Josh actually jumped at the sound of Donna’s voice hitting a pitch that normally only bats would be able to hear.

But Lou took no notice. “Just don’t go breaking any beds, okay? Or if you do, I don’t wanna read about it in the National Enquirer.” And with that, she turned and began to walk towards the elevator, calling, “See you at the car,” over her shoulder.

Donna stared after her incredulously. “What the hell..?” she muttered before she turned back to face Josh, who was once again engrossed in the pattern on the carpet while trying very hard not to smile.

He felt her nudge his arm. “You know,” she said when he looked up, the quirk of her lips belying the wariness in her eyes, “you’re looking entirely too pleased with yourself.”

Josh hastily pulled his face into what he hoped was a more suitable expression and shrugged. “I’m just… happy.”

He stared at her for a second or two, completely unable to help the grin which was once again spreading from ear to ear. And he figured he must be two for two, because Donna was now wearing what he had long ago labeled her ‘sappy face’ – so he knew he must have said something right.

Next thing he knew, she’d grabbed his arm and was marching him off down the corridor. “Where are we - ?”

She didn’t answer, just flung them around the corner, took a quick glance around and pushed him up against the wall, crushing her mouth to his, her palms warm against his chest as she pushed her tongue past his lips and slid it against his, tasting, exploring… Josh wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her back passionately, groaning as he felt her fingers brushing his face, his neck and … how long would it be before they’d be able to go back to bed?

When Donna stepped back, her lips were wet and slightly parted, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling. She rubbed his bottom lip with her thumb, whispering, “lipstick,” then ran a hand through her hair and straightened her jacket.

Josh grinned - caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Go to work.”

End.

Number Eighteen (PG-13)

Tue, 16 Dec 2008 21:30:08 GMT

Promises, Promises (G)

Tue, 16 Dec 2008 21:27:59 GMT

This was written for ww_renaissance, when we were rewatching Take This Sabbath Day.

Usual disclaimers – These guys ain’t mine (and oh, how I hate having to say that about Josh!) – they’re Aaron’s.

Thanks to zinke for the read-through.

Originally posted 2 January 2008

Promises, Promises

Josh leaned back in his chair and swung his feet up onto the desk, tucking the phone more firmly under his chin.

“Yeah, I’ll hold.” He pulled a face, looking up as Donna walked briskly into the office, stopped on the opposite side of the desk and leaned over to stick a post-it note on the top of the folder nearest him.

He reached out to pick it up and looked at it, his brow furrowing in confusion. Then he stuck it back on the folder, returning his attention to the phone. “No, it’s fine,” he said into the receiver, drumming his fingers lightly on the desk and frowning again as Donna picked up a haphazard pile of folders and straightened them up somewhat ostentatiously (he thought) - tapping them loudly on the polished wood before setting them down next to his in-tray.

He followed her with his eyes until the person for whom he’d been holding finally made it to the phone. “Yeah – hi,” he said, a little distractedly. “Uh - I just read the revised version of the report and there are some things I - ” and now she was putting away the books he’d left on one of the visitor’s chairs earlier. “Could you just – ? Hang on.” Josh covered the mouthpiece with his hand. “Donna - what are you doing?”

Donna walked round to his computer and switched it off. “I’m tidying up.”

“I can see that, but… no, I’m here…” he said, removing his hand and tilting the receiver towards his mouth again. “Sorry about that. Listen - ” Josh kept talking as Donna lifted his feet from where he’d had them resting on a couple of blue folders, moved the folders and put his feet back down. “You’re going to have to look again at the parts that talk about the new plans for the funding, because I don’t think - ”

He started as Donna snapped shut the folder containing the next quarter’s fiscal projections that had been lying open, precariously balanced on the edge of the shelf behind him.

Rubbing his ear (just to make a point), he looked up, prepared to scowl at her, but she’d already marched around to the other side of the desk. “Yes, I know,” he said into the phone as Donna began to pick up pens and pencils and put them back into the mug he used in lieu of a desk-tidy.

Still watching her as she bustled around, Josh listened to the excuses coming from the person at the other end of the line at the same time as he tried to figure out why the hell Donna was packing up for the day in the middle of the afternoon. He was sure he must be missing – something. He just didn’t know what it was.

He squinted up at her. “No,” he continued, “I understand that, but I’m telling you now, that isn’t going to work. You can’t just - ” Donna picked up a couple of binders he’d left on the floor by his desk and then walked to the bookshelf to put them back in place. “Okay, look, I’m sorry,” Josh scrubbed a hand across his face and sat up. “I’ll call you back.”

He hung up and then rested his elbows on the desk. “Donna – ”

“It’s time to go,” she said airily as she switched off the TV.

He blinked up at her incredulously. “What the…? It’s four in the afternoon.”

She put her hand on her hip and cocked her head to the side. “It’s four on Saturday afternoon.”

“So?”

Donna just stared at him pointedly – then walked out to her desk.

After a second or two, Josh jumped up, grabbed the post-it and followed her.

“This says that you found out whale jolly locust is … what’s that? Slaying?”

“What?” She looked up, puzzled.

“This note,” Josh said, coming to stand next to her. “It says jolly locust is slaying at the … where?”

Donna narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you…? Give me that,” she said irritably, swiping the note from his hand. “It says I found out where Joey Lucas is staying.”

Josh scratched his head and took it back from her. “No, it says … wait; that says Lucas?”

“Yes.”

“Not locust?”

Donna sighed, picked up a couple of folders from her desk and made her way over to the rows of filing cabinets “You know someone called Joey Locust, Josh?”

“No,” he grinned smugly, following her. “But nor do I know anyone called Jolly Locust, so in either case, you’ve given me the address of someone I don’t know.”

She stopped walking so abruptly that Josh almost bumped into her. “Oh, for the love of God, would you just shut up?”

His grin widened. “Maybe if you trained that spider of yours better - ”

Donna put the folders in a drawer, closed it – somewhat forcefully - and turned around. “She’s staying at the Latham until tomorrow evening.”

Josh nodded and forced his face into a more sober expression. “Right.” Then he frowned again, leaned back against the cabinet and re-examined the note. “Wait. Why am I going to see Joey Lucas?”

Donna rolled her eyes. “Well, for one thing, to convince her that you’re not actually a Neanderthal slob who routinely looks and smells like he slept in a dumpster.”

Josh’s eyebrows shot up. “And for another?”

“The President told you to.”

“Oh. Yeah.” He scratched behind his ear. “That’s - hang on. Why would I want to convince Joey Lucas I’m not normally a slob?”

Donna shrugged and walked back to her desk. “Because you like her.”

Josh snorted. “I - what?”

Donna stuffed a couple of pens into the pot on her desk and reached over to switch off her computer. “You liked her. I could tell. I have an excellent sense about these things.”

Josh pushed himself away from the cabinet and ambled back into Donna’s cubicle. “You have no - ” he began; then thought better of it and cleared his throat. “And anyway, I don’t ‘like’ Joey Lucas. I mean, I didn’t dislike her, but - ”

Donna turned to face him, her arms folded. “You like her, Josh. You like women who argue with you, and she did that - and didn’t take any of your crap.”

“That doesn’t mean - ”

“You like women who argue with you.”

“I do not.”

“You do. You get this look in your eye and - ”

“I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“I don’t – wait. What look?”

Donna stared at him for a second. “I don’t know. But I know it when I see it, and it was definitely the look you get when - ”

Josh rubbed his eye. “Okay, please - just … stop.”

Donna flashed him a brief smile. “Okay.” She picked up her bag and put it on the desk. “But you like her.”

He glared at her. “Whatever.”

“Anyway, it’s time to go.”

Josh looked at his watch. “Go?”

“Yes. If we go now, you’ll have time to get cleaned up a bit.”

“Didn’t I already - ? What is this – Groundhog Day?”

Donna looked him swiftly up and down. “I’m not being seen out with you, looking like that.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I guess the suit’s still okay, but you need a shower and a shave, Josh.”

“And I need to leave here in the middle of the afternoon to do that because..?”

“Because after you’re cleaned up, we’ll still have time to get something to eat before the stores close.”

“Before the…?”

Donna folded her arms again and looked at him expectantly.

The light dawned, suddenly. “Ah.”

Donna nodded, slowly. “You promised me shoes, Josh. I take those kinds of promises very seriously.”

He sighed. “I can’t stay here, and, you know, run the country while I wait for you to come back, show me what you bought and then pretend to be interested?”

“You mean, you want to stay here, wait for me to come back, show you what you bought and then pretend to be interested?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“But - ”

“Need I remind you that it’s four in the afternoon?” She poked him in the chest. “And that I was here at nine?” He took a step backwards. “On Saturday? And that I had plans for today?”

“Yeah, for shopping,” Josh muttered under his breath.

She heard him anyway. “Exactly. And in return for the fact that I saved you from having to spend the day smelling like a trash can and looking like an idiot, I really think the least you can do is - ”

Josh held up his hands in submission. “Okay, okay,” and walked back into his office. He shrugged on his jacket and coat, patted his pockets until he found his keys and picked up his backpack, emerging to find Donna – coat on and buttoned, bag on her shoulder – waiting just outside the doorway. He switched off the light and closed the door, turning to grin at her as, settling his hand lightly against the small of her back, they began to make their way out of the bullpen.

“Come on then, Imelda.”

End.

If you want to read what happened on the shopping trip, quaggy_mire wrote a cute dialogue only fic - Shoe Shopping.

Bleak Midwinter (PG-13)

Tue, 16 Dec 2008 21:26:17 GMT

Disclaimers: I own nothing, I’m making nothing… these wonderful characters were created by Aaron Sorkin and belong to Sorkin, Wells and NBC. I’m just taking them out for a spin and will return when I’ve finished with them.

Being anally retentive about that sort of thing, I proofed it myself, so any mistakes are mine!

Category: A sort of “pre-ep” for Noël. Stanley Keyworth told Josh that he’d met with his friends before their session. This is my version of his meeting with Donna.

Spoilers: Up to 2.10 Noël.

Rating: PG-13 (subject matter)

Originally posted 22 December 2007

This came about because I wrote more material for the Noël Christmas scene in Keeping the Spirit than I ended up using, so I decided to turn it into a separate fic. I think I probably overloaded the fluff-o-meter with that one, so this might redress the balance a bit! If you've read that fic, you'll notice a little bit of recycling going on. Well, if it's good enough for Sorkin, it's good enough for the likes of me, right?

Thanks to coloneljack and zinke for the readthroughs and helpful comments.

Bleak Midwinter

Donna walked slowly towards the room to which Leo had directed her. Since he’d told her about the appointment yesterday, she’d been trying to work out what it was exactly that would be expected of her, but in reality, she’d been too preoccupied with worrying about Josh to give it a great deal of thought. Now she knew that there really was something wrong, that she hadn’t been imagining things, or acting like an over-protective mother-hen, all she could think about was that, a mere six months after he had almost died, life had thrown Josh yet another curveball.

Like he hadn’t had enough of those to contend with already.

All she really knew for sure at this point was that Josh clearly wasn’t well, that Leo had arranged for him to see a specialist - a Doctor Keyworth - and that the doctor wanted to talk to Josh’s friends and colleagues before he actually sat down with him.

Which was, of course, something about which Josh was far from pleased. Donna knew how much he would hate the fact that his friends were going to be discussing him at all, let alone with a with a total stranger - even as she hoped he would eventually be able to accept the need for it. She’d been on edge all morning, worried about what she would be asked, how she would respond - and how Josh would react when she got back. He would almost certainly poke and prod her for information about what had transpired – a thought that made her profoundly uncomfortable. It was bad enough that she couldn’t help feeling that by talking to the doctor in the first place she would somehow be committing a betrayal of Josh’s trust; she didn’t need to add to her already long list of concerns by having to worry about what he would say afterwards.

But given the way Josh had been behaving towards her recently, an interrogation after her meeting now seemed unlikely. In fact, she’d hardly seen or spoken to him at all over the last couple of days. He’d pretty much holed himself up in his office, coming out for meetings and the odd cup of coffee, and the few words they had exchanged had been stilted and completely work-related. Donna had even taken to leaving his messages on his desk rather than going through them with him, because she found herself at a complete loss as to what to say or how to act around him. In the almost three years she and Josh had known each other, she could honestly say that she’d never felt so adrift. His mood swings had become more and more pronounced, and where he had usually been a ready participant in the back-and-forth barrage of teasing that often passed for conversation with them, now he seemed to be only barely tolerating her. The exasperation he had shown her recently had been genuine – and when he’d spoken to her at all, it was as though he’d just… run out of funny. He didn’t snark her, he didn’t mock her; he was quiet and polite, but she could sense that he was barely keeping himself in check, that he was on edge all the time – even more than usual; she got the distinct impression that he was likely to explode at any minute and heaven help anyone who got caught in the blast.

Donna had been concerned about him for a while now, especially since that day he’d - expressed his displeasure at the noise levels in the bullpen - but she had told herself not to blow things out of proportion, that whatever was wrong, Josh would soon snap out of it, as was his way. He had probably had enough of people worrying about him and his state of health to last a lifetime and she certainly hadn’t wanted to start prying or fussing just because he was a little - stressed out. Knowing Josh as she did, that was something only guaranteed to make things worse. Besides, it wasn’t unusual for him to become somewhat frayed around the edges at times - she’d seen it often enough before. So she put it down to his being tired and cranky, and had been sure that he’d pull himself around like he always did.

Although now of course, she realized that she’d been deceiving herself.

Just six months earlier, Josh had been critically injured, his survival uncertain; and Donna couldn’t remember ever having been so scared. But he was a fighter. He’d fought and won; he’d pulled through and not a day had passed in the six months since that she hadn’t offered up a thank you for it – even on those days when he’d said something remarkably tactless, or kept her at the office until the early hours of the morning.

So although she’d noticed that he hadn’t seemed quite himself lately, she’d put it down to excess tiredness – or, rather, to unusually amplified levels of what she liked to call “Joshness”. With hindsight and brutal honesty though, she could admit to herself that she had never seen Josh quite like this before – and certainly not for such a prolonged period of time. It was clear to her now that she just hadn’t been ready to face the fact that there could be something really wrong, and she was furious with herself for having been so stupidly – and deliberately - blind.

But all that had changed a couple of days ago, on the morning after the Congressional Christmas party. Josh had arrived looking incredibly pale and drawn; his skin, usually pallid, looked almost gray, and there were bags under his eyes that she was sure hadn’t been there a couple of weeks before. He was unusually subdued and after saying a quiet “good morning” to her, had walked into his office and closed the door with a soft ‘click’, remaining there until he’d left for Senior Staff. When he’d returned, Donna had started to talk to him about the stack of messages she was about to hand over, when he’d just taken them absently from her hand and - without saying a word to her - had turned away and walked back into his office, closing the door quietly behind him once again.

Donna remembered standing there just looking at the closed hardwood door feeling as though she’d been struck – and it was only after Josh had left her that she had registered the fact that he had a bandage on his hand.

Unable to tear her eyes away from his door for a moment or two, her mind shifted into overdrive as she began to wonder what on earth he could have done.

She returned slowly to her desk, but she couldn’t concentrate on anything for the next hour or so – she was typing gobbledegook and having to correct herself every ten words, but try as she might she just couldn’t focus. Instead, she found herself thinking back over the past few weeks and months, recalling occasions when Josh had been behaving strangely and trying to figure out if there were any reasons for it that she could account for. And she was completely unable to stop herself from thinking about how he might have hurt himself. Obviously he’d injured his hand somehow, but… she didn’t think the dressing had been applied by a medical professional. So why – if he’d cut himself or had some sort of accident which had resulted in a wound that required a bandage – wouldn’t he have gotten it seen to properly?

She was so preoccupied with her thoughts, that she hadn’t noticed Josh coming out of his office; she was sure that she had a guilty look on her face when she’d spun around at the sound of his voice. He had handed her a stack of memos to type, but hadn’t looked at her once, his voice a flat monotone as he’d told her what he needed – and Donna had been so shocked at his expressionless face that she’d unthinkingly blurted out what had been uppermost in her mind – “What did you do to your hand?”

A brief frown had crossed his face as he’d looked down at his injury, almost as if he were seeing it for the first time – and then, still not looking at her, he’d just mumbled something about having cut it on a glass at home, turned away and walked out of the bullpen through the swing doors.

Donna had been sitting holding the stack of memos in her lap as she looked after him, her mind racing with suspicions and doubts that dogged her for the rest of the day.

And the next.

Finally, when she’d run through just about every worst-case scenario she could think of – severe stress, depression, breakdown - she’d screwed up her courage and pushed aside her concerns about what Josh would say and do when he found out – and had gone to speak to Leo.

But as it had turned out, Leo had had concerns of his own. He’d listened to her calmly, taken her fears seriously – and had then told her what had happened in the Oval Office a couple of days earlier. And also that he’d arranged for a doctor – a trauma specialist – to see Josh in a few days time. Donna had been relieved to discover that she wasn’t the only one who had noticed the increasing irrationality of Josh’s behavior; but her relief had been short-lived, replaced by a wholly different sort of anxiety as Leo explained that the specialist had requested to speak to Josh’s friends about their impressions and concerns before meeting with Josh himself.

So now, here she was. Making her way to a meeting room at the opposite end of the building to discuss her boss with a complete stranger. Despite his high profile and visibility within the administration, Josh was actually an incredibly private person. He rarely, if ever talked about himself or his own ambitions – everything he did or said was geared towards helping the President and he liked to keep it that way. Josh could be incredibly charming or a complete bastard, depending on what it was he wanted to accomplish, but Donna was one of the few people who knew what was really underneath all the bluster and bravado. That he was an incredibly caring man who poured everything that he was into everything that he did – yet who never thought that anything he did was enough.

She forced herself to keep walking. She just couldn’t shake off the thought that by doing this she was being disloyal to Josh, the idea that she might somehow be letting him down making her feel physically sick. She had to keep reminding herself that finding out what was wrong and helping him had to outweigh all other concerns; that it really was a case of doing this for his own good, no matter how pissed he might be in the short-term.

Arrived at the door, she took a deep breath in an attempt to steady her nerves, knocked and entered.

Sitting at the table was an attractive, dark-haired man, who she guessed was probably just a few years older than Josh. He stood and extended his hand.

“You’re… Donna Moss?”

She shook his hand and smiled briefly in greeting. “Yes.”

“Stanley Keyworth. Please,” he gestured to the chair opposite him, “sit.”

“This is my colleague, Kaytha Trask,” he said when she’d done so, indicating the young woman sitting unobtrusively in the corner of the room.

Donna nodded towards Ms Trask and turned her attention back to the doctor as he asked; “I hope you don’t mind if she takes notes?”

“No,” Donna said, wondering momentarily what would have happened if she had said she did mind. “It’s fine.”

She pulled her chair into the table and settled her hands in her lap, fighting the urge to bite her lip – it was a nervous habit and she really shouldn’t…

“Okay,” Doctor Keyworth rested his clasped hands on top of the folder in front of him. “You know why I’m here.”

Donna swallowed. “Yes.”

“Good,” he said, opening the folder. “So. How long have you been Josh’s assistant?”

“About three years. Since the campaign.”

“And you’re friends.”

“Yes.”

“Good friends?”

“Yes.”

“Mr McGarry tells me that you’ve raised some concerns with him about Josh’s recent behavior.”

Donna hesitated before replying, twisting her hands nervously in her lap. “Yes.”

There was an expectant pause. Then when Donna said nothing more, Doctor Keyworth prompted, “Could you tell me about them?”

I - ” Donna paused and licked her lips before she replied. “I’m sorry, Doctor,” she smiled nervously. “It’s just… I don’t know you, and Josh – he places a great deal of trust in me and -”

The doctor leaned forward slightly and looked at her reassuringly.

“Donna. First of all, it’s Stanley. And second of all, nothing you say to me will leave this room. Leo McGarry called me here because he’s concerned about Josh and I’m here to help.” He shrugged and sat back. “That’s it.”

Donna paused a moment longer, trying to resolve the conflict raging inside her. She knew how much his job meant to Josh, and how his reputation could be seriously damaged if it turned out that there was something psychologically wrong with him. But if that really was the case, then he needed help, and he needed it now, before things had a chance to get any worse.

She sucked in a shaky breath. “Josh is… he’s not himself. He covers it well, and I don’t think most people have noticed, but he’s - different. I don’t think he’s sleeping well, if at all; he’s on edge all the time.” She allowed herself the tiniest of smiles at that. “I mean, Josh is pretty highly strung most of the time, but this is more than that.”

“In what way?”

“It’s hard to -” she frowned, searching for the right words. “Josh works harder than anyone I know, except maybe Leo – Mr McGarry - and the President. He’s volatile, he’s incredibly smart, he’s funny. But lately, it’s as though… I don’t know – he’s still all those things, but they’re “off” somehow. I can’t really explain it… you see, humor’s like – a defense mechanism for him. But it’s as though his timing’s off.”

Stanley nodded and jotted a note on the pad in front of him, the look on his face when he’d finished urging her to continue.

“And now he’s just … quiet.”

“Quiet?”

Donna smiled, wryly. “Believe me, there are times when all of us wish Josh would shut up more, but this… this is – it’s not him. He … doesn’t do quiet.”

Stanley nodded again - but said nothing and, finding herself suddenly uncomfortable with the ensuing silence, Donna felt compelled to keep talking.

“And a few weeks ago, he was …”

“What?”

Donna shook her head. “No. It’s nothing.”

“Donna?”

“Really, it’s not worth - ” she dropped her gaze to her lap, where her fingers were picking idly at imagined pieces of fluff on her skirt.

“Don’t you think you should let me be the judge of that?” Stanley said softly. “If I’m going to be able to help Josh, I need as much information as possible - even if you think it’s not important.” When Donna looked up, it was to find him regarding her intently. “So,” he began again. “Tell me what happened.”

Donna dropped her gaze and stared at the table. “Josh is - I said he’s volatile. He yells and hollers, but he’s one of those people who’s quick to blow up and quick to calm down. Despite what he says, he doesn’t hold grudges - well, not for himself anyway – and he’s never … mean.”

She reached for the glass of water in front of her and took a couple of sips.

“But a few weeks ago… God, this is so silly… I had a date after work, but Josh had a meeting and wanted me to come back. And he was … he said - ” she stopped suddenly and waved a hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter what he said, the point is it was nasty and – he’s not like that.” She glanced up at Stanley before dropping her gaze back to her hands, now clasped tightly together in her lap. “Not to me,” she added softly.

“Okay.” Stanley pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “So tell me what prompted you to speak to Leo.”

Donna took another deep breath. “He cut his hand. Josh, I mean. He… he came in yesterday with a bandage on his hand.”

“Did you ask him about it?”

“I – I tried to.”

“What did he say?”

“That he’d cut it on a glass at home.”

“But you didn’t believe him.”

“I – I’m not…” Donna was wrestling with her conscience, hating herself for what she was about to say. “No, I didn’t.”

“You think he lied,” Stanley said, flatly.

Donna looked up, her gaze flicking from Stanley’s face to the tabletop and back. “I know he did. Josh doesn’t …” she swallowed hard and licked her lips. “See, there are times when he can’t tell me things. It’s the way it has to be and I understand that and it’s fine. But - he doesn’t lie.”

“How do you think he did it?”

Donna stared at him, taken aback. She had her own ideas – but she wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing by sharing what was, after all, a baseless supposition. “I – uh, I don’t really - ” she stammered, uncomfortably. “I’m just… sure he didn’t do what he said he did,” she finished, in a small voice.

There was a pause. “Okay.” Stanley scribbled something else on his pad, and then looked up at her again. “So that, and the fact that he’s not himself is what made you go to Leo?”

Donna paused. “Basically, yes.”

“Basically?”

“Well … I was thinking – I mean, since Leo told me you were coming and you wanted to speak to me, I’ve been thinking and trying to work out if there was anything that might have, I don’t know, upset Josh or pissed him off or…”

“And what did you come up with?”

“Well, he didn’t like the bagpipes that were playing in the foyer.”

Stanley’s expression changed to one of amused surprise.

“Bagpipes?”

Donna couldn’t help smiling, too. “Yes. For some reason, Toby – Toby Zeigler – had elected himself the spirit of Christmas and he was sort of auditioning musical acts for the foyer – you know, to have music playing when people were coming and going. And one of those was a group of pipers.”

“Well, I don’t know about you,” Stanley went on, deadpan. “But somehow I don’t think Josh is alone in not liking the sound of bagpipes. It’s… pretty horrible.”

Donna’s smile widened. “It is. But,” she continued, contemplatively, “he didn’t like the brass quintet either. Which is odd, because Josh likes music. He sometimes plays classical music when we’re working late, stuff I’ve never heard before, or that I’d even imagine him knowing or liking…” Donna smiled softly, remembering some of those late nights … they’d finish working in the early hours, but would be too psyched to go straight home, and Josh would scrabble around in a drawer and bring out a CD. Schubert, Brahms, Bach, Mozart… he’d put some music on and they’d sit there and talk for a while, or just listen together quietly.

She snapped herself back to the present and hastily cleared her throat. “Anyway, thinking back on it, that was strange.”

“Alright. Was there… anything else?”

“Well - ” Now she’d begun, Donna found herself unable to stop. She’d been concerned about Josh for weeks and had just walled it all up, telling herself everything would be alright and that he’d be back to normal in no time - but now it was as though the dam had burst and she couldn’t stop recounting everything, every memory, every suspicion that had entered her mind over the last few weeks.

She sat up a little straighter and pushed her hair back behind her ear. “About three weeks ago, an F-16 left its formation and nobody knew why. They couldn’t contact the pilot - they knew he was alive but they didn’t know what had gone wrong. Leo asked Josh to look into the pilot’s background, find out a bit about him, but before Josh got very far the news came in that the plane had crashed into a mountain and he - the pilot, Robert Cano – was dead.”

Stanley nodded, non-committally. “Go on.”

“One of the things Josh had had time to find out about Cano was that he’d been shot down over Bosnia.”

Stanley made another note.

“And also – and this is an odd coincidence. They shared a birthday.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And it… I don’t know, it really shook him up, somehow.”

“Hm. And the pilot?”

Donna frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“What happened? You said the plane crashed into a mountain.”

“Yes.” Donna felt her mouth go dry suddenly, her earlier determination to tell Doctor Keyworth as much as she could starting to seep away. There were some things she hadn’t told anyone, suspicions that had begun to crowd into her mind over the last twenty-four hours that she hadn’t voiced to anybody – things she’d just begun to acknowledge to herself, in fact. And the idea of saying… of even suspecting that Josh could … well, it was just too ridiculous. Really, what evidence did she have for any of it?

She looked down at her hands and tried to inject a note of assurance into her voice that she really didn’t feel. “I don’t know if I should be telling you this. I’m just speculating. I mean, it could - ”

Stanley looked at her earnestly. “Donna, what I said before about nothing you say to me leaving this room? It’s still the case.”

In an agony of indecision, Donna reached for her glass of water once more, taking a couple of sips in an effort to buy herself some time. Surely the conclusions she’d begun to draw were at best unlikely…

But if they weren’t, and she said nothing…

She made her choice - and set the glass down carefully in front of her. “Robert Cano was a highly trained pilot,” she said quietly, doing her best to keep an even tone. “I’m sure you know the sorts of psychological tests and evaluations they have to go through. What happened to him - it wasn’t an accident. He didn’t black out or have a heart attack, he was alive when the plane crashed.” Donna lifted her head and forced herself to look Stanley resolutely in the eye, almost as if she were daring herself to put her fears into words, finally. “He committed suicide.”

Stanley just nodded and raised his eyebrows a little, but otherwise his expression didn’t change. He continued to look at her impassively as he said, “And that’s your concern. You think Josh might be suicidal?”

Donna felt as though she’d been punched in the gut. A wave of nausea passed over her, so strong that it made her feel dizzy, and she noticed vaguely that her hands were shaking. She had thought she was prepared for this – from the moment she had embarked on telling the doctor the story of the pilot and how unsettled Josh had been afterwards, she had known that this was where the conversation was going. But now it had come to it, she wasn’t prepared at all and she couldn’t stop Stanley’s words echoing round and round in her mind. As long as the notion had only been in her head, she could keep telling herself just how irrational it was; as long as it was a thought not given voice, she could pretend it wasn’t really there at all, but now, hearing the words spoken made it real and solid, something she could no longer ignore or mock herself for even considering.

She tried to speak and found herself unable to do so. She could feel her mouth moving, forming words she couldn’t say until finally, “No,” a mere croak, emitting from the back of her throat somehow stole past her parched lips. Then –

“No.”

She could feel tears running down her face, and for a split second wondered when she’d begun to cry –

“No!” she sobbed, jumping up and slamming her hand down on the table violently. “He wouldn’t – he couldn’t - ” and then she collapsed back into her chair, covering her face with her hands.

“Donna?” Stanley’s voice, soft but firm cut through the myriad of thoughts and fears rushing around in her brain. “Donna, look at me.”

Donna heard the sound of a chair scraping and opened her eyes to find a box of tissues practically under her nose; she looked up to see Kaytha Trask smiling down at her reassuringly. “It’s okay,” she nodded towards the box and Donna pulled out a handful of tissues.

Kaytha put the box on the table and returned to her seat.

Donna blew her nose.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffed. “It’s just… Josh has gone through a lot, you know? He’s lost so much and now …” her voice dropped to a whisper, “it’s almost as though he’s losing himself, and I can’t bear it.”

Donna sat quietly, her gaze focused on the tissues she was now shredding in her lap. When she eventually looked up, it was to see Stanley purse his lips and nod. “Okay.”

Donna’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Okay?”

“Okay.” He tipped his head to the side. “Unless there’s anything else you want to tell me?”

She shook her head. “Do – do you think you can help him?”

“I’ll do my best.”

She sighed. “He’ll hate it.”

Stanley chuckled, softly. “I’m used to it.”

“No, really he’s… he doesn’t let people in easily. He’ll be flippant and obstructive, and he’ll needle you, and he’ll crack jokes and - ”

“Donna,” he smiled, wryly. “I’ve had a lot of experience at this.”

Donna’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean – that is, I… it’s just Josh is so - ”

“Don’t worry about it,” Stanley said, dismissively. “It’s natural to be concerned about the people we care about and I know this must have been difficult for you. But you’ve helped. By telling me all this, you’ve helped already.” Donna smiled, weakly. “Josh is lucky to have friends like you looking out for him.

Donna blew her nose again and stood up. “Okay, well, I’d better…” she inclined her head towards the door.

“Sure.” Stanley pushed back his chair and stood facing her across the table. Donna bit her lip. “Will… will he be okay?”

Stanley walked her to the door. “I can’t say anything for sure until I’ve seen Josh. But I can tell you the same thing I’ll tell him – we get better.”

Donna turned and looked up at him intently. “Thank you,” she said, softly. “And if there’s anything else…”

“I’ll let you know.”

With a swift nod, she opened the door and walked out into the corridor, making her way to the bathroom so that she could splash some water on her face and fix her make-up before she returned to her desk.

Staring at herself in the mirror as she washed her hands, Donna realized that Doctor Keyworth had been singularly non-committal. Which she guessed was to have been expected – after all, to have speculated as to his patient’s condition when he hadn’t yet met him would have been unprofessional to say the least. But still, she couldn’t help the fact that she’d hoped to have learned a little more about what might be wrong with Josh.

When she got back to her desk, Josh’s door was closed once more - and it was with a not inconsiderable degree of surprise that she realized she was disappointed. She almost couldn’t believe she was thinking it, but right then, she would have given anything for Josh to have flung open his door, walked into to her cubicle and started fiddling with things on the desk prior to bombarding her with flippant, sarcastic questions about the doctor and what they’d talked about in the session.

But he didn’t.

She stared at the door again, thinking back to what Josh had said before about his hand. She hadn’t believed his explanation - and the one which had taken root in her mind, the one she’d suggested to Leo - was beginning to seem more and more likely. She’d seen Josh angry enough to slam his hand into a wall before now, so the idea that he could have been furious enough to slam it into something else wasn’t at all beyond the realms of possibility.

But the thought that he could be going through something so painful as to make him turn that frustration inwards made something inside of her twist so sharply as to cause an actual, physical ache.

She swallowed hard and turned back to her computer, picking up the first in the pile of memos Josh had given her earlier, trying to focus on the one point of hope that Stanley had given her.

“We get better.”

She fervently hoped, for Josh’s sake, that that was true.

End.

Keeping the Spirit Part One (PG)

Mon, 15 Dec 2008 22:45:38 GMT

Disclaimers: I own nothing, I’m making nothing… these wonderful characters were created by Aaron Sorkin and belong to Sorkin, Wells and NBC. I’m just taking them out for a spin and will return when I’ve finished with them. Although I’ve got first dibs with Josh under the mistletoe, okay?

Being anally retentive about that sort of thing, I proofed it myself, so any mistakes are mine!

Category/Pairing: Josh/Donna (of course!), plus a few special guests… fantasy, angst, fluff, but definitely AU and completely round the bend. And don’t forget the mush. It’s Christmas!

Spoilers: Up to Impact Winter, S6 – after that, you’re on your own!

Originally posted between 17 and 21 December 2007

Well, it is done and I did it. For all I said “never again” after last year’s Christmas Extravaganza, the plot bunny visited me early this year and this is the result.

Any similarities you may spot to a well known Christmas favourite are, of course completely intentional; do I hear cries of Bah, Humbug! from the back??

And yes, I’ve been mean, I admit it! But you know I’d never do these guys any permanent damage, right?

A/N 2: I’m dedicating this one to quaggy_mire. She was in at the beginning and helped me to sort out the mess in my head so I could get started – but unfortunately, wasn’t able to cross the finish line with me this time around because of other commitments. She’s had a bit of a crappy time of it lately, and I hope that if she’s reading this, there are bits of it at least that will make her smile!

Also – the biggest THANK YOU and sloppiest smoochies I can muster go out to coloneljack who has been so amazingly helpful and supportive throughout the gestation of this monster, and to zinke for her help and encouragement – you wouldn’t believe what they’ve had to put up with from me - they deserve medals!

(If you want to read Josh’s version, Josh’s Holiday Carol by akalettucehead can be found here.)

Oh, and by the way? That rumbling noise you can hear is Charles Dickens turning in his grave…

Keeping the Spirit - Part One

When the phone started ringing late on Christmas Eve, Donna couldn’t help the lurch at the pit of her stomach and brutally squashed the small sliver of hope that had set her heart beating a little faster in her chest. Berating herself for her stupidity and telling herself not to be so pathetic and needy, she forced herself to stand still, arms folded tightly as she glared down at the phone, waiting until she heard the soft click and beep as the machine picked up the call.

“Donna, honey? Are you there?”

She shook her head. Of course it wouldn’t be him. Never in a million years would he even think of calling to apologize, or to talk – and especially not to ask her to come back.

Donna was tempted to do as she’d done the day before and let her mother leave a message, but her conscience wouldn’t let her do that - so with a heavy sigh, she reached for the receiver.

“Hi, mom.”

“Oh, you’re there.”

Obviously.

Donna rolled her eyes and fought back a sarcastic retort. “Yeah, I’m here. I was just…” she eyed the remnants of the lasagna of which she’d forced herself to eat a little earlier, “doing the dishes. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, honey. You haven’t called for a while, and I missed you yesterday, so I… I just thought I’d try again - you know, see how you are.”

Donna flopped down onto the sofa. “I’m fine,” she sighed.

“You don’t sound fine.”

“I am. I’m just… tired, that’s all.”

Marjorie didn’t reply and Donna bristled at the implied criticism. “What? I’m fine, honestly. Just tired – and the cold makes my leg ache sometimes.”

“Donna.” Her mother sighed at the other end of the line. “You haven’t seemed like – well, like yourself the last few times we’ve talked. I’m just concerned about you, that’s all. It’s been a… you’ve had a tough time and – I’m just - ” she cleared her throat. “I don’t mean to pry or anything, but are you sure you’re okay?”

Donna could feel herself becoming exasperated. She loved her mother – really she did – and they’d always had a good relationship, but ever since Gaza, Donna had started to feel as though she was being suffocated. It seemed that Marjorie never believed her these days when Donna said she was fine, and she was getting tired of saying the same thing every time they spoke. And adding to her unease was the knowledge that she’d have to tell her mother what she’d done sooner or later, and she was dreading the interrogation which would surely follow her news. She’d hoped to put it off until after Christmas; with any luck, she’d have found a new job by then, and would be able to divert her mother’s curiosity onto that, rather than having to endure the inevitable questioning about the one she’d left. But her mother had already sensed that something was up and Donna knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t be allowed to finish this conversation without offering an explanation.

“Mom, I’m fine. Really. I’ve just been busy, that’s all.”

Her mother chuckled softly. “In that job, you’re rarely anything else.”

Donna allowed herself a small smile. “True.” She paused. This was it. “But, well … you know I’ve been feeling a little, I don’t know – restless - for a while?”

“I know you said you were trying to get Josh to give you a promotion or more responsibility or something.”

“Yeah,” Donna said quickly, needing to get this over with, “well that didn’t work out. So,” she took a deep breath in anticipation of the negative comment she was sure would be forthcoming. “I quit.”

Her mother seemed to have been stunned into silence. Donna picked absently at some non-existent lint on her pant leg while she waited for her to speak. Eventually, Marjorie said, “I’m sorry, dear. What do you mean you quit?”

“I mean I left, mom.”

“You left Josh?”

Donna sat bolt upright. “No! Why does everyone ask me that?” She recalled Ginger’s having the exact same reaction when she’d told her she was leaving. “I quit my job!”

“I’m sorry dear,” her mother said again. “I didn’t mean to… but you have to admit, your job has been pretty much tied up with Josh these last eight years – the pair of you have been – well, not exactly inseparable, but - ”

“Well, it’s different, okay?” she snapped. “I’ve left my job and I’ve started looking for something else. Something better, something where I’ll be able to grow professionally and show what I’m really capable of.”

“Oh.” Despite her mother’s upbeat tone, Donna could tell she was somewhat taken aback. “Well… good for you.”

Donna jumped up off the sofa and started to pace around the room, ignoring the sudden twinge in her thigh. “Honest to God, mom! - could you sound a little happier for me?”

“I’m sorry – it’s just a bit – unexpected, that’s all. Not to mention sudden; I mean you haven’t said - ”

“Actually, it’s not at all sudden,” Donna interrupted. “I’ve been thinking about it for weeks – months, maybe.”

“Really? You never said – ” Donna heard her mother take a deep breath. “So what did Josh say when you told him?”

“Nothing. Well, he told me I couldn’t quit, but other than that - ”

“Hang on,” her mother’s tone had taken on a no-nonsense quality all of a sudden, “you didn’t talk to him about it?”

“What was there to talk about? I wanted to do more, he wouldn’t listen, so - ”

“I’m sorry, Donna – let me get this straight.” Donna could feel the resentment rising in her like bile, feeling suddenly as though she was a naughty child being given a stern talking-to, rather than a mature woman who had finally taken control of her own destiny. “You just walked out, after nearly eight years – without even talking to him about it?”

Donna let out a deep breath in an effort to calm herself. “Mom, I’ve been trying to talk to Josh for weeks, and he’s blown me off every time. Seriously, he’s a master at not talking about things he doesn’t want to talk about. You have no idea what he can be like - ”

“No, I don’t. But I got to know him a little when you – in Germany,” her mother said, carefully. “Oh, I’m not saying we’re best friends or anything like that, but … well, it was clear from the way he talked about you that he thinks very highly of you.”

Donna sat down again. “Well, he’s got a funny way of showing it.”

“Maybe he has.” Her mother’s voice was steely. “Because clearly, he flew half way around the world when you were hurt just to make sure he’d still have someone to type his memos and answer his phone.”

Donna couldn’t disguise her annoyance any longer. “Pretty much, yes, that’s exactly what he did. And I can’t believe you’re taking his side - ”

“I’m not taking sides, Donna! I’m just trying to understand what’s going on, and all I’m saying is that he obviously cares about you.”

“Well, ‘obviously’ to everyone except me.”

“What on earth..?”

“Maybe if he’d made it clear just how,” Donna paused, unable to contain her anger; she was shaking as she spat out, “valuable he found me before, I would have found myself another job long ago instead of wasting my time - ”

“Donna!” Her mother sounded shocked. “How can you possibly think that you’ve wasted your time in that job? You work at the White House, for goodness’ sake!”

Donna sucked in a shaky breath. “That’s not what I - ” she swallowed. “Look. I know you like Josh, but you don’t know what he’s really like, what’s happened these past few months.”

“No? Then why don’t you tell me?”

“I can’t. It’s – complicated. I just – I just figured out a few things, and … ” Donna sighed, feeling suddenly deflated. “You know what? I don’t really think I want to talk about this any more. I’m sorry if you’re disappointed in me, Mom, but - ”

“Oh, darling,” her mother said hastily, “of course I’m not disappointed in you, I could never be that. As long as it’s what you want – as long as you’re sure you’re doing the right thing …”

“Yeah…” Donna breathed, admitting to herself for possibly the hundredth time that day that she wasn’t sure about either of those things.

The silence that followed weighed heavily in the air. Then Donna spoke again, changing the subject with the hope that the note of brightness she was trying desperately to inject into her voice would be enough to satisfy her mother that she was confident that she was, indeed, doing the right thing.

“Okay. So, I’ll see you on the twenty-sixth.”

“Oh, good.” Donna could tell her mother wasn’t buying anything – but was at least relieved that she’d followed the lead and accepted the change of subject. “You managed to get a flight.”

“A late one, but yes, I did. Sorry I couldn’t get something earlier, but it was all there was.” Donna winced at the lie – there had been flights available earlier in the day – and even some before Christmas - but she hadn’t wanted to be home for too long and had opted instead for the latest one she could get away with.

She really didn’t know for just how long she’d be able to keep up the charade in front of her family that everything was fine, that she was well and happy, that she was her “old” self, when underneath it all she was heartsick, miserable… and angry.

There was always anger these days, bubbling just below the surface. Anger about what had happened to her, anger at herself for all the time she’d wasted waiting for something which was never going to happen, anger at Josh for – oh, innumerable things. Sometimes she managed to keep it under wraps - sometimes not -

I used to love peppermint ice cream too, but now, those little pieces of candy? They get stuck in my teeth in a way that I find irritating.

- and when she did give into it, it had usually been Josh who had borne the brunt of it.

But she refused to feel guilty about that. He had, after all, been holding her back for years. She thought she was entitled to a degree of resentment.

Now though, she was determined to keep all that under wraps. She was going to maintain a professional, self-possessed exterior – and the last thing she needed was to be spending time with people who knew her well enough to see past the façade she was still busily constructing.

“That’s okay, honey,” her mother said quietly, and Donna could practically feel her disappointment. “I understand.”

No, mom, you really don’t.

How could Marjorie understand what her daughter was going through when Donna wasn’t sure she fully understood it herself? The revelation of her own, willful blindness still stung - even now - and the one thing of which she was certain was that she couldn’t go back to the way things had been. Even if it meant practicing a small deception on the people who knew her best.

Pushing the thought aside, Donna cleared her throat. “Dad’s okay to pick me up from the airport?”

“Yes,” she could hear the resignation in her mother’s voice. “Or Thomas said he would.”

“Great. Well… ” Donna tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “I’d… uh, better get back to the dishes.”

“Oh. Okay. Well – see you in a couple of days.”

Donna forced a smile, even though there was no one there to see it. “Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”

The pause that followed was slightly too long – but Donna’s mother clearly thought better of whatever it was she’d been about to say, because all she said was, “Me too. I’ll call tomorrow, but Merry Christmas, anyway.”

“Thanks, mom. You, too. See you soon.”

“Bye, dear.”

Donna ended the call, tossed the phone to one side and rubbed her hands over her face. That had gone pretty much as she’d expected – although she had to admit she’d hoped her mother would have been more supportive. Donna had expected her to express surprise at her decision to leave her job, and perhaps even to ask if she was sure she’d made the right decision, but to have actually taken her to task about how she’d treated Josh … well that was unfair.

Of course, her mother’s opinion of Josh had skyrocketed since Germany. Not that she’d had anything against him before; the few times they’d met in the time Donna had been working for him, he’d been utterly charming (despite being unable to resist making the odd crack about cheese), but since her – accident - Marjorie seemed to have been harboring the mistaken impression that Josh’s actions in flying out there spoke of more than mere friendship towards her daughter. Donna had, of course, done her best to disabuse her mother of that notion, but she nonetheless got the feeling that the idea hadn’t been completely dismissed.

She looked over at the dim glow cast by the lights twinkling on the small Christmas tree standing in the corner of the room. Why had it been such a shock to people that she would leave her job? Sure, she’d been there a long time, but everyone had to move on sometime, didn’t they? And what was so wrong about her wanting to better herself? She’d come a long way since she’d started working for Josh, she knew, but since the night of the lockdown, she’d come to realize that for the last year or two she’d been doing little but treading water - and that Josh wasn’t at all interested in helping her to further her career.

Donna tucked her legs up under her on the sofa. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so miserable, so – empty. And she really shouldn’t feel like that, not now. She’d taken action, taken control and was determined to find herself a new job, one that would offer her more opportunities and more potential for professional development than the one she’d left. She should be celebrating. She should be happy. But she was far from happy and celebrating was the last thing on her mind.

She picked up the phone from where she’d dropped it earlier and sat, staring at it for a few seconds, then got up and put it back on her desk.

Damn him.

He hadn’t even tried to contact her. And Donna was furious at the small part of her that was still hoping he would. But she knew that really wasn’t Josh’s style. The man who could walk into a room of hostile congressmen and not bat an eyelid was hopeless when it came to personal confrontations. His usual manner of dealing with such situations was to ignore them in the hope they’d go away. Donna snorted bitterly as she sat down again. After three weeks of ignoring her, he’d got what he wanted – she’d gone away. Although knowing Josh, he hadn’t taken her seriously and had been expecting her to show up for work the following morning.

Which would have been when he’d discovered his mistake.

Donna squashed down the feelings of guilt that were beginning to surface. Josh had brought this upon himself. She’d done her best, she’d tried to warn him, to get him to see that she was serious about wanting to do more, but he’d refused to listen. So when he’d arrived to find a temp at her desk – well, he had no one to blame for that but himself.

But… this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to have talked to Josh about her decision calmly and rationally, explained that she needed to move on, thanked him properly for everything he’d done for her – and perhaps, somehow they’d have found a way to remain friends at least, possibly even -

Donna let out a bitter laugh. What on earth was she thinking? CJ’s words that night months ago -

It’s not the White House. It’s him.

- had been echoing in her head almost daily since they’d been spoken, and while Donna had done her absolute best to deny it, even to herself – now, sitting on the sofa in her darkened apartment, with nothing to gain by denial or evasion – she admitted – not for the first time - that CJ had been right on the money. Donna had remained in her job for far longer than she should have because of Josh. Because she liked working for him. Because she liked him. Because she loved him.

She could feel tears pricking at her eyes, but she wasn’t going to let them fall. That wasn’t who she was any more – that naïve girl, so transparently devoted to a man who would never feel the same way. It was a couple of years late, but she was moving on, determined to build her own career, and she supposed she should feel grateful that the veil had at last fallen from her eyes. That she had finally been able to see that Josh’s desire to keep her with him had nothing to do with her as a person, and everything to do with the fact that she was a damn good assistant and that he’d have trouble finding anyone else who could do the job half as well and who would be able to put up with him; with his moods and his unreasonable demands.

Unreasonable?

Donna shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to start feeling nostalgic or looking back through rose-tinted glasses. Josh was nothing if not mercurial – his temper was evil on the rare occasions when he really lost it, and there had been times when he’d treated her like little more than a maid. Where in her job description had it said she was supposed to pack his bags or make sure he didn’t run out of clean shirts?

But then again, he’d never actually asked her to do any of that. She’d just fallen naturally into the habit of making sure he had everything he needed for a trip and that he had some clean clothes at the office. After the incident with the fishing-waders, she’d decided not to leave anything to chance.

Still, Josh had never stopped her from doing those things, either. She supposed she could at least blame him for that – that he’d gotten so used to all the things she did for him that he’d taken them – and her – for granted. She huffed in annoyance as she picked up the remote and switched on the TV. She wasn’t going to think about him any more. She’d spent enough time thinking about Josh and about her past - now it was time to start looking towards the future. Although for now, she’d settle for something to make her feel a little less miserable. Idly, she began clicking through the channels – and stopped when she stumbled across one of her favorite movies. It must have started a while ago, because George Bailey was offering to lasso the moon for Mary, but Donna settled down to watch, nonetheless. She swung her legs up onto the sofa, pummeled a couple of cushions up against the arm and pulled down the afghan from the back, snuggling down until she was comfortable. If It’s a Wonderful Life couldn’t get her out of her funk and into the spirit of Christmas, then she didn’t know what could.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Donna woke and sat up slowly, pulling the afghan around her for warmth. She’d fallen asleep and left the television on – George was running through the snow yelling Merry Christmas! to Bedford Falls, so she’d been asleep for well over an hour. She found the remote control under a cushion and clicked the television off, then rolled her head from side to side – she had a kink in her neck from where she’d been lying at an awkward angle and -

Peering into the darkness, Donna felt a sudden chill run up and down her spine. Something didn’t feel right. The only light in the room was coming from the Christmas tree, although she was sure there had been a lamp on earlier. She let her eyes adjust to the gloom and then looked around, her gaze finally falling on the small desk on the other side of the room. In front of the desk was a chair, and in the chair, partly illuminated by the small colored lights on the tree, sat ...

Donna jumped up from the sofa with an astonished cry.

The figure in the chair smiled wryly up at her. “Hello, dear.”

Donna took a step backwards, then another, still unable to make a sound, as she stumbled over to the nearest lamp and switched it on, squinting at the sudden diffusion of light.

“Do you need to sit down?”

Donna could do nothing but stare. She could feel her mouth opening and closing, but couldn’t form anything remotely approaching a coherent sound.

The interloper spoke again. “Oh, dear. I know it’s been a long time, but -”

Donna finally found her voice. “Mrs… Landingham?”

“Well, at least you haven’t forgotten me.”

“Forgotten you? How could I possibly forget – no, wait a minute. This is – this is impossible, I mean, you – you’re - ”

“Dead?”

Donna nodded vigorously.

Mrs Landingham looked at her over the top of her glasses. “Well, yes, I am, but you don’t need to concern yourself with that.”

Donna finally shook herself out of her stunned stupor. “I don’t need to..?” she croaked in disbelief, rubbing her eyes.

“No. There are other things you should be - ”

“But – but you can’t be here!” Donna interrupted wildly, waving a hand around in front of her.

“Well, obviously I am, dear.”

“No – you’re not. You can’t be – I went to your funeral; it was raining and I remember the President asked me - ” Donna checked herself. “No. I must still be asleep. Yes, that’s it, I’m asleep and I’m dreaming.”

Mrs Landingham shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Donna sat down on the sofa. “I’m going to go back to sleep, and when I wake up again, you won’t be here.”

“If you think that’s best.”

“Okay.” Donna lay down again and pulled the afghan up to her chin. “Right.” She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. She was tired and upset. The last few days had been pretty nerve-wracking and she supposed that exhaustion could play strange tricks on the mind. Yes. That was it. She let her breathing even out …

… but she couldn’t go back to sleep. Nonetheless, she lay there for a while, taking slow, even breaths, telling herself that she needed to wake up from the dream now…

When she opened her eyes again, the lamp was on and the television was off. She must have turned it off before she’d fallen asleep after all. Slowly, she sat up, staring straight ahead of her, before standing up and starting tentatively to inspect the rest of her living room.

“Did it work?”

Donna jumped and spun round, her hand pressed to her chest.

“You startled me.”

Mrs Landingham shrugged, nonchalantly. “I’m a ghost – it’s my job to startle people.”

“Your job?” Donna frowned. Then – “Wait – a ghost?”

“That’s right, dear.”

“No.” Donna smiled nervously. “No. There are no such things as – I’m still asleep; I must be, I mean, it’s impossible - ”

Mrs Landingham stood up and walked towards her. Donna took another step or two backwards.

“I think we’ve had this conversation before, don’t you? You know I’m dead and yes, there are such things as ghosts. Obviously.”

“But – but - ” Donna spluttered, helplessly.

“Why am I here?” The older woman smiled kindly, in the way that Donna remembered so well. “I was hoping you were going to ask that. Now, why don’t you sit down and let me explain?”

Donna did as she was told, unable to do anything but stare open-mouthed at – this really was ludicrous - the ghost in her living room.

Mrs Landingham’s ghost sat down at the other end of the sofa. “So, how have you been?”

“What?”

“I asked how you’ve been, Donna.”

“How I’ve ..?” Donna rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry – you turn up in my home, tell me you’re a ghost - and then sit here and ask me how I am?”

“Good manners hurt no-one, I’ve always thought.”

“I - ” Donna sighed. She was confused and tired; she couldn’t decide whether she was asleep and dreaming, or awake and hallucinating - and decided that, for now, the easiest thing to do would be to go with the flow. “I’m okay. Well, apart from, you know, nearly being killed in a car-bombing a few months back.”

And the fact that I’m seeing dead people.

“Yes, I was sorry to hear about that, dear. It must have been awful for you.”

“It was; it was - ” Donna jumped up exasperatedly. “This is ridiculous – I can’t do this. Will somebody, for the love of God please tell me what is going on?!”

The ghost of Mrs Landingham frowned disapprovingly. “Now, there’s no need to shout. I’m here because you need help.”

“I – what?”

“You’re in danger of becoming – well, you’ll come to that later, but let’s just say some of us,” and here, she raised a finger and pointed upward, “thought you needed a little nudge to help you stay on the right path.”

“The right path?”

The spirit sighed. “You’re a bright girl, Donna. You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t. Anyone would think I’d switched parties and become a Republican!”

Mrs Landingham pursed her lips. “That’s not what this is about.”

“Then what is it about, because I sure as h – heck can’t figure it out!”

“Donna,” said the ghost, patiently, “you’re angry and you’re bitter and that just isn’t you, and if you carry on like this, well… I don’t see a particularly happy future for you.”

“You have a crystal ball, now?” Donna laughed nervously. “I thought we had enough problems with the First Lady and her ouija board.”

“Now, Donna, you know very well that was only a rumor. And no, I don’t have a crystal ball as such, but I what I can tell you is that what you’re trying to do isn’t right.”

Donna bristled, defensively. “What am I trying to do?”

“You’re trying to switch off. You don’t want to feel all the things you feel now – you don’t want the guilt, or the sorrow – or the love - ” Donna looked up, startled, to find Mrs Landingham’s piercing gaze upon her, “so you’re trying to push all that aside by filling yourself with bitterness and anger. And then you’ll stop yourself feeling those things as well, so that eventually you won’t feel anything.”

Donna gaped at her in shock. “No. No, I’m not doing that. I am angry; I’ve got a right to be angry after the way he - ” she tailed off under the weight of that intense stare.

Mrs Landingham looked at her, questioningly. “After the way he… what?”

“I - ” Donna bit her lip and looked down at her hands. “Nothing.”

“Alright, dear.” Mrs Landingham reached forward and patted Donna’s knee. “I’m not here to argue with you. I’m here to tell you - ”

A thought – an admittedly bizarre one - popped abruptly into Donna’s head and try as she might, she was unable to rid herself of it.

“Hang on…” she couldn’t suppress the urge to grin, suddenly. “Are you some sort of harbinger of… I mean, is this the part where you rattle the ‘chains you forged in life’ and tell me I will be haunted by three spirits?”

Mrs Landingham cocked her head to the side and looked disapprovingly over the top of her glasses.

“Now there’s no need to be silly. Do I look like I’m going to rattle chains at you?”

Donna blinked, suddenly subdued. “Well I – actually, no. But I studied nineteenth century English Literature, you know, and that’s what Marley’s ghost says in the book.”

“Which book would that be, dear?”

“You know,” Donna hesitated, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. “A Christmas Carol. I mean, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To make me see the error of my ways.”

Mrs Landingham smiled wryly. “The error of your ways? Donna, I don’t think you’ve done all that much in your life to be ashamed of, have you?” Donna opened her mouth to respond – then felt a sudden flush warm her cheeks and opted to keep silent, dropping her eyes beneath the older woman’s penetrating gaze. “I mean, you’ve spent a great deal of time in your life helping people one way and another, haven’t you? Even that boyfriend you left – " Donna’s head jerked up – “oh yes, I know all about him – you were helping him through medical school, then when you realized he was just using you, you left him to come help get the President elected, and you’ve been helping him ever since. So,” Mrs Landingham shrugged and got to her feet, “I don’t think you really need a lesson in unselfishness, do you?”

Donna felt herself blush again, and looked at the floor, twisting her hands nervously in her lap. “No, I - ”

“Well, unless there’s something…”

“No!” Donna shot back defensively. “There’s nothing.”

The spirit fixed her with an oh-so-familiar no-nonsense stare and as Donna looked up she could feel herself squirm in her seat. “What?”

Mrs Landingham sighed. “Donna,” she said softly. “How long do you think you can stay pissed at him?”

Donna looked up, startled. For one thing, she didn’t remember having heard Mrs Landingham ever swear before, and for another, she really didn’t want to get drawn into another discussion about Josh.

“It’s not like - ” she began, then changed her mind. “No,” she said, as calmly as she could. “I’m finally doing the best I can for me – I don’t need to justify myself or my actions to anyone.”

“No, you don’t. But you’ve spent the last couple of days trying to justify them to yourself, so why not give me a try?”

Donna's indignation increased. “No! It’s not what you -” and despite her earlier insistence, she suddenly found words tumbling from her lips.

“I had to leave. Can’t you see? I had to. Josh didn’t – he wouldn’t… I kept asking him for more responsibility, but he never listened. I don’t think he ever even saw me! And lately – he’s behaved like such a jerk. I asked to talk to him, he kept postponing and I couldn’t – I wasn’t willing to put up with his treating me like that any more, like I didn’t matter, so I - ” Donna looked over at Mrs Landingham to see her listening intently, her expression unreadable. “So I left,” she finished lamely, the anger that had buoyed her up dissipating suddenly, leaving her feeling deflated and hollow.

“Hm.” The spirit of Mrs Landingham sat down again, and clasped her hands loosely in her lap. “Now, Donna, you have to listen to me carefully. You’ve had a pretty bad time of it the last few months, I know. But this really isn’t the way to go, is it?”

Donna rubbed her hand over her eyes and said nothing.

“But what’s done is done, I guess,” the spirit said, placing her hands on her knees. After a moment’s silence, she asked innocuously, “How long did you work for Josh?”

“You know how long – nearly eight years.”

Mrs Landingham fixed Donna with a no-nonsense stare. “So I imagine you gave him a full month’s notice?”

“I –“ Donna stammered.

“Two weeks, then?”

“I tried to, but I - ”

“Oh yes, right - he was a jerk so he didn’t deserve that.”

Donna’s anger flared again, white hot this time as she leapt to her feet.

“How dare you! How dare you tell me that – that I – when he -” she couldn’t finish the sentence. Suddenly, she was assailed by a pang of regret, and the tears she’d managed to keep at bay all day by keeping busy, or thinking about job hunting, or reminding herself about just how unfairly Josh had treated her were suddenly on the verge of falling, her throat constricting as she fought not to shed them.

Damn him. This was his fault, too. She’d been so sure that she was doing the right thing – sure that she needed to break away and make her own way … her anger evaporated, she sank down onto the sofa and buried her face in her hands.

She felt a movement beside her and looked up.

“God,” she sniffed, “Mrs Landingham, I’m so sorry – I was – that was rude of me, I -”

The spirit waved a hand. “Oh, that’s alright, dear. I understand. You’re upset and frustrated and you needed to get it off your chest. And God knows, your Joshua isn’t always the easiest of men to be around, is he?”

Donna smiled wanly. “No, he’s not.”

And he’s not ‘my’ Joshua either. Which is part of the problem.

She plucked a tissue from the box on the coffee table and wiped at her eyes.

“But I really,” she swallowed – this was hard to say, even if she was saying it to a – a figment of her imagination. “I thought he … thought more of me, that’s all. I can do more than this – I can be more than this; no disrespect intended – but I know I can do more. And I hoped… I hoped that maybe Josh would see that and be the one to help me. But he didn’t. He’s too used to having me running around after him – he just can’t see me doing anything else. And I’m good at my job – he’ll be hard pressed to find another assistant who can…” she cleared her throat. “Anyway, he was holding me back out of pure self-interest and I’m just glad I realized before it was too late.”

“Before it was too late?”

“Yes. Before it was too late for me to move on. I’m sorry, Mrs Landingham, but I’m not like you – or Margaret, or Carol… I’ve wasted enough time with – I mean, now I’ll have a chance to prove myself, to show what I can really do.”

“That’s nice, dear. But I don’t think you quite understand. You’re right, it’s not too late - but if you don’t listen to me carefully, it may well be.”

Donna raised her eyebrows in alarm - and Mrs Landingham put out a hand.

“Don’t worry – I told you I wasn’t going to rattle any chains, and I’m not.”

“But – the other spirits?”

“Are on their way, yes.”

“I really can’t skip that part?”

“Sorry, dear. But there are some things you need to see – some things from your past about which I think you need to be reminded, and some things that may well come to be part of your future if you don’t learn the lessons the spirits are coming here to teach you.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any point in my asking if I can see them all together and get it all over at once?”

“Not really, no.”

Donna heaved a sigh. “Okay.”

“The first is due at one, so I’d get a little more sleep if I were you.” Mrs Landingham stood up and smoothed her skirt. “Well, dear, it’s been lovely to see you.”

Donna blinked. It was as though the woman had been visiting from the next apartment not the next - life. She squinted up, awkwardly. “Uh – I… you too.”

The spirit smiled and turned to leave. As she reached the door, she stopped and turned to face Donna once again. “Just remember what I said. After all, it’s the season of goodwill to all men. And that includes Josh Lyman.”

Donna opened her mouth – watching in silence as her ghostly visitor walked quietly through the closed door.

It might have been clichéd, but Donna had to admit - it was one hell of an exit.

She eventually dragged her gaze away from the door and flopped back onto the cushions of the sofa. Now that her visitor had left, it would be easier to think about this rationally. Donna yawned and tucked her legs up underneath her, her gaze returning to the lights twinkling on her Christmas tree. It occurred to her suddenly that it was looking a little forlorn this year. Usually, she decorated a little more enthusiastically – with garlands and tinsel and ornaments, but this year, she hadn’t really felt particularly festive and had just draped a small string of lights over the branches. She yawned again and blinked a couple of times, trying to force open her drooping eyelids, to stop the colors of the lights blurring and merging into one another… she needed to think… she needed to…

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Part Two

Keeping the Spirit Part Two (PG)

Mon, 15 Dec 2008 22:44:02 GMT

Notes, disclaimers etc. in Part One

Originally posted between 17 and 21 December 2007.

Last time…

“There are some things you need to see – some things from your past about which I think you need to be reminded, and some things that may well come to be part of your future if you don’t learn the lessons the spirits are coming here to teach you.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any point in my asking if I can see them all together and get it all over at once?”

“Not really, no.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Keeping the Spirit - Part Two

When Donna awoke again, it was with a start. She swung her legs off the sofa and sat up, rubbing her hand across her face as she recalled the strange dream she’d had. It been so vivid, so real – Donna could have sworn she’d even caught the odd whiff of the light perfume Mrs Landingham used to wear, but common sense told her that was her olfactory memory playing tricks on her. It was strange though; it had been years, really, since she’d had more than a passing thought about Mrs Landingham, so to have had a dream about her as a ghost, of all things was peculiar to say the least. But then, dreams often were peculiar, so…

She stretched and glanced at the clock - it was a little before one am. She hadn’t intended to fall asleep on the sofa, and despite having slept for a couple of hours she still felt rather tired. Donna yawned as she stood up, dismissing the slight feeling of trepidation that ran through her as she noticed the hands on the mantelpiece clock clicking into place on the hour. Walking over to the Christmas tree, she was about to switch off the lights when a small noise coming from the opposite direction made her straighten up abruptly. She listened intently for a moment, holding her breath – and yes, there it was again – sounding very much as though it was coming from the kitchen. She stood, frozen to the spot for a moment or two, her tiredness suddenly evaporating as she looked around the dimly lit room, trying to see into all the darkened corners. Then she noticed the strip of light showing under the kitchen door - yet she was sure she’d switched it off earlier. Swallowing hard, she took a couple of steps forward and – there were more sounds now – a thump, then a ‘clink’, then a muffled thud … still moving slowly, she reached the door and pushed it open, cautiously.

What the ..?

There was indeed someone in her kitchen; and she had heard the sound of cupboards being opened and the ‘clink’ of a mug being set down on the kitchen counter. But how the hell had he gotten in here?

“Josh,” she began, her brows knitting in confusion, “what are you - ?”

But that was as far as she got, because she suddenly realized that the man standing in front of her wasn’t Josh at all. Although… height, build, even his stance – they were so similar that for a moment, she forgot to be worried by the fact that there was a stranger in her home.

Then he turned and spoke. “Hello, Donna.”

Donna’s hand flew to her mouth and she stumbled backwards, bumping into the wall.

She couldn’t seem to form words. When he’d spoken her name so softly, her heart had skipped a beat; and then when he’d smiled at her, her chest tightened and she felt an ache inside so strongly that it almost took her breath away.

The man turned round to switch on the coffee machine and then back to face her. “Are you okay?” he asked, an expression of concern on his face.

“I - ” Donna straightened herself up and moved into the room, sinking down into one of the small chairs at her kitchen table. “I’m -” she swallowed in an attempt to regain her articulacy. Her mind was reeling – she could feel thoughts flowing back and forth, but couldn’t seem to hold on to any of them; it was as though they were grains of sand draining through a sieve. Then suddenly, something clicked into place and she remembered…

“The first is due at one…”

The dream…

But surely… Donna’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. This wasn’t possible. It shouldn’t be possible, but – she shook her head in confusion. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t do anything except stare at this man who was so like Josh and yet so unlike him at the same time. Now she had time to look at him properly, Donna could see that he was slightly taller than Josh, built a little heavier; his hair was darker, flecked with grey and he was clearly somewhat older.

She continued to stare at him incredulously, telling herself that the conclusion she had drawn was utterly implausible – while at the same time knowing that it was the right one.

“You’re…” her voice was little more than a whisper. “You’re - Josh’s father.”

The man smiled ruefully and nodded. “Although I guess technically speaking, I was his father, but yes. Noah Lyman,” he held out a hand, “pleased to meet you at last.”

Still stunned, Donna took his hand automatically. “So, you’re… ‘the spirit whose coming was foretold to me?’”

He laughed. “Josh always said you had an amazingly retentive memory. Now I see what he meant.”

Donna raised an eyebrow, temporarily distracted from the fact that she was still seeing dead people. “He normally calls it a capacity for retaining inane trivia.” She frowned then, as she fully grasped what Noah had just told her. “Wait. Josh said that?”

“He did. Quite often, actually.”

Donna blinked. Josh had talked to his father about her all those years ago?

“Actually,” Noah continued, “I remember the first time he mentioned you. It must have been the day he hired you; he was talking about how, um - difficult - the Governor was being, and about the trip to Carolina to set up Illinois - and then suddenly it was all about this girl who’d turned up and had the guts to appoint herself his assistant.”

Donna smiled at the recollection. “That’s true. I walked in off the street, found a messy office where the phone didn’t stop ringing and - ” suddenly, she found herself once again fighting back tears – what the hell was wrong with her? - and she couldn’t go on.

She thrust those memories aside and took a deep breath. Glancing at the man – or the spirit – standing in her kitchen, she decided that the incongruity of this situation really did call for further investigation.

“I’m sorry,” she said, frowning. “I don’t mean to be rude, but - what are you doing in my kitchen?”

Noah raised his eyebrows. “I’m making coffee.” He flashed a brief grin, and Donna felt her chest tighten at the familiarity of his smile. It wasn’t as brilliant as Josh’s and there were no dimples, but his eyes… his eyes held the same warmth, the same humor, and she found herself entranced by them, just as she was – had been, she told herself firmly – by his son’s.

Collecting herself, she realized that Noah was still speaking.

“Josh told me he always had to make his own,” his eyes were twinkling wickedly, and Donna couldn’t help responding with a grin of her own. “So I thought I’d better do the same. I wouldn’t want to break with tradition, after all.” Noah picked up the coffee pot, reached for the mug he’d set on the counter earlier and began to pour.

Donna told herself this was ridiculous - impossible. She was standing in her kitchen talking to Josh’s dead father, who was making her a cup of coffee – and who had been sent here by a dead friend. This was without a doubt the weirdest thing ever to have happened to her – and if the rest of the night went the way she suspected it was going to go, the weirdness was only just beginning.

Noah added cream and sugar to the coffee and pushed the mug towards her along the counter. Donna stood and picked it up distractedly, cradling it in her hands.

Neither of them spoke for a while until Donna finally said, “So. You’re the Spirit of Christmas Past.”

Noah leaned back against the counter, arms folded across his chest, ankles crossed.
“I guess I am.”

Donna’s brow furrowed in confusion once more. “Hang on though – aren’t you supposed to be the ghost of my Christmases Past?”

“Yes.”

“But how can you know - I mean we hardly knew each other. We only spoke on the phone those few times.”

The spirit sighed. “That’s true. But my son talked about you a great deal, you know, so I think that should count for something.”

“He did?” She took a sip from the mug – and then looked up in surprise. “How do you know how I take my coffee?”

Noah shrugged, off-handedly. “Josh always took it like that. I just figured…”

Donna dropped her gaze immediately, and focused her attention entirely on her cup of coffee in an effort to squash the almost eight-year-old memory that had just leapt into her mind.

“You brought me coffee?”

“I did – Starbucks’ finest.”

“But you don’t know how I like it.”

“I got it how I like it. I figured if I’m going to have to actually get the coffee, you can drink it however it comes.”

She shook her head. There was nothing to be gained by thinking back – despite what the spirit of Mrs Landingham had said. Donna wanted – needed – to be looking forward, to the life she was going to make for herself, not back to the one she was trying so hard to leave behind.

“So…” she sighed heavily. “What’s next?”

“Well, first,” Noah said, “you finish your coffee. Then, we’re going on a trip down memory lane.”

“I knew you were going to say that.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “My wife and son both used to tell me I was alarmingly predictable at times.”

Donna took a few more sips, then set the mug down on the counter by the sink.

“’kay,” Noah said. “You ready for this?”

“Somehow, I doubt it.”

He sniffed. “I’m told nobody ever is.” They walked into the living room. “Wait – aren’t you going to tell me you need a coat or you’ll freeze to death?”

Donna rolled her eyes as she slipped on some sneakers. “I’ve read the book; I know I don’t need one.”

Noah grinned at her. “Right.” He reached for her hand. “Come on then.”

“Um -” Donna looked around, suddenly uncertain. “Just how are we going to get out?”

“What happens in the book?”

Donna arched a haughty eyebrow, her head cocked slightly to one side. “Now I know you’re messing with me. There’s no way you haven’t read it.”

“Busted.” He grinned at her again and Donna was struck once more by the familiar way his eyes sparkled when he smiled. “But you’re right, we can’t just walk out into the night from here; and -” he looked around the room, “I think if we tried to get out of the windows we’d probably get arrested. Fire escape?”

Donna inclined her head towards her front door. “This way.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

She opened her eyes to find herself standing in a warm, brightly lit kitchen. There were some delicious smells wafting around, the counter was littered with bowls and dishes and there seemed to be enough vegetables piled on the chopping boards to feed several armies of rabbits.

Donna looked at Noah. “I hate to break it to you,” she deadpanned, “but my father didn’t hate me and I didn’t go to boarding school so I wasn’t left there alone for the holidays.”

He shook his head exasperatedly. “You really do like that book, don’t you?”

“It’s always been one of my favorites.”

“I know.”

“I used to read it every Christmas when I was younger.”

“I know that, too.”

Donna frowned at him. “You appear to know a lot of things – how I take my coffee, my reading habits …”

“All part of the service.” Noah smirked back at her – looking so incredibly like his son that Donna lost her train of thought for a second.

She shook her head as if to clear it. “Wait, so this is happening to me because I like A Christmas Carol?”

“No - ”

“So if I’d been a big fan of Pride and Prejudice, I could be standing here with Mr Darcy right now?”

“Again - ”

“Although I always preferred Emma; there was something about the way Mr Knightley always looked out for Emma even when he thought she was in love with someone else - ”

“Donna?”

“Hm?”

“You’re wandering.”

“Sorry.”

Noah cocked his head to the side. “So… do you know where you are?”

Donna looked around the kitchen again, listening to the chatter and laughter coming from the next room – and smiled fondly. “Of course I do. This is the house where I grew up. We lived here until I was fourteen …”

Noah leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “You were happy, growing up?”

Donna glanced at him as she began to make her way to the door. “Yes. Well, mostly, I guess. I mean, just the usual stuff, you know, worrying about not being pretty enough, or smart enough… ”

“Well,” Noah smiled. “I think it’s safe to say those aren’t things you needed to have worried about.”

Donna blushed. “I guess we were fairly ordinary, really…”

“It must have been nice.”

Donna saw a shadow flit across Noah’s face. “It was.” They both fell silent, as she recalled that a there was a part of Josh’s childhood that must have been anything but ordinary.

“I - ” she began, but Noah waved a hand.

“It was a long time ago, Donna,” he said softly. “We survived.”

Donna was trying desperately to think of something – anything – to say in response, when a shriek of delight burst from the other room and Noah nodded his head towards the open door. “Go on. Take a look.”

Although she knew no-one in the room could see her, Donna advanced tentatively, almost on tip-toe, a wave of nostalgia flowing over her as she looked at the scene in front of her. It was a tradition in the Moss household for the family to gather together in the morning to open presents – the children would usually still be in their pajamas, her mother would be bustling around, in and out of the kitchen, while her father looked on indulgently, collecting the reams of paper as they were torn off the gifts.

Donna looked around; there was her mother, her brother and her aunt and uncle and – she sucked in a breath – her grandma Sophia. Sophia had been the very epitome of an Italian grandmother; larger than life, quick tempered, fiercely protective of her family and a fabulous cook, she’d delighted in her grandchildren - and had of course spoiled her eldest granddaughter. She had passed away shortly after Donna’s eleventh birthday – and Donna realized with a start that she was looking back at the last Christmas they had spent together. She found herself choked with tears as she remembered how keenly her younger self had felt her loss, how bereft she had been at the realization that she would never see her grandmother again.

There was a noise outside, and Donna took a hasty step forward, her eyes now fixed on her ten-year-old self and her younger sister huddled together in front of the Christmas tree, surrounded by crumpled heaps of brightly colored paper and ribbon. With a squeal of glee, the young Donna jumped up from the floor and rushed over to her father, who had just entered the room, still wearing his coat and gloves, bearing a rather bulky and awkwardly wrapped gift, which was festooned with ribbons and bows.

Donna folded her arms and hugged herself tightly, not knowing whether to laugh or cry as she remembered how excited she’d been, having badly wanted a new bicycle that Christmas because she’d suddenly sprouted up a couple of inches and had outgrown her old one.

She watched the young girl she had been throw herself into her father’s arms, saw the look on his face – full of love – as he put an arm around her while struggling to keep the present upright with the other, and felt a warmth kindling at the pit of her stomach that she was shocked to realize she hadn’t experienced for some time.

“You have a wonderful family, Donna,” she half-turned at the sound of Noah’s voice, unable to take her eyes off the scene in front of her. “I hope you realize how lucky you are.”

She cleared her throat and replied softly, “I do. I really do.”

Noah turned her gently to face him. “Remember that.”

Donna blushed and looked away, not wanting to betray her embarrassment as she recalled the excuses she’d made – to her mother and to herself – for not wanting to spend a lot of time with her family over the Holidays.

Finally collecting herself, she told herself it was too late to worry about that now. All the reasons she’d given herself for wanting to keep her visit short were still valid ones, and there would be plenty of opportunities in the future for longer stays; other Christmases, other family gatherings…

“Okay,” Noah reached for her hand again. “Time to go.”

Donna was still watching her younger self pulling ribbons and paper off her new bike, aided now by her sister, and found it hard to tear her gaze away.

“Hm?”

Noah inclined his head toward the kitchen and started to lead her away. “Come on.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Walking back through the living room door, Donna was surprised to find herself not, as she’d expected, in the warmth of her mother’s kitchen, but instead, surrounded by the familiar hustle and bustle of the Operations bullpen.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She had no desire to be here; the place was filled with too many memories - the most recent of them not particularly pleasant – that she was determined to lock away as fast as she possibly could.

“Why have you brought me here?” she asked a little breathlessly, trying to keep the hostility she was beginning to feel out of her voice. She was standing just a few feet from Josh’s office, and the last thing she needed now was to have to face him and endure his demands for an explanation of her behavior. A shouting match in the middle of the West Wing would be just the thing to put her in a festive frame of mind.

“Donna,” Noah’s voice, coming from over her shoulder, caused her to start. In her state of imminent panic, she’d forgotten about him – and added to that, the way he’d said her name, so softly, so like - had made her treacherous heart leap for just a second, and she despised herself for it.

“What?” she snarled.

Noah just raised his eyebrows in surprise. “He’s not here. And neither are you. This is all in your past – remember?”

Momentarily confused, Donna frowned at him while she tried to figure out what on earth that meant when the sound of her own voice coming from somewhere behind her made her turn around slowly.

“Heimlich Beckengrüber on The Art and Artistry of Alpine Skiing?”

Donna advanced slowly, watching her younger self running her index finger up and down the spine of the book, puzzled, as she tried to work out why on earth Josh had chosen to give her such an odd gift.

“It's got a molted calf cover and original drab boards.”

“I don't know what to say.”

And she hadn’t. She remembered feeling a little put out – of course she hadn’t expected Josh to take any of her teasing about skis and boots seriously, but still… a book?

She watched as Josh shifted nervously on his feet. “I wrote a note inside ...” And then turned to herself again as she read what he’d written – remembering how her confusion had evaporated, tears beginning to well up in her eyes at his words and the sentiment behind them.

The older Donna stood stock still, as though she was rooted to the spot. This wasn’t fair. If the spirit’s purpose here was to make her forget Josh’s recent behavior towards her by forcing her to remember those times he’d been kinder, more considerate… well, it wasn’t going to work. She wouldn’t let it.

She couldn’t afford to let it.

But she had to admit that if that was indeed Noah’s intention, he’d chosen well. Josh had an uncanny knack for being able to say or do the most incredibly sweet thing at just the right time – and this had been one of those times. She might not have looked at the book for quite a while – but she could still remember every damn word in the inscription.

She bit her lip and turned towards Noah, making no attempt to hide her irritation. “You haven’t answered my question. What’s the point of showing me this?”

Noah shrugged. “That’s for you to figure out, I think. Let’s just say that maybe there’s something here that you seem to have forgotten.”

“Well that’s cleared it up for me, thanks,” she said bitterly, turning back just in time to see herself put her arms around Josh’s neck at the same time as his came around her waist. Try as she might, she couldn’t block the memory of how that hug had felt – his warmth and strength enveloping her as she’d allowed herself for just a second or two to enjoy the feeling of simply being held, the flutter at the pit of her stomach as she’d felt him drop his head and bury his face in the crook of her neck.

“Skis would have killed you?”

“Yeah.”

Donna watched her younger self clutching the antique book to her chest as Josh turned and walked away. God, how stupid and naïve she’d been then; just look at her – me, she corrected, that look of blatant adoration on her face making her want to grab the younger version of herself and shake some sense into her, to tell her to stop acting like a lovesick schoolgirl, to show her how pathetic she was for treasuring every crumb Josh had ever thrown her.

So, so stupid.

“Is loving someone stupid?” Noah’s voice, quiet, came from just behind her.

She swallowed hard, fighting to keep an even tone. “It is when there’s no chance they’ll ever love you back.”

Donna observed her younger self re-reading the inscription in the book, finding it harder and harder to remain unaffected by what she was seeing and remembering. It seemed such a long time ago, now - she’d been so young, so foolish, so willing to give without receiving anything in return.

Noah’s voice cut through her reverie. “Are you so sure about that?”

“I’m sorry – what?”

“You said it wasn’t a good thing to be in love when it was unrequited. Are you so sure he didn’t …” the spirit shrugged. “You know.”

Donna couldn’t help a bitter laugh. “Okay, I know he’s your son and all, but - ”

Noah interrupted her. “Look,” and pointed in the direction of Josh’s office. Donna turned around – just in time to see Josh reappear at his doorway and look at the younger Donna as she read. Her mouth gaped open as she watched him watching her, her fingers flying to her lips as she took in the look of tender affection on his face.

After a few seconds, he went back into his office, but Donna found herself unable to tear her eyes away from the spot where he’d been standing. For the first time since Gaza – no, before that – she allowed herself to remember the way Josh had made her feel on the rare occasions she’d seen him looking at her like that… picking up files from the floor of his office… standing in the snow with his coat wrapped around her shoulders… his face coming into focus as she regained consciousness in her hospital bed ...

Donna blinked hastily before turning around in time to see her younger self put the book carefully in a drawer and go back to work. She was struck suddenly by just how thoughtful a gift it had actually been, and how typical it was of Josh to have done something so unbelievably - perfect. And now, she couldn’t help but remember how what he’d written had made her feel; right then, for the rest of the day, the week… the Holidays.

Donna realized that Noah had moved to stand beside her. “I think you’ve seen all you need to see here.”

She blinked again and looked up at him, still preoccupied with thoughts and feelings she hadn’t allowed herself in – well, quite some time.

Noah nudged her arm, gently. “I think we should move on to another Christmas, don’t you?”

Donna nodded distractedly, but as they turned to walk away, memories of another, far less enjoyable Christmas began to crowd into her mind, memories that still had the power to disturb her.

She stopped walking. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

Donna took a deep breath. “Where are we – I mean, when are we..? ”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “Is something wrong?”

“I just – don’t think I can …”

Noah shot her a piercing look, but he said nothing, and it struck Donna suddenly that she probably wasn’t the only one who wouldn’t want a reminder of what had happened – what could have happened – the following Christmas. “God, I’m sorry, Noah.” She looked down at her hands. “I didn’t think – I -”

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “There’s more to see here.” Donna didn’t hear his whispered qualifier - “first” – as, out of the corner of her eye, she watched him wave a hand; and when she looked up again, the lights in the bullpen were dimmed, there was hardly anyone around and she realized she was no longer looking at the doorway to Josh’s office. Surprised – and relieved - at her reprieve, she found herself and Noah standing on the other side of her cubicle, watching Josh finish a call and hang up the phone. Opposite him, and wearing a festive-looking red and white sweater, Donna was reading from a note pad while he looked through some papers on the desk.

“What did you mean when you said – ‘it's not what it looks like’?”

The older Donna looked at her younger self in shock. She remembered having this conversation of course, but – had she really been that obvious? She winced at the note of hope she could hear in her voice as she asked Josh again what he had meant.

“What?” Noah was studying her intently from his position leaning against a desk on the other side of the aisle.

Donna shot him a startled look. “Oh… nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing.”

Donna gestured towards Josh as he continued to insist that he hadn’t meant anything in particular, that it had just been something he’d said. “Just look at him, ducking the question. For once, I tried to… and he’s back-pedaling like it’s an Olympic sport. She turned to face the spirit again. “He’s never once - ”

Noah scrubbed a hand over his face. “What were you trying to do, Donna?” he demanded exasperatedly. “And what the hell did you want him to say? As far as he knew, he’d just caused you to break your plans for a romantic Christmas with your boyfriend at an exclusive hotel. He didn’t know that you’d have stayed with him if he’d asked.”

“What?” Donna had been watching Josh walk away and down the corridor
- but at that, she jerked her head around to face Noah, caught off guard by the sudden ferocity in his tone. “I was – I mean - he needed my help,” she spluttered. “The President had just asked him to practically re-write the Federal Budget over Christmas, so -”

Noah shook his head. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Then what - ?”

“If he’d asked you to stay with him, Donna. Not for work, but for him.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she protested, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue. “Of course I wouldn’t have stayed for - I mean, I was with Jack. He was smart and funny and considerate, and I - ”

Noah pushed away from the desk he’d been leaning against and walked over to her. “You were miserable.”

“I wasn’t!” Donna shot back – too quickly she realized, too late. “I just…”

“Oh, come on!”

Noah was looking at her intently, the unyielding look in his eyes demanding the truth - and she could feel the flush as it crept across her cheeks. “I wasn’t miserable,” she insisted, dropping her gaze.

“Okay, so maybe miserable was overstating it a little.” Noah sighed and scratched the back of his head. “But admit it – there were moments that weekend when you wished you’d stayed.”

Donna laughed, nervously. “What, a night of getting drunk and taking care of Josh over a weekend of - ”

“For the love of - ” Noah threw up his hands. “Would you just stop?”

Donna raised a weak grin. “Well, now I know where Josh gets his temper from.”

Noah actually rolled his eyes. “Stop it. Stop lying to yourself and admit it. Okay, so you’re pissed at him now, but back then, if he’d actually had the balls to ask you to stay with him, you would have stayed.”

“But - ”

Noah waved a hand, then took her firmly by the shoulders and turned her around. Donna could hear the sound of singing floating through the doors to the foyer as Josh walked through the otherwise deserted bullpen, making notes on a document he was carrying.

“Josh.” She swung her gaze towards the door at the sound of Leo’s voice. “Was I insensitive before about telling you Donna was gone?”

“No.” Josh half-smiled nervously – and Donna recognized it as the smile he usually wore when he was covering something. “What do you mean?”

“I don't know. I thought...”

“It's fine. Of course it's fine. It's great. I was feeling guilty, but now, this... is good. This, this... is better than good. It's the way it should be.”

“Oh, get it together, would you please?”

“I'm trying.”

Wide-eyed with surprise, Donna was aware that Josh and Leo were still speaking, but she wasn’t able to take in any of their conversation. With an effort, she tore her gaze away from Josh - to find Noah watching her thoughtfully.

“You’re a bright girl, Donna,” he said softly, “I just don’t get why you can’t see it. Josh is completely crazy about you.”

“It’s…” she stammered. “He can’t be.”

“Why not?”

“He never said - ” she insisted feebly, “he’s never done anything to -”

“Never?”

“No.”

“So getting on a plane with nothing more than a passport and the clothes on his back is nothing?”

“No! Of course it’s not nothing, but - ”

“Sitting by your bedside, holding your hand for hours – even crying – something he hasn’t done since he was eight years old - ”

“He… Josh cried?” Donna’s eyes widened further, her voice a mere whisper.

“He did.”

“For me?”

“Yes.”

“I – I don’t know what to say. I didn’t know.”

“No, you were unconscious.” Noah paused, as though he was weighing something up in his mind. “Did you know there was a chance you might not have survived? And if you had, that you could have been brain-damaged?”

“Yes. I - ”

“He was terrified, Donna,” Noah said, softly.

“Well,” she swallowed, trying to maintain her composure. “I’d imagine it’s not the sort of thing you’d like to hear about a friend - ”

“No, this isn’t hyperbole,” Noah insisted gently. “He was out of his mind with worry.”

Donna was stunned into silence, recalling how she had wanted so desperately to believe that there had been more to Josh’s flying to Germany than his concern for an injured friend. But when she’d returned home and everything had been much the same as before, she felt as though she’d woken up and was at last able to see things as they really were. She had determined then that it was time to abandon the hopes that, despite herself, she’d cherished for quite some time and to stop putting her life on hold for a man who didn’t want her in the same way as she wanted him.

But… Josh had cried for her? That was – astonishing. And to think he hadn’t done that since - until she’d been hurt? Donna didn’t cry often – not really, although she had to admit she had been more prone to tears since the accident - but there had certainly been times in her adult life when she’d cried or had been close to tears…

“It’s critical. The bullet collapsed his lung and damaged a major artery.”

Donna inhaled sharply, her hand flying to her mouth as she remembered how she’d felt that night – as though her world might just be coming to an end.

“You okay?” Noah asked solicitously, his hand at her elbow. Donna licked her lips and nodded slowly, unable at that moment to trust her voice. “Come on.” Noah inclined his head to the side. “There’s one more thing you need to see, and there’s not much time left.”

Donna took the hand he held out and they walked out of the bullpen and through the lobby, although she was able to take very little notice of her surroundings. Her mind was too full of everything she’d just seen and heard… Josh’s expression as he’d watched her from his doorway, his nervous smile at Leo’s questions – and Noah’s insistence that Josh could well have been – could well be in love with her - her head was spinning. It was all too much to process – too much and, clearly, too unlikely. Surely, if Josh had wanted her, he would have done or said something …

Lost in thought, her head bowed, Donna didn’t immediately realize where she and Noah were headed. His hand grasped hers firmly, and she kept pace with him until something made her look up and around her – and she came to a sudden stop. “No.” She shook her head, determinedly. “I can’t. Not again, I just… ” her voice tailed off as Noah turned slowly to face her.

“You can, and you will, Donna,” he said, firmly, but not unkindly. “You need to remember - ”

“Please,” Donna tried again as they reached the door and came to a stop. “I understand what you’ve been telling me, now – I have to remember the good as well as the bad, and -”

Noah shook his head. “I’m sorry, Donna, but it’s not just about that.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Then what is it about?”

“Letting yourself feel.”

She blinked. “What?”

“All your life, you’ve been able to feel as much for others as for yourself – sometimes more. You’ve made people feel better for having known you… I know for a fact there have been days when the only thing that’s gotten Josh out of bed in the morning was the thought of seeing you - ” Donna started to stammer out a protest, but Noah pressed on regardless. “But now, you’re losing that, Donna. You might think it’s weakness, being able to feel so much, but it’s not. It’s one of the things that makes you, well, you and if you don’t stop hiding from it, if you don’t stop trying to eradicate it, then you just won’t be you any more.”

Donna just stared at him blankly. She wasn’t doing that. She was just trying to protect herself, to do what she had to do in order to be able to move on without… without Josh.

“Okay – I understand,” she said quickly, even as she knew she really didn’t. “I’ll try – I’ll think about it and try to - ”

“It’s too late for that, Donna.”

“Too late for what?”

“Too late for you to be able to fix this on your own. Why do you think I’m here?”

“Because someone up there likes messing with my head?”

Noah swept aside her attempt at misdirection. “What exactly are you afraid of? You’ve lived through this. Josh made it; he’s okay, thanks largely to you, so why don’t you want to go in?”

Donna could feel panic welling up within her. What was Noah insisting she see? Her and Josh at the hospital that night? Back at his apartment after she’d seen him home? His – God forbid – his eight-hour marathon session with Stanley Keyworth? Josh had told her little about that beyond the diagnosis, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know more. It was too private.

Whatever it was, a reminder of that Christmas was the last thing she needed or wanted; if there was one memory which was guaranteed to sweep aside the detached façade she’d been carefully constructing over the past few months – it was this one.

“Because - ” she spluttered. “Because it’s in the past!”

“Well, yes, but that’s not the real reason, is it?”

“Because it - ” Donna foundered, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find something to say that would satisfy the spirit of Josh’s father.

“Yes?”

And then she knew there was nothing she could say that would get her out of this. Somehow, the ghost of Noah Lyman knew her as well as his son did – better if some of the things he’d been saying were any indication. So Donna gave in. She couldn’t deny this forever - and it was a pretty good bet that Noah already knew the answer anyway.

She released the breath she’d been holding. “Because it still hurts.”

Noah nodded. “There’s your answer.”

Donna looked up at him to find that his eyes, so like his son’s, were fixed on her unwaveringly - and she found herself both unnerved and strangely comforted.

“Okay?”

She puffed out a breath. “I don’t suppose it’d make any difference if I said ‘no’, would it?”

He pursed his lips. “Nah.”

Clutching Noah’s hand tightly, Donna squeezed her eyes shut and moved forward with him, feeling a strange, tingling sensation in her arms and legs - and a lurch at the pit of her stomach at the realization that they must have passed through the wooden door.

Donna stood still, forcing herself to breathe slowly – in and out… in and out… waiting until she had recovered herself sufficiently to open her eyes.

When she did, the scenario that greeted her was, to her surprise, not one of those she’d considered earlier.

“So, Donna.” Stanley Keyworth was saying as he opened a folder on the table in front of him. “How long have you been Josh’s assistant?”

A younger version of herself, sitting across the table from him answered, “About three years. Since the campaign.”

“And you’re friends.”

“Yes.”

“Good friends?”

“Yes.”

““Mr McGarry tells me that you’ve raised some concerns with him about Josh’s recent behavior.”

Donna watched herself twist her hands in her lap before she answered. “Yes.”

“Could you tell me about them?”

“I -” the Donna seated at the table paused and licked her lips before she replied. “I’m sorry, Doctor,” she smiled nervously. “It’s just… I don’t know you, and Josh – he places a great deal of trust in me and -”

“Donna. First of all, it’s Stanley. And second of all, nothing you say to me will leave this room. Leo McGarry called me here because he’s concerned about Josh and I’m here to help.” He shrugged and sat back. “That’s it.”

The older Donna remembered how her feelings had warred within her. On the one hand, she had wanted desperately to help Josh – but on the other, her instinct was to protect him and she had been wary of saying something that could compromise his position. In the end though, her desire to help him had won out.

The younger Donna took a deep breath. “Josh is… he’s not himself. He covers it well, and I don’t think most people have noticed, but he’s - different. I don’t think he’s sleeping well, if at all; he’s on edge all the time.” She smiled, briefly. “I mean, Josh is pretty highly strung most of the time, but this is more than that.”

“In what way?”

“It’s hard to … Josh works harder than anyone I know, except maybe Leo – Mr McGarry - and the President. He’s volatile, he’s incredibly smart, he’s funny. But lately, it’s as though… I don’t know – he’s still all those things, but they’re “off” somehow. I can’t really explain it… you see, humor’s like - a defense mechanism for him. But it’s as though his timing’s off.”

Stanley nodded and jotted a note on the pad in front of him.

“And now he’s just … quiet.”

“Quiet?”

“Believe me, there are times when all of us wish Josh would shut up more, but this… this is – it’s not him. He … doesn’t do quiet.”

There was a long pause.

“And a few weeks ago, he was …”

“Yes?”

Donna smiled nervously and shook her head. “No. It’s nothing.”

“Donna?”

“Really, it’s not worth - ”

Stanley leaned forward again. “Don’t you think you should let me be the judge of that?” he said softly. “If I’m going to be able to help Josh, I need as much information as possible - even if you think it’s not important. So. Tell me what happened.”

Donna had been picking anxiously at her skirt. “Josh is ,” she said at last, looking up, “I said he’s volatile. He yells and hollers, but he’s one of those people who’s quick to blow up and quick to calm down. Despite what he says, he doesn’t hold grudges - well, not for himself anyway – and he’s never … mean.”

She picked up and drank from the glass of water in front of her.

“But a few weeks ago… God, this is so silly… I had a date after work, but Josh had a meeting and wanted me to come back. And he was… he said - ” she stopped suddenly and waved a hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter what he said, the point is it was nasty and – he’s not like that.” She glanced up at Stanley before dropping her gaze back to her hands, tightly clasped in her lap. “Not to me,” she added softly.

Donna was torn in two. Even as she was telling herself how naïve and stupid she’d been back then, she knew that what she’d said to Stanley all those years ago had been the truth. That while Josh could be remarkably tactless at times - he had never been intentionally cruel to her.

In fact, he’d treated her with kindness and respect. Sure, he joked and teased, but he’d never talked down to her, never truly patronized her – and she had to admit that he’d never really treated her like just an assistant. Yes, she’d done his filing and his typing - that was her job after all - but for the rest of the time… she had been a colleague – and a friend.

Until -

Donna dropped her head into her hands, vaguely aware that, in the room in front of her, Stanley Keyworth was still conducting his interview.

She heard herself telling him about the F16 and its pilot, how Josh had been asked to find out about him, and how unsettled he’d been at the discovery of their shared birthday.

And then – oh, God. Her throat constricted at the thought of what was coming next – her breathing fast and uneven as she listened to her own voice, sounding now as though it was coming from miles away.

“Robert Cano was a highly trained pilot. I’m sure you know the sorts of psychological tests and evaluations they have to go through. What happened to him - it wasn’t an accident. He didn’t black out or have a heart attack - he was alive when the plane crashed.” The Donna at the table looked Stanley in the eye – and the Donna watching inhaled sharply at the memory of that moment, when she’d finally allowed herself to confront what had been her worst fear.

“He committed suicide.”

Stanley’s expression didn’t change. He continued to look at the woman opposite him impassively as he asked; “And that’s your concern. You think Josh might be suicidal?”

Donna’s hand flew to her mouth as she watched herself start to cry silently. She turned to Noah, who was leaning against the wall, his arms folded – his expression unreadable. “Please,” she choked out. “I’ve seen enough.” His only response was to shake his head and Donna could do nothing but stay where she was, her own eyes now filled with tears as she turned her head back to the scene in front of her. The memories were flooding back unhindered now – and she remembered how she’d tried desperately not to make that connection, telling herself that as long as that thought had remained unvoiced, it couldn’t be true and she could pretend… but hearing it – her deepest fear given voice – then as now; she didn’t think she could stand it.

She was wrenched back to the conversation as the younger woman at the table suddenly found her voice. “No!” she sobbed, slamming her hand down violently. “No! He wouldn’t – he couldn’t - ”

And then the tears were rolling, unchecked, down the younger Donna’s cheeks as the elder remembered how scared she’d been. A few short months before this, Josh had almost died – the result of a stray bullet meant for someone else – and then, the thought that he’d been so broken, so close to the edge as to have contemplated, even for a second, that there might be only one way to make the pain go away… she recalled how finally saying the words had made her feel physically sick.

“Donna?”

Stanley’s voice, soft but firm brought both Donnas back to themselves. The younger version took a tissue from the box his assistant had just handed her.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffed, “it’s just… Josh has gone through a lot, you know? He’s lost so much… and now… ” she gulped, her tears beginning to abate, “it’s almost as though he’s losing himself, and I can’t bear it.”

Donna was stunned at her own words – how could she have forgotten..? What she’d said about Josh… Noah had as good as said the same thing about her. Was this what he’d meant - was she losing herself?

She turned to Noah, fighting hard to force back the encroaching tears.

“Please,” she begged, her voice barely a whisper, “no more. Take me back. Please. Please…”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Part Three

And if you want to read my take on what happened during the rest of Donna's interview with Stanley Keyworth - Bleak Midwinter.

Keeping the Spirit Part Three (PG)

Mon, 15 Dec 2008 22:42:25 GMT

Notes, disclaimers etc. in Part One

Part Two.

Originally posted between 17 and 21 December 2007

Last time…

“I’m sorry,” she sniffed, “it’s just… Josh has gone through a lot, you know? He’s lost so much… and now… “ her voice was a soft murmur, “it’s almost as though he’s losing himself, and I can’t bear it.”

Donna was stunned at her own words – how could she have forgotten..? What she’d said about Josh… Noah had as good as said the same thing about her. Was this what he’d meant - was she losing herself?

She turned to Noah, fighting hard to force back the encroaching tears.

“Please,” she begged, her voice barely a whisper, “no more. Take me back. Please. Please…”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Keeping the Spirit - Part Three

Donna sat bolt upright, her breath catching on a sob as she struggled to wakefulness and tried to work out where she was.

Her ragged breathing began to slow as her eyes adjusted to the gloom and she realized that she was back in her living room, sitting on her sofa. The television was off, and in the soft glow emitting from the lights on the Christmas tree, she could see from the clock on the mantelpiece that it was just past two am.

Just past..?

She rubbed her eyes and swung her legs to the floor. Wasn’t her second – visitor – due? Or maybe the Spirit of Christmas Past had done the trick? Yes, that was it – he’d reminded her that she needed to remember the good times as well as the bad; and really, there had been many more of the former than she’d been allowing herself to remember, hadn’t there?

Yes, so now, if she could just –

She was startled by a noise coming from the direction of the Christmas tree, and whipped around to see a couple of the branches swaying – and a figure sitting in the chair next to it, dressed in red velvet with black boots so shiny that she could see the tree lights reflected in them.

Donna dropped her head into her hands. So this nightmare wasn’t over yet.

The figure spoke. “Normally, I’d be saying ‘Come in and know me better man’ – but seeing that you’re already in - ”

She lifted her head slowly, eyes wide with astonishment, and looked at her guest properly for the first time.

“Admiral Fitzwallace?”

“Hello, Donna,” he smiled; and stood, positively dwarfing her tree – hell, making the room itself look smaller – then he walked over to stand in front of the mantelpiece, hands clasped behind his back.

Donna looked up at him – and to her surprise, found that she felt pleased to see him. She’d been so weighed down with guilt after the bombing; Fitz had been a family man, a highly respected and much decorated military officer, an experienced and trusted advisor – yet she’d survived and he hadn’t. Donna Moss, unremarkable spinster and secretary - had lived when this extraordinary man had died. But now, somehow, none of that mattered. He looked so full of life, so content; his smile was infectious, just as she remembered it, and it was impossible to feel anything but happiness in his presence.

“So…” she began, “I guess you must be the Spirit of Christmas Present?”

He nodded. “Guess I am.”

Donna stood up, noting with vague interest that the existence of a ghost in her living room was no longer freaking her out - and found she couldn’t help the grin which was spreading across her face. “Nice outfit.”

His smile broadened and he spread his arms wide. “I’ve been in uniform all my adult life – this seemed like a natural progression for me.”

“I have to say, it suits you, Admiral.”

“Yeah? It’s not too bright?”

“No, it’s - ” Donna looked him up and down. “Perfect.”

He nodded and pulled down his jacket. “Thank you. And by the way, I’m not an admiral these days. Just ‘Fitz’ is fine.”

“Oh. Okay.” Donna wasn’t sure whether she’d ever be able to call the Admiral by his nickname to his face, but she nonetheless felt privileged that he’d asked her to use it.

“Well,” he said seriously. “You know why I’m here.”

Donna sighed, resignedly. She was being haunted. There was really no point in trying to avoid that fact any longer. “Yes.”

“And are you ready to go?”

“Yes.”

“Well come on, then. Touch my sleeve and we’re in business.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

When Donna opened her eyes this time, she and the Admiral – Fitz, she corrected in her head - were standing in another kitchen, large, brightly lit – and extremely messy. A blonde woman was opening the oven door and taking out two trays of cookies which smelled delicious, and two dark-haired children – a boy and a girl, were busily rolling out dough and cutting out shapes - and getting themselves covered with flour in the process.

There were bowls in the sink, bowls on the work surfaces – clearly the kitchen had seen a lot of activity that day, and Donna was reminded suddenly of Christmas Eve at home when she was little, helping her mother to bake sugar cookies, waiting eagerly for them to cool so that she and her sister could decorate them with lots of icing, candies and sprinkles.

The woman closed the oven door and turned with the trays, tipping the cookies onto a rack to cool. “How’s it going? Do you have any more ready yet?”

“I’ve made angels, mommy,” the little girl said, and her brother pulled a face.

“You always make angels.”

“So? You always make cars.”

“I don’t,” he protested indignantly, “and anyway, these aren’t cars, they’re Santa’s sleigh!”

The children’s mother started to put the cut-out dough on the baking trays. “Well, you’ve both done a great job.”

Donna looked at Fitz, half confused, half amused. “Okay – I have absolutely no idea where I am right now. Are you sure we’re in the right place?”

He was clearly trying to suppress the urge to laugh. “Are you questioning my skills as a navigator?”

“God, no,” she said in mock-horror. “I wouldn’t dr- ”

She was cut off by the opening of the kitchen door and turned to see a tall, dark-haired man walk in. Donna frowned in concentration – he looked familiar, yet she couldn’t immediately place him.

“Daddy!” the girl yelled, launching herself at him. “We’re making cookies.”

“So I see.” He kissed his wife. “Something smells good,” and leaned past her towards the cookies she’d just removed from the oven.

“Careful, they’re - ”

“Ow!”

“- hot.”

“You could have told me that before I burned my fingers,” he grumbled good-naturedly, setting his daughter down and turning to ruffle his son’s hair.

The woman flicked at his chest with a tea-towel. “Serves you right for being greedy.”

Donna smiled. They made a nice couple.

The man turned around and Donna got a good look at him for the first time. She turned to Fitz, her brow wrinkling further. “Now I’m even more confused. That’s Congressman Santos. What are we doing here?”

Fitz just raised an eyebrow. “All in good time.”

Donna opened her mouth to insist on an answer to her question, but was cut off by the sound of the doorbell. The congressman left the kitchen to answer it and Donna continued watching the children as they finished putting the dough on the trays and then smiled as their mother shooed them off to get cleaned up. As she began to start tidying up, her husband came back into the kitchen to tell her that their friends had had arrived, and that she’d have to leave all that until later. With a good natured roll of her eyes, she put the rest of the cookies in the oven, wiped her hands and followed him out of the room.

Fitz nodded towards the door. “Go on.”

Donna slipped through the door before it closed – she didn’t relish the idea of passing through any more of them if she could help it – and followed them into a cozy living room, filled with people taking off hats, scarves and coats, and dominated by a huge Christmas tree which was surrounded by boxes and packages.

The children Donna had already seen, plus a few older ones were already gathered around the tree, setting out the packages, pulling garlands, tinsel and all manner of tree decorations out of boxes; Donna saw the little girl who’d been making the angel cookies drape a length of tinsel around her father’s neck and laughed as he tickled her nose with it…

It dawned on her suddenly that she hadn’t stopped smiling since she got here, and that actually, her cheeks were beginning to ache. She felt a movement beside her and glanced up to see Fitz standing next to her.

“You like kids?”

Donna tensed. “I haven’t really – I mean, I - ”

“It wasn’t a trick question, Donna,” Fitz said kindly. “I was just asking if you liked kids.”

“Oh,” Donna flashed him a nervous smile. “Sorry. This whole thing is just so weird, and I… yeah. I like kids.”

He nodded and rocked slightly on his heels, beaming as he surveyed the room. “It makes my heart glad to see this. It’s a wonderful time.”

Donna looked up at him, her smile turning slightly ironic. “God bless us, every one?”

Fitz barked out a laugh and Donna found it impossible to suppress a giggle. “Something like that, I guess.”

She turned back to look at the tree and watched the children as they began to loop tinsel around it and hang ornaments on the branches. “You still haven’t told me why we’re - ”

The doorbell rang again, and Congressman Santos shook off the garland that his daughter had put around his neck before he stood and went into the hall to open it. Donna folded her arms and leaned against the door-frame, letting herself enjoy the scene unfolding before her – a happy family sharing their home with friends at this time of year – surely what the Holidays were all about. And she was feeling nostalgic, too. Her family had always decorated their tree a few days before Christmas, and she remembered the anticipation, the excitement when that day finally arrived – not quite as much as on Christmas Day, of course – but still a longed-for event; and there was food, mountains of it - lasagna, cannoli, and piles of gingerbread cookies, all of it home made and delicious, and plenty of friends and relatives with which to share it all.

In fact, Donna was so lost in her memories, that she’d forgotten to look to see who had been at the door – carol singers, perhaps – until she heard…

“… there wasn’t time to wait for you to get back to Washington.”

No.

It couldn’t be.

She turned around to see Josh walking across the hallway, and found she could do nothing other than stare at him in shock. Well, that and curse herself for the fact that although she wasn’t even here, her pulse had started to beat slightly faster at the sight of him. He looked tired and a little pale, his hair was sticking up at odd angles and wouldn’t have looked out of place on a porcupine, and – she interrupted her train of thought, frowning. Why was he in Texas this close to Christmas?

Donna turned to Fitz, who was still watching the rest of the Santos family and their friends decorating the tree. “What’s he doing here?”

“Why do you think he’s here, Donna?”

“I – don’t know.” She looked across at the two men again, watching as Santos led Josh into another room and closed the door.

“He never said anything about - I mean, I know he was trying to get the Congressman to run again, but it must be something more than that to get him - ” She broke off distractedly; there was something at the back of her mind, something Josh had said just before she’d told him she was leaving.

“Leo thinks I should be wandering the American byways in search of the next president.”

“No...” she breathed incredulously. “Surely he isn’t thinking of… I mean, I had no idea.”

“If you had – would it have made any difference?”

“Any difference to what?” Donna was still looking at the closed door, as if staring at it might enable her to see and hear what was happening on the other side.

“Any difference to your decision to leave.”

“No.” Donna felt herself flush. “Maybe.” She turned to face Fitz, who was looking at her expectantly and threw up her hands. “I don’t know - ” and she looked again at the closed door across the hall. “He’s really thinking of doing it?” she said softly, almost to herself.

“Doing what?”

“Leaving the White House. Running a campaign.”

Fitz shrugged. “Why wouldn’t he? He’s damn good at it, and things haven’t exactly been easy for him lately, have they?”

Donna felt a knot forming in her chest. “No, I guess not. But it’s just… Josh doesn’t – he doesn’t do that. Leave.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s difficult to - ” she looked back towards the door, and then up at Fitz again. “You don’t know him like I do. Josh spends his life worrying that someone he cares about will get hurt and it’ll be his fault. He wants to protect everyone; he wants to fix everything. And he doesn’t leave people – he’s lost people close to him, and it’s his greatest fear that it’ll happen again. He just - ”

Donna felt suddenly as if she’d had the breath knocked from her lungs.

Oh, God.

“Yes,” Fitz said emphatically – and Donna found herself squirming inwardly under the scrutiny of his gaze. “But anyway, you did what you had to do, right? Josh wasn’t interested in your career and he wasn’t prepared to help you, so -”

“No!” Donna protested vehemently. “I mean, yes, but it wasn’t just - ” and then she realized that she really couldn’t explain that her reasons for leaving hadn’t been purely professional … especially when she wasn’t fully prepared to admit that, even to herself.

So instead, she tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. “But he wouldn’t leave the President. I mean, he idolizes him, him and Leo – he wouldn’t just walk out before the end of the administration.”

“That’s true, I guess. But then again…”

“What?”

“Well, the President has less than a year left in office – what is there for Josh at the White House now?”

Donna frowned. “There’s still a lot to do.”

“Such as?”

“I don’t know, but Josh – all he’s ever really wanted to do was make people’s lives better and - ”

“He can’t do that by helping to get another good man elected president?”

“Well – yes, I guess…”

“So I repeat the question. What’s left for him? He was passed over for the job that should have been his. All that business over the China Summit, which he worked his ass off pulling together – you told CJ as much. And now – you’ve left him.”

“I left my job!”

Fitz shrugged, off-handedly. “If that’s what you want to think.”

“What is it with you … you spirits and my - ” love life? Donna coughed. “And Josh? Don’t try to tell me he’s thinking about leaving just because I quit.”

“Well, not just because of that, but you made the decision a whole lot easier.”

Donna shook her head quickly. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Why is it ridiculous?” Fitz eyed her, impassively. “I mean, you said it yourself. He doesn’t leave people - so it strikes me that he’d need a pretty big push.”

“He would.” She said quietly. “But I don’t think it has anything to do with me.”

“Well, I think you’re underestimating your importance to him.” Fitz turned her gently around to face him. “You and I didn’t have a chance to get to know each other all that well, Donna – but I didn’t realize you had such an enormous capacity for self deception,” he finished, gruffly.

Donna found herself opening her mouth to reply – but was unable to think of anything to say in response. She stared up at Fitz for a few seconds, then looked, without really seeing them, at the crowd of friends and family who were still decorating the tree amid much laughter and chatter, her mind a mass of confusion and indecision.

And once that tiny shred of doubt had crept in, it wasted no time in taking root… then shoots were sprouting everywhere and it was impossible to stop them. For the first time in months, she began to second-guess herself, the misgivings she thought she’d cast aside beginning to make themselves heard. She’d denied it to the spirits, and even to herself, but… was she really doing what they’d said?

Had it become so hard to deal with the way she felt - good and bad - about herself and about Josh that she’d decided it was just too hard and that the best way to stop feeling so hurt and confused was simply to stop feeling anything at all?

Well, no. She wasn’t doing that. Not exactly.

But she did have to admit that she’d deliberately stopped herself from remembering the good times they’d shared, all the things about Josh that had made her fall for him in the first place. By concentrating on his faults, on the idea that he was selfishly preventing her from furthering her career, she had thought it would make her decision to leave less hard to bear.

Well, that had been the theory anyway. In reality, although the pain had been dulled, it had still hurt - and it had taken all her strength to retain her composure and walk away that day. But Josh’s refusal to take her at her word had certainly helped to fan the flames of her resentment and to push aside any residual guilt she may have been feeling.

Donna sucked in a breath, dimly aware of Mrs Santos flying past her muttering something about cookies. She looked up to find that Fitz was watching her, his expression one of concern - and was about to ask him where they were going next when the sound of the front door slamming pulled her out of her daydream.

She spun around and took a couple of steps into the hallway, instinctively moving aside as Congressman Santos made his way back into the living room.

But Josh had gone.

She sagged against the wall and covered her face with her hands as words she’d spoken just days before came floating back to her mind.

“… while working for you is an honor and a privilege…”

Had she really said that?

Eight years.

A bullet.

A diary.

A car bomb… and it was all reduced to empty words and trite phrases?

“Donna?” Fitz’s voice, low and gentle pulled her back to herself and she looked up questioningly.

He held out his arm. “It’s time to go.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Donna was standing amid the twinkling lights of the bullpen once again, but now it was empty. She looked around, but Admiral Fitzwallace was nowhere to be seen – and then noticed Josh walking towards her, reading from the folder he held in one hand whilst gulping from the cup of coffee he held with the other. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a sweater, and from the lack of other staff and activity, Donna guessed it to be Christmas Day. Josh usually worked; he didn’t celebrate and in any case, his only family, his mother, lived too far away for him to visit for just the day. He’d usually taken a couple of days off in early January instead – or had attempted to, although Donna knew he hadn’t even been able to do that for the last couple of years.

She watched him walk into his office, still reading, and moved to stand in the doorway, propping herself up against the frame with her arms folded as she’d done so many times before.

Josh lowered the papers he was looking at, and stopped just to one side of his desk, reaching for a book on the shelf – when he stopped. Instead, he picked up a photograph that had been there for ages, a photo of himself and Donna which she recalled had been taken during their first year in office. In it, they were standing by her cubicle, looking down and reading something from a folder she was holding out to him; the sort of thing they did a hundred times a day – yet for some reason she could no longer remember, she’d dug out a simple frame and put the picture on his shelf. Josh hadn’t commented at the time – he’d just watched her put it there with an amused grin on his face and gone back to work, and over the years, Donna had wondered if he even knew it was there… but in all that time it had never been moved or put away.

Josh stood there for a few seconds, just looking at the picture – then he put it back abruptly, picked out the book he wanted and sat down behind his desk.

Donna forgot to wonder why she was here, instead taking advantage of the fact that she could look at him without having to worry about who might see her. She watched as he went back to reading the file, his chin propped on his hand – even as she told herself that a concentrated bout of Josh-watching wasn’t exactly going to help with her plan to get over him. But she did it anyway, insisting to herself that this was the last time and that, in any case, she wasn’t really here, so it couldn’t really hurt. Josh hunched over and looked at something in the file, then picked up the book and started thumbing through it. He must have found what he wanted, because he laid the book open on the desk, and had just pulled himself over to his computer when the phone rang. He scooted back and punched the speakerphone button.

“Josh Lyman.”

“Did you know it’s possible for a couple of two-and-a-half-year-olds to eat more pie than either of their parents?”

Josh chuckled softly. “I didn’t, but given they’re your kids, I can’t say I’m all that surprised.”

“Well. Thanks.”

Josh swung his feet up onto the desk. “So, how’s it going?”

Donna heard Toby sigh at the other end of the line. “It’s a madhouse. Huck has a new Spiderman outfit and while he’s not actually climbing the walls, he’s come pretty close a few times.”

Josh smiled. “And Molly?”

“She’s trying to dismantle a doll’s house right now.”

“Industrious.”

“Her mother doesn’t think so.”

“Ah.” Josh leaned back in his chair. “Hey, say ‘Hi’ to Andy for me, okay? And if you can bring yourself to wish her a Merry Christmas, you could do that too.”

“And you insist you’re not a Presbyterian.”

Josh sniffed. “Whatever – listen, you coming in later?”

“Yeah.” There was a pause, then Toby asked, “You going to be in all day?”

“Probably. It’s quiet and there’s stuff I need to catch up on, so - ”

“Josh?”

“Hm?”

“Have you called her yet?”

Josh jerked himself upright, his eyes opening wide with surprise. “What? No, I - ”

“Call her.”

He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t, Toby,” he said softly.

“Why not?”

“You know why.”

“Well, don’t you think you should at least tell her why?”

Josh grinned, weakly. “What are you now, a yenta?”

“No. Just someone who, you know, gives a damn. About her. Not you.”

“I got that.”

“Josh - ”

“Toby,” Josh began, scratching the back of his head. “It’s just … complicated. Anyway, she’s the one who quit without so much as a goodbye. If she wants to speak to me, she knows where I am.”

“Maybe. But you should call her.”

“Toby,” he said again, warningly.

There was a short silence before Toby spoke again. “Okay. So I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.”

Josh ended the call and sat, staring at the phone for a few seconds before he pulled himself back over to his computer and started typing.

Donna was unable to move from her vantage point in the doorway, her astonishment at what she’d just heard keeping her rooted to the spot. Even Toby – Toby – seemed to think that Josh was … had a - a thing for her. And earlier, Noah had shown her that Leo seemed to believe that, too.

She was so preoccupied with her own thoughts, that Donna hadn’t noticed Josh get up from his desk and walk towards her. Before she could stand aside, he’d moved through the open door, passing so close to her that, had she really been standing there, his body would have brushed against hers. Donna could have sworn she could feel his warmth, smell his familiar scent as he passed her – then he stopped suddenly on the other side of the doorway and turned back, a puzzled expression on his face. Donna forgot to breathe – she wasn’t here; he couldn’t see her, and yet she had the strongest feeling, just for a second, that he was looking directly at her.

And then Josh shook his head, his expression cleared and he turned slowly away, Donna moving to watch him as he walked to the other end of the bullpen and out through the swinging doors.

Whereas before, Donna hadn’t been able to move, now she was unable to keep still. She walked into Josh’s office, and looked, without really seeing it, at the photo of the two of them on the shelf, her head still spinning with the possibilities she’d finally begun to allow herself to consider.

What if they were right? Leo, Toby, the spirits she’d met so far – they seemed to think that not only was Josh in love with her, but that he had been so for some time. And yet, how could it be true? Sure, he’d been kind to her, at times he’d been incredibly sweet to her – more than that, really – but … he loved her? He was in love with her?

Surely she’d have seen something, noticed something in his behavior, his demeanor; she’d have seen some clue as to –

“Yeah. I’m still here…”

The memory of his face, the one she’d wanted more than anything on earth to see as she struggled to break through the thick, drug-induced fog in her head in the hospital now rose to the surface of her mind. The look in his eyes as he’d spoken those words, the way he’d looked at her then, and in the days that followed, his attentiveness, his concern – she’d ruthlessly packed away all those memories, putting them down to a mixture of wishful thinking and faulty recollection.

But now, she forced herself to remember, and again, asked herself honestly the question she could no longer avoid.

What if the spirits were right? And if they were, then…oh, God, what had she done? She began to twist her hands together absently as she paced the floor of the office. She’d pushed him away. She’d pushed him away and tried to wound him deliberately, because she wanted him to be hurting as much as she was hurting inside. Because she’d been so hurt and humiliated by what CJ had said, because she’d finally seen how pathetic it was to have devoted herself for years to someone who she was certain was never going to see her as anything other than a friend and colleague – she’d pushed him away and finally, had committed the cardinal sin as far as Josh was concerned.

She’d left.

And she hadn’t even said goodbye.

Feeling weary and a little ashamed, Donna walked slowly out into the bullpen, to find Admiral sitting at her old desk.

She walked over to the cubicle, perched herself on the edge of the desk in front of him and folded her arms. “I think I’ve seen enough,” she said, quietly. “Can you take me home?”

Fitz turned to face her and Donna noticed for the first time that he looked much older and more tired then he had before. His face wore a few more lines, and the energy he’d been radiating since they’d met had greatly diminished, almost as though a light inside of him had dimmed.

“I’m sorry, Donna,” he said gently, “but you know you can’t go home yet. You’ve got one more visitor to see.”

She rubbed a hand across her forehead. “But surely,” she protested,” I don’t need them now. I know what I’ve done and I promise I’ll try to - ” but even as she spoke, she knew her remonstrations were useless. “Okay,” she sighed. “What’s next?”

Fitz pulled himself up out of the chair, stiffly. “This is where I leave you, Donna,” he said softly. “My time here is short, and it’s coming to an end.”

He took her hand between both of his and looked at her intently. “But whatever happens next, just remember - listen. Learn. And more importantly – let yourself feel.”

Donna nodded solemnly. “I will. I promise.”

Fitz nodded. “Goodbye, Donna.”

She found tears welling up in her eyes and gave his hand a squeeze, thankful to have a chance to do something that she’d been denied before. “Goodbye, Admiral. And thank you.”

Fitz turned and walked away, his red robe billowing along behind him as he walked among the empty desks; Donna kept her eyes on him, watching his figure fade until finally it disappeared altogether.

She sighed and looked around. What was she supposed to do now?

Feeling more than a little silly, she closed her eyes and waited.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Part Four.

The photo Josh looks at actually does exist and sits on the bookshelf in his office! Here - with many thanks to coloneljack for the cap!

Keeping the Spirit Part Four (PG)

Mon, 15 Dec 2008 22:31:10 GMT

Notes, disclaimers etc. in Part One

Um, yeah... I'm a big ol' meanie...

Part Two.
Part Three.

Originally posted between 17 and 21 December 2007.

Last time...

“Goodbye, Donna.”

She found tears welling up in her eyes and gave his hand a squeeze, thankful to have a chance to do something that she’d been denied before. “Goodbye, Admiral. And thank you.”

Fitz turned and walked away, his red robe billowing along behind him as he walked among the empty desks; Donna kept her eyes on him, watching his figure fade until finally it disappeared altogether.

She sighed and looked around. What was she supposed to do now?

Feeling more than a little silly, she closed her eyes and waited.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Keeping the Spirit - Part Four

When Donna opened her eyes, she wasn’t surprised to find herself standing in the middle of a cemetery. The sky was a murky grey, the trees were bare, and for the first time since leaving her apartment, she felt a chill run through her… although it had nothing to do with feeling cold.

Clasping her arms instinctively to her chest, she shivered involuntarily. She could feel the hair prickling on the back of her neck, and turned slowly to find herself faced with the last of the three spirits about whom she had been told.

“Am – am I in the presence of the Spirit of Christmas-Yet-to-Come?” she asked nervously.

This specter was shrouded in black, its face hidden by a cowl. It inclined its head once in response to Donna’s question, then raised an arm, and with a gloved hand, pointed a finger over Donna’s right shoulder.

“Well, you’re freaking me out the most, that’s for sure,” she muttered under her breath as she turned to look behind her at the rows of headstones. “Okay,” she said, puffing out a breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

Donna began to walk slowly in the direction the spirit had indicated, the gravel on the pathway crunching underfoot. Coming to a line of what looked to be relatively new headstones, she paused, waiting to be shown where to go next. The spirit moved to stand, statue-still beside her, and raised its arm again, pointing at one of them.

“So this is the moment of truth?” she asked, even as she knew she wouldn’t get a response. “This is where you show me - ” and then she stopped, struck suddenly by an incongruous thought that just wouldn’t leave her head. It had been a while since she’d read the book, but - wasn’t the Ghost of Christmas Yet-To-Come supposed to be about seven feet tall? She frowned as she looked the figure up and down and wondered if perhaps there could be more than one of them – because this one appeared to be considerably smaller than that.

Before Donna could help herself, she found herself blurting out -“Okay, look. I’m sorry if this isn’t what I’m supposed to be doing, but really, aren’t you a little, well, short for this?”

The spirit didn’t react, just stood unmoving, still pointing towards the headstone, and despite her thought that it didn’t really cut that imposing a figure, Donna nonetheless felt more than a little uneasy in relation to what she was about to see. And as was her wont when she was nervous, she started to chatter inconsequentially.

“You see, I always thought the Ghost of Christmas Future was supposed to be tall and scary – you know, what with the whole faceless cowl and scythe thing, but I’m afraid you don’t really… um… look the part.”

The spirit still didn’t move.

“Okay.” Donna swallowed hard, her insides churning apprehensively, her gaze now fixed on the grave in front of her. “Look, I get it. Seriously. The other spirits told me I need to stop being so bitter and focusing on the negative things and I’ll try to do that, I really will, so I don’t think I need to see any more – can’t I just go home and - ? ”

Donna stopped talking and sighed. The spirit was still pointing at the headstone.

She took a deep breath and walked over to it, kneeling down in front to read the inscription.

As she’d feared, she was reading her own epitaph.

Donnatella Moss

She skipped down to the dates at the bottom.

1973 – 20... wait. What?

This didn’t make sense. Donna checked the dates again, checked her mental arithmetic – and couldn’t contain her exasperation. She had been more nervous than she’d been prepared to admit about what she was going to discover on her journey with this spirit; and this latest revelation, on top of everything else she’d seen and heard over the last few hours was enough to snap the already thin thread of her patience. She stumbled to her feet and whirled round to face the spirit, who was standing stock-still behind her, its head bent, face obscured by the cowl.

“Wait a minute!” Donna gestured frantically to the gravestone behind her and marched back towards her impassive guide. “Eighty-seven?!” Her voice rose in indignation. “I’m going to die at eighty-seven? What the hell..? I thought this was the part where you showed me that I’ll be going to an early grave unless I change my ways or something!”

The spirit raised its head and, in a completely unexpected gesture, put its hands on its hips.

“Oh, for God’s sake, do you ever shut up?”

There was no mistaking that voice. Donna almost jumped backwards in shock as the ghost pulled back its hood. “You?” she croaked.

The Spirit of Christmas Yet-to-Come settled the heavy fabric around her shoulders and ran a hand through her short curls, no longer jet black as they had once been.

“No wonder you and Josh got along so well; you can't stop talking either!”

Donna found herself completely at a loss for words. As if the simple fact of actually being haunted wasn’t bad enough, someone up there clearly had a pretty twisted sense of humor. Mrs Landingham, Noah Lyman, Admiral Fitwallace, and now … Mandy Hampton?

She knew her mouth was hanging open, and finally managed to collect herself enough to snap it closed. “What the ..?” Donna stammered, watching the spirit as she walked over to the grave.

“Well, you know who I am and why we’re here,” the spirit said and turned, folding her arms across her chest.

Donna frowned. “I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Oh?”

“Well, in the book… I mean, I thought…” she trailed off helplessly – and then realized that something else wasn’t quite right. “Hang on – how can you be the Spirit of Christmas Yet-to-Come? You’re not…” She stopped suddenly, wondering if it was impolite to ask someone – or, rather, their ghost – if they were, in fact, deceased.

But Mandy had lost none of her directness. “Dead?”

“Uh… yes.”

“Well not in 2005, I’m not, but I am this far into the future.”

“Oh. I see.” Donna took a good look at her new spirit guide. “I think.”

Mandy looked to be sometime in her sixties - possibly a little older - but she was as striking as ever, nonetheless. Her hair was mostly silver, her complexion was of course no longer as smooth as it had been, but her dark eyes were still as bright and full of fire as Donna remembered.

“So now we’ve established that - you thought I was going to show you that you’ll die young?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you don’t. Although,” Mandy cocked her head to the side, considering. “I guess in a way, you did.”

“What do you mean?”

The spirit regarded her thoughtfully and nodded towards the headstone. “Take a closer look.”

Donna frowned then knelt by the grave once more and read –

Donnatella Moss

Beloved Sister, Aunt and Friend

1973-2060

She looked up. “Well?”

Mandy waved an all-encompassing hand. “Look around you.”

Donna’s frown deepened as she moved to look at the headstone next to hers. And then the one next to that – then she got up and walked to look at a couple of others in different rows.

Sarah Clarke

Beloved wife of Daniel and mother of James and Laura…

Annabel Langdon

Beloved wife, mother and grandmother…

James Rawlings

Beloved husband and father of …

Susan Roberts

Beloved wife and …

Donna looked at a few more stones, then returned to stand at the spirit’s side. “Oh, come on. You of all people aren’t going to tell me I didn’t have a good or full life because I didn’t get married or have any kids?”

Mandy’s expression was sarcasm personified. “Hello – have we met?”

Donna rolled her eyes. “Okay, so what - ?”

“It’s more to do with the reasons you didn’t get married or have any kids.”

Donna was still confused. “Well, you’re not going to tell me it’s because I never got over -” She stopped, feeling suddenly awkward when she remembered just who she was talking to.

But the spirit appeared not to notice. “It’s not that, either,” she said. “Although I will tell you that when Josh died, part of you went with him.”

Donna felt a leaden weight settle in the pit of her stomach; Josh was twelve years her senior, so it made sense that he would have… but even so, the idea that he had gone while she remained wasn’t something she really wanted to contemplate.

“But isn’t that what you wanted?” Mandy said coldly. “To be without him?”

Donna stared at her incredulously. “Not like that!”

Mandy shrugged. “Just checking.”

“How could you even begin to think I’d think like that?” Donna protested vehemently.

“Oh, relax, would you?” The spirit waved a hand and perched herself atop a nearby plinth. “Of course I didn’t mean that. But you can’t deny that you’ve spent the last few months trying to convince yourself that you don’t want or need him.”

It was on the tip of Donna’s tongue to insist she’d been doing nothing of the sort – but a glance at the expression on Mandy’s face told her that would be pointless. So instead, she changed the subject, trying to inject a brightness into her tone that she really didn’t feel.

“Well, if you’re not going to show me that my misdeeds are going to send me to an early grave, why are you here?”

Mandy’s brows knit together as she subjected Donna to an intense scrutiny. Then her expression cleared and it seemed to Donna as though she had reached some sort of decision. “I thought that much would be clear,” she said brusquely. “I’m going to show you what could happen to you if you don’t stop down this path you appear to be bent on following.”

Donna raised her eyebrows in surprise. “But I’m not! Not any more, I - ”

Mandy’s eyes narrowed. “So why were you going to tell me you hadn’t been doing all those things I said before?”

“I wasn’t, I - ”

Mandy didn’t heed Donna’s attempt at an interruption. “Why, after everything you’ve learned tonight about Josh and the way he feels about you, do you still insist on denying it? If you want to get over him and you need to get away from him in order to do it, well then, okay, I can’t stop you.” Mandy stood and walked to stand at Donna’s side. “But,” she said in a gentler tone, “lying to yourself and trying to force yourself to stop feeling the way you do isn’t going to work.” She took a deep breath. “And I know what I’m talking about, because I loved him once, too.”

Donna’s eyes widened in surprise - and she couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

The spirit shot her a sidelong glance. “And while you may find that hard to believe,” she continued, “it’s true. Despite his many and manifest faults, Josh is that rare thing – a beautiful man. Smart, charming, very cute, loyal to a fault and passionate about the things he believes in. And he’s hard to get over. He gets under your skin in a way you’d never have thought possible, and he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.”

Donna was more than a little surprised to hear all that, coming from Mandy. By the time they’d met, her relationship with Josh had been all but over, and what Donna had seen hadn’t been at all pretty. But hearing her talk about him that way, now… Donna found a lump forming in her throat. “I know,” she whispered, finding unexpected relief in honesty at last. “And it got to be that every time I looked at him, all I could think about was how much it hurt to feel the way I did.”

“So you decided to stop.”

“Yes. I didn’t know what else to do. All I knew was that I didn’t want to feel like that any more,” she drew in a shaky breath. “And the only way I could do that was to try to get over him.”

A mischievous smile hovered around Mandy’s lips. “How’s that working for you, so far?”

“Not too well, obviously,” Donna deadpanned, gratefully responding to the sudden shift in tone.

“Well, I’d offer to give you some pointers, but I think you’re too far gone.”

Donna groaned and put her hands to her face. “God, I’m hopeless.”

“No, not hopeless,” Mandy said, kindly. “You’re just in love.”

Donna peered through her fingers at her companion before she removed her hands from her face. “You know, hearing stuff like that from you is seriously freaking me out.”

Mandy cocked her head to one side. “Good.” She stretched out her arm. “Shall we go?”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Donna’s first thought, as she let go of the sleeve of the spirit’s robe was that they hadn’t moved. But though she was still surrounded by headstones, the grey sky was now blue, and she was standing in bright winter sunshine. Then when she looked around at the graves, she could see that the inscriptions and the symbols engraved on the memorials were different than before.

This was a Jewish cemetery.

She didn’t pretend not to know what she was here to see.

She took a couple of deep breaths. “So… where is he?”

Mandy nodded in the direction of a grave a couple of rows to their left, and Donna had begun to make her way over to it when she noticed two figures approaching slowly from the opposite direction. As they came closer, Donna was able to see that they were an old woman and a much younger man; the woman was clearly quite frail and leaned heavily on a stick and on the man’s arm as she trod carefully along the path.

The woman and her companion left the path and began to walk among the graves and Donna frowned in confusion when she realized that they all appeared to be walking towards the same place. When the two other visitors reached the edge of the grave, the woman turned to face the stone, lifted her head and smiled – and Donna realized with a start that this was no stranger. She was looking at Rachel Lyman.

“Hello, Joshua.”

Donna made her way slowly past Josh’s mother and her companion who, she now saw, was a young rabbi, and came to a stop in front of the two adjacent stones.

Noah and Joanie. Of course.

Mrs Lyman was speaking softly and Donna had stepped back to stand at her side before it occurred to her that something wasn’t right here. Josh’s mother was still alive? A feeling of dread washed over her as she turned to look at Mandy, who said nothing, merely nodding towards the headstone.

Hesitantly, Donna moved forward and forced herself to read the inscription.

She recognized the Hebrew forms of Joshua and Noah, and some other words she knew formed a blessing. Slowly, she ran her eyes further down the stone until she came to the English inscription, and finally… the dates at the bottom.

1961-2012.

No.

She blinked and looked again.

… 2012.

Donna started to back away, the text engraved on the headstone beginning to blur as her eyes filled with tears. When she had reached the edge of the grave, she sank down heavily on the grass and began to rock backwards and forwards slowly, hugging herself tightly, her head resting on her knees. She cleared her throat several times in an attempt to clear the apple-sized lump that appeared to have formed there, her breathing was shaky and uneven, and she couldn’t think straight – she couldn’t think at all – the only thing in her mind that it was too soon, too soon…

She realized suddenly that she was gulping in air, her head starting to spin from the sudden surfeit of oxygen. As she fought to get her breathing under control, the soft voice of the elderly woman next to her began to penetrate the fog in her head.

“I’m sorry, Joshua,” she was saying, “but I think this is going to be my last visit.” Donna looked up, and wiped a hand across her eyes in time to see the young rabbi open his mouth, probably to offer a contradiction - but Rachel waved him away. “I’ll be joining you all shortly, I think, and it’s about time. It’s bad enough to have outlived one child… but to have outlived both of them… well, let’s just say it’s not the way I envisaged things working out.”

Rachel paused, smiling softly. “So this is goodbye. For now. But I’ll be with you all soon.” Slowly, and with the help of the young man at her side, she moved forward and laid a pebble on the headstone. “I love you,” she whispered, before she turned and moved to her husband’s grave, then her daughter’s to lay a stone on each, and say her goodbyes. She lingered briefly at her husband’s graveside, and then she and her companion made their way back to the path and began to walk away.

Donna watched them go in silence, looking after them long after they had disappeared from view.

After a few minutes, she saw a flash of black out of the corner of her eye as Mandy came over to sit down next to her. “You okay?”

Donna picked absently at the grass beside her. “I’m fine,” she ground out, still staring off into the distance. “So,” she puffed out a breath and turned to face the spirit. “How’d you get this job?”

Mandy snorted. “Of all the questions you must have, that’s the one you want answered?”

Donna pulled up some more grass and muttered, “Seems as good a place to start as any.”

“Donna,” Mandy sighed, “just ask me what you want to know.”

She shook her head, struggling to blink back her tears, and then took a deep breath. God, this was hard. “How did he…” she couldn’t bring herself to say the word. “What happened?” she asked quietly.

“He had a heart attack,” Mandy said simply. “There was nothing anybody could have done; it happened pretty quickly. Given the kind of stress levels he lived with, and then – well, let’s just say things didn’t ease up on that front after you left, and …” she shrugged, “you know what he was like.”

Donna tried to swallow through the lump in her throat. “Don’t talk about him like that,” she croaked, feebly.

Mandy raised a well-kept eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Like he’s… you know…”

“Well, I’m sorry Donna, but here, he is d -”

Donna jumped up and began to walk away, sucking in huge, gasping breaths as she tried to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. When she looked at her hands, she found they were shaking and clenched her fists in an effort to stop them, digging her nails into her palms.

This can’t happen, she thought angrily. It can’t.

“He was always a workaholic, Donna,” the spirit’s voice came from just behind her. “You know he was. But somehow, and I don’t know how, you kept him from the worst excesses. But after you left -”

Donna stopped and rounded on her, furiously. “You’re saying it’s my fault?”

“No, of course not,” Mandy said, vehemently. “He had a heart attack, Donna, and that’s nobody’s fault. It’s just that after you left, he never let up. He always worked incredibly hard, you know that, but without you, he became even more monomaniacal, if that’s possible.”

Donna laughed humorlessly. “I can’t think that it would be. But then he always was an overachiever.” She screwed her eyes tight shut and swallowed hard; talking and thinking about Josh in the past tense was making her feel sick. “But,” she said, shakily, needing to ask the question even if she didn’t like the answer, “is - is it set in stone? I mean, is there no way to change things?”

Mandy looked ahead, squinting in the sunshine. “This is just one of several alternative futures, Donna. I can’t tell you for sure what happens in any of the others – this one is mine and is the one I’m supposed to show you. I can’t predict the future any more than you can. But maybe if Josh had had something – or someone – else in his life to focus that not inconsiderable energy of his on, it would have provided a better balance and eased the pressure.”

Donna felt a tiny spark of hope beginning to flicker in her chest. “So, maybe if - ”

The spirit shrugged, non-commitally, and started to walk towards the path. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Donna set off after her. “But surely - ”

“I told you, I don’t have a crystal ball.”

“Yes, but - ”

“Donna,” Mandy said, a little exasperatedly, “I really can’t tell you any more. And,” she said, in a tone that brooked no argument, “now we have to move on.”

Donna knew there was no point in trying to glean anything further. It appeared the spirits were on a schedule and there was no messing with it, so she touched the sleeve of her companion’s robe and closed her eyes…

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The room she found herself in now was unfamiliar. It was obviously a bedroom, quite large and airy, tastefully decorated, very tidy – in fact, she thought, it was maybe just a little too tidy for her tastes. It looked comfortable, sure, but there was something a bit impersonal about it.

She walked to the window and looked out – but that offered her no clue as to where she was. She could see houses on the other side of the street, trees stripped bare and stark against the gray winter skies. She pulled back and looked around the room once more, then hearing the sound of a muffled voice drifting up from below she walked cautiously to the door, opened it and went out onto the landing.

“I just didn’t think it was a good idea for her to be alone, not now, not after…” Her mother’s voice floated up to her as Donna sat down at the top of the stairs where she could see Marjorie standing in the hallway, talking on the phone.

“I’m staying for a few days. I know that’s going to mean I’m not home for Christmas, but we’ll have to manage.”

Donna was puzzled. Why wasn’t her mother going to be at home for Christmas? And more to the point, what was she doing here and whose house was this?

“No, I know, but I’m sure they’ll understand.”

If her mother was here, then –

“It’s yours.” Mandy’s voice, coming from just behind her, made Donna jump.

“I know Mrs Landingham said it was your job to startle people, but do you have to take that so literally?”

Mandy pouted. “But that’s the fun part.”

Donna just shook her head and turned back to look down at her mother. “This is my house?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Does that matter right now?”

“Well, no, not really, I guess,

Marjorie finished her conversation and replaced the receiver, then walked into one of the rooms off the hall. Donna stood and had walked back up to the landing when she heard a door slam, and saw herself, dressed in jeans and a pale blue sweater carrying two dusty, yet familiar looking cardboard boxes, come through another door and begin to make her way up the stairs.

“Donna?” Her mother’s voice, issuing from somewhere off the hall made the Donna carrying the boxes stop. “Yeah?”

Marjorie’s head appeared around the door. “I’m making some tea – would you like some?”

“Uh, I – yes please,” the other Donna said carelessly, clearly wanting to prevent any attempt at a conversation on her mother’s part as she continued to climb the stairs.

Donna and the spirit followed her into the room they’d just come out of – and she was surprised when she realized it must be her own bedroom several years in the future. It just didn’t feel like her, somehow.

She watched herself put the boxes on the bed, toe off her shoes and sit down slowly, one leg tucked underneath her. Hesitantly, the woman on the bed pulled open the first, smaller box, turned it upside down and emptied it, spreading the contents – photos and newspaper cuttings, mostly - out on the bed around her. Then she pulled the second box towards her and started to take out a few more things; some books, magazines, photo albums – and then, rummaging around in the bottom, she pulled out an old ID badge, one the Donna who was watching recognized instantly.

She found herself unable to tear her gaze from her older self as she began to look through the photographs. “When is this?” Donna whispered to the spirit, even though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer. “It’s – it’s after he… after Josh…” she swallowed, still unable to say the word, “isn’t it?”

“Yes,” said Mandy, quietly. “Two weeks after, to be precise. Christmas Eve, 2012.”

“And this is why my mother doesn’t want me to be alone?”

“It is.”

“But if he… it happened two weeks ago, why this? Why now?”

“Do you really want to know?”

Donna looked at Mandy, her black robes settled around her as she sat casually in a chair in the corner of the room.

“That sounds ominous.”

“You didn’t want her to come. In fact, you expressly told her not to come. But she’s your mother. She saw through the crap you were feeding her about being fine and being too busy at work and turned up on the doorstep yesterday.”

Donna bridled a little at that – but then she remembered the conversation she’d had with her mother earlier that evening, how she’d been impatient for it to be over, how she’d wanted to avoid spending a lot of time with her family over the holidays… and realized that it wasn’t such a great leap from that, to the way she apparently behaved towards her mother in the future..

Donna moved closer to the bed and sat on the edge, trying to get used to the fact that she was looking over her own shoulder as her older self sorted through the photographs. She was clearly looking for something specific, although every so often, her gaze would linger on one or other of them before she put them back into the box. Donna hadn’t looked at most of these photos for ages; there were quite a lot, dating from early on the first campaign to the second inauguration and beyond, quite a few of them of her and Josh – at official functions, or informal gatherings, or even just on nights out with CJ, Toby and Sam. Sometimes, it was just the two of them in the picture, in others they were part of a group shot, but in nearly all of them, they were standing or sitting next to each other. Some shots were posed and they’d both be beaming at the camera, and in others they’d been caught off guard, sitting together quietly, in mid conversation or some other informal situation. The other Donna was now looking at one of those, taken, by the looks of it, on the night of the second Inauguration. In it, Donna was sitting at a table, talking to Toby, while Josh stood with one hand resting on the back of her chair. Donna had looked at that photo many, many times and yet… somehow, she’d missed the soft smile on Josh’s face as he looked down at her. The memories of that night welled up suddenly; the bad cops, the snowballs, the way it had felt to be in Josh’s arms when they’d finally managed to dance together … lost in her thoughts, Donna started at the sound of a sharp intake of breath. She’d been so busy looking at the photographs that she hadn’t been looking at herself; and when she did so now, she could see that the woman next to her was crying silently, the hand pressed to her mouth stifling the strangled sobs that were wracking her body.

Donna found herself getting choked up, too and took a couple of deep breaths to stave off the impending tears. “Didn’t she – I mean, I … didn’t I see him again after..?”

“After you left?”

Donna nodded, her eyes still trained on the woman sitting by her on the bed.

“Just once, the following year, but that was it. And before you ask, I can’t tell you any more about that, so there’s no point asking me. Oh, and by the way, you should remember the date,” Mandy said coldly. “It’s the last time you ever cry.”

Donna turned to look at her incredulously. “What?”

Mandy shrugged. “It’s true. One last time before you go back into your little cocoon.”

Donna just glared at her.

“Hey - none of this is my fault. It’s all down to you, so don’t get pissy with me.”
Scowling, Donna turned back to look at the woman seated on the bed. She was no longer sobbing quite so violently and was now studying another photo, one Donna remembered had been taken around last Christmas, during the tree-lighting ceremony at the White House. She and Josh were standing together, slightly apart from the main group of onlookers. He was leaning in to say something to her – probably to tease her some more about her present; their heads were almost touching, his dimples were out in full force and her eyes were shining, reflecting the bright lights that were encircling the majestic Norwegian fir.

Then suddenly, it was as though a switch had flipped, and the older Donna cleared her throat a couple of times before she began throwing the photographs and cuttings back into the box, fiercely. She had almost finished packing them away when there was a knock on the bedroom door, and her mother appeared, bearing the promised cup of tea.
Marjorie set the cup down on the bedside table, and bent to pick up a couple of stray photographs from the floor.

“These are nice,” she commented, before handing them back to her daughter, who immediately consigned them to the box with the others. “I don’t remember seeing those before.” She moved to the other side of the bed – and Donna sprang up, realizing that her mother was about to sit in the exact spot she was currently occupying.

Mandy sniggered. “She can’t see you or touch you, you know.”

Donna glared at her and walked over to perch on the arm of her chair. “I do know,” she hissed. “But the idea of my mother sitting on me – through me… whatever – is just a little too weird.”

The spirit shrugged and Donna turned her attention back to the two women sitting on the bed.

“Donna,” Marjorie began, watching her daughter throwing things haphazardly back into the box, “I know this is a … difficult time for you, and I don’t mean to interfere – but I’m worried about you.”

Donna didn’t look up. She finished packing away the pictures and other things into the box and reached for the lid. “You needn’t be,” she said flatly. “I’m fine.”

Her mother laid a hand on her arm. “You’re not,” she persisted, gently. “This isn’t right. Josh was a big part of your life, and while I know you parted on… less than amicable terms, it wasn’t always like that. Yet you wouldn’t go to the funeral. Mrs. Lyman called a couple of times and you wouldn’t speak to her.”

“I just – I didn’t want to.”

“It’s unlike you.”

Donna rounded on her, suddenly. “How the hell do you know what’s like me and what isn’t, mom?”

Marjorie’s initial look of shock was quickly replaced by an almost glacial expression.

“I know this isn’t you, Donna,” she said, firmly. “Or at least it used not to be. You’ve got your high-powered job and a nice house and an expensive car, but I can’t remember the last time you ever talked about a friend. I can’t remember the last time you went out on a date, or were interested in anyone. Whatever happened between you and Josh all those years ago, that’s when this,” she waved a hand around emphatically, “all started. What on earth did he do to you to turn you into this – this… empty shell?”

“What did he do?” Donna jumped off the bed, her hands balled tightly into fists at her side. “He took me for granted, is what he did! He took me for granted, he stifled my career, he - ”

“Oh, for God’s sake Donna, just listen to yourself! The man’s dead and you wouldn’t go to his funeral because he wouldn’t give you a damn promotion?!”

“No! I didn’t go because it would have meant saying -” she broke off suddenly and covered her face with her hands, sinking back down onto the bed, sucking in long, ragged breaths.

“It would have meant saying goodbye,” Marjorie said perceptively, her anger vanishing as quickly as it had appeared as she sat down and pulled her daughter into a hug.

Donna nodded.

Mother and daughter sat silently for a long time. Then Donna pulled back from the hug and pulled out a few tissues from the box beside the bed.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled, blowing her nose.

“You don’t have to apologize, dear.” Marjorie stood up and walked around to the other side of the bed, idly turning over a couple of the books and magazines that were still strewn around.

Donna just sniffed again, reached for another tissue and wiped her eyes.

The younger Donna, sitting quietly with the spirit, swallowed hard. “I’ve seen enough,” she croaked. “Are we done here?”

Mandy looked up at her, her expression almost apologetic. “Not quite.”

“Please, I don’t think I can bear -” Donna began, stopping suddenly when she saw her mother pick up a book from the bed and turn it over gently in her hands.

“’The Art and Artistry of Alpine Skiing’?”

The Donna sitting on the bed blew her nose again. “Yeah. I’d been teasing Josh about wanting skiing equipment for Christmas one year… and he gave me that.”

“An unusual gift.”

“I guess it was. But then again, it wasn’t really.” She smiled, ruefully. “Josh has,” she sucked in a breath, “had - this incredible way of doing or saying just the right thing at just the right time. Of course, he also had an incredible knack for saying or doing exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time - but this wasn’t one of those.”

Marjorie smiled and opened the book.

“Well …” she breathed, after a moment or two.

“What?”

“The inscription. It’s beautiful. I didn’t realize he …”

Donna smiled wanly. “I know. I had no idea he could write so – elegantly, either.”

Marjorie looked up. “No, I meant I hadn’t realized he felt that way about you back then.”

Donna frowned. “What way?”

Marjorie held out the book. “Look at what he’s written, Donna,” she said gently. “I’d defy any man to write something like that to a woman he didn’t care for, deeply.”

Donna took it, the puzzled frown still creasing her brow as she opened the book at the flyleaf and read silently. When she’d finished, she closed it slowly, and sat looking at the cover for a minute or two, running her thumb gently over the embossed lettering of the title.

Then she cleared her throat and looked up at her mother, her composure regained, her expression carefully blank. To the Donna looking on, it felt as though the woman she and her spirit companion had been watching had disappeared and been replaced by a different person, because the atmosphere in the room seemed suddenly to have changed completely.

“Well, it’s too late for that now,” the older Donna said impassively, reaching for the second of the boxes and putting the book in the bottom.

Marjorie may have been rendered temporarily speechless, but the expression of dismay on her face spoke volumes as she watched her daughter stand up and, without looking at any of it, put everything else back into the box.

“It took me a while,” Donna said, putting on the lid, “but I got over him.”

Marjorie shook her head. “You never got over Josh, Donna,” she said, her eyes narrowing shrewdly. “You just learned to exist without him.” She stood and walked to the door. “Because what you’re doing isn’t living.”

Donna said nothing. She stacked the boxes one on top of the other, picked them up and walked over to a large closet in the corner of the room. Her mother watched sadly for a few minutes, as Donna set the boxes on the floor of the closet and pushed them underneath the bottom shelf, as far back as they would go.

“Drink your tea before it gets cold,” Marjorie said flatly, and left, closing the door firmly behind her.

Mandy stood, shaking out her robes. “Come on. We’ve got another stop to make.”

Donna was still watching herself as she moved around the bedroom, almost unable to believe that this calm, collected person was the same woman who’d succumbed to such raw emotion just a few moments earlier.

And even more unnerving – the thought that she could be this woman in six more years? Someone who had schooled her emotions to such an extent that it was possible to, metaphorically speaking, put a lid on even the strongest of them and put them away at the back of a closet at will?

“That’s a nice allegory, but it’s more than that, you know.”

Donna’s head snapped up. “You’ve got to stop doing that.”

The spirit shrugged. “I’m supposed to do that, it’s my job. And it’s not just that you trained yourself not to show your feelings; you started to train yourself not to have any. And after today, you’re finally able to stop the training part, because it’s ingrained. There have been times over the past six years when you showed that you had a little chink in your armor – not many, it’s true, but a few nonetheless, but this is the last time. You filled in that gap today.”

“So… that’s it?”

“That’s up to you, don’t you think?”

Donna stood, wearily. “I’m too shattered to think. I just want to go home.”

Mandy smirked. “And I thought we were getting along so well.”

“We’d get along better if you let me go home.”

“Sorry.” She held out her arm. “Let’s go.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Part Five

Keeping the Spirit Part Five (PG)

Mon, 15 Dec 2008 22:29:10 GMT

This part carries a severe mush warning!

Notes, disclaimers etc. in Part One

Part Two
Part Three
Part Four

Originally posted between 17 and 21 December 2007.

Last time …

“It’s not just that you trained yourself not to show your feelings; you started to train yourself not to have any. And after today, you’re finally able to stop the training part, because it’s ingrained. There have been times over the past six years when you showed that you had a little chink in your armor – not many, it’s true, but a few nonetheless, but this is the last time. You filled in that gap today.”

“So… that’s it?”

“That’s up to you, don’t you think?”

Donna stood, wearily. “I’m too shattered to think. I just want to go home.”

Mandy smirked. “And I thought we were getting along so well.”

“We’d get along better if you let me go home.”

“Sorry.” She held out her arm. “Let’s go.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Keeping the Spirit – Part Five

Donna watched a young woman carrying a huge cardboard box struggle through a pair of swing doors at the end of the corridor and walk towards the large cubicle that was positioned outside the office immediately to the right. Donna had been standing by a window, looking out at the Manhattan skyline, wondering exactly where – and when – she was. Now, she pushed away from the wall and followed the woman into the cubicle, where a couple of other women were also working. As Donna got closer, she could see that the cardboard box was full of Christmas decorations. The woman carrying it made for the one empty chair and dumped the box unceremoniously on top of it.

The young woman sitting at the desk opposite peered around her computer screen.

“What’s that?”

“I was down in HR and saw this box of stuff in a corner,” the speaker held up a handful of tinsel. “They said they weren’t going to use it, so... It’s only a few days to Christmas and I thought it was looking a bit bare around here.”

“Well, yes it is,” agreed her colleague, “but we… uh, don’t really do decorations up here.”

“What? It’s nearly Christmas, and all the other departments have -”

“Anna, when did you start working here?” the other woman asked, peering over the top of her glasses.

“In October.”

“So this is your first Christmas here.”

“Yes, but at my last place, we -”

“Yeah. Well, here, we don’t.”

The young woman opposite went back to her typing. “It’s just that our boss isn’t that keen on them. She thinks -”

“I think they’re a bit of a distraction in the workplace.” All the heads turned towards the speaker and Donna wasn’t surprised to see herself emerge from the adjacent office and enter the cubicle. She guessed she must be nearing fifty; her hair was silvering and swept up into an elegant chignon, she was dressed in a classically simple – yet clearly expensive – suit, over which she wore a dark grey coat. The dusky pink scarf draped around her neck was the only spot of color in her whole ensemble.

“And I prefer to keep them out of the office,” she finished, with a pointed look at Anna. She spoke quietly and she was smiling; but the smile didn’t reach her eyes, and her manner, whilst friendly was nonetheless one which showed she would brook no argument or discussion.

But Anna didn’t seem to pick up on that, and blundered on. “Oh, I’m sorry; it’s just that we always decorated at my last job, and I thought - ”

Donna’s expression didn’t change – still smiling, still friendly, yet there was a steely look in her eyes that the younger Donna thought could have turned people into stone.

“Elaine, I have that meeting now,” she said, ignoring Anna’s comment and turning to the young woman who had been typing. “I’ll be out for a few hours, but I’ll need all those reports collated by the time I get back, and copies of the new strategies proposal distributed before the end of the day. Oh, and I need the information on Warrington, Sinden and Bailsford I asked for before you go as well.”

Elaine nodded and smiled wanly. “Of course. But, uh – I was going to go down to the Christmas party in creative, and - ”

An uncomprehending look wrinkled Donna’s brow. “Well, you can do that after, can’t you? I’m sure the party will be going on for a while. I’m going to be working on the new research models over the holidays, and I want to make sure I have all the information on hand.”

“Okay. Sure.”

“Good.” Donna nodded briskly. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” And she left the cubicle and walked towards the elevator at the other end of the corridor.

“Wow,” Anna smiled nervously at the rest of the group. “She’s the life and soul, isn’t she?”

Elaine shook her head. “Don’t be like that. She’s nice most of the time – she’s just very… um… focused. Doesn’t like anything getting in the way of getting the job done.”

“Nice?” echoed the woman with the glasses. “I think she’s a bit of a cold fish, personally. I mean she’s perfectly pleasant, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen her laugh or crack a joke or anything like that – it’s like she just doesn’t get it.”

“Not everyone has your highly developed sense of humor, Karen.”

Anna put the box of decorations under her desk and sat down. “No, I know what you mean. It’s not that she doesn’t think things are funny, it’s that she just doesn’t get it. It’s like she’s had a sense of humor bypass or something.”

“Yes, exactly.” Karen propped her chin on her hand. “But it’s not just that, though. I’ve never seen her get emotional or worked up about anything. Remember when we landed the Vaysey account? I mean the whole place was buzzing; we’d been trying to land them for years and then when it finally happened, she came out of her office, said well done to everybody with that plastic smile on her face, then said she wanted the files for some ‘thing’ or other, and it was back to normal - when every other department head took their team out to celebrate. And then - I don’t know about you, but there are times in this job where I feel like I could hit something. But she just… I don’t know, whatever it is, good, bad or indifferent, she’s there with that fake smile of hers and those… dead eyes. Gives me the willies.”

Elaine again jumped to Donna’s defense. “Well, granted, she’s not very… outgoing, but she’s never been mean or anything like that. She just doesn’t have anything else, I guess.”

Anna looked over at the closed office door. “I can’t think why, though. I mean, she’s an attractive woman. I bet she was a real stunner twenty years ago.”

Elaine shrugged and went back to her typing. “Maybe she just wasn’t interested.”

“Maybe she didn’t meet the right guy,” Karen offered.

“Or maybe she did and it didn’t work out,” Anna chipped in.

“Ah,” Karen said, melodramatically, “a thwarted love affair!”

The three of them burst out laughing at that idea.

“But seriously,” Karen resumed, “you have to wonder how people like her get to where they are now. I mean, she must have started somewhere, right? It’s like people who get to be management forget what it’s like to be doing the grunt work, like us…”

Elaine looked up from her computer. “I Googled her once, you know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. What you said about her being a stunner when she was younger? Completely true. She used to work at the White House, you know; years ago, she was injured in a car bombing in the Middle East when she was out there as part of a delegation.”

“God, how awful.”

“Yeah.” Elaine paused briefly. “She was the top aide to some political whizz-kid in the Bartlet administration.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, so I Googled him as well. You remember when Bartlet got shot?”

“Well, no,” said Anna, deadpan, “I was only four.”

“Now I feel old,” Karen sighed. “But I take it you are aware that one of our former presidents was shot at twenty-or-so years ago?”

“I did go to school, you know.”

“Anyway,” Elaine interrupted, steering the conversation back to its original path, “this guy she worked for, he was the one who almost died that night. And when I looked him up, there was more about her as well. It’s like the two of them were joined at the hip – there’s barely a photo of him from around then that she’s not in somewhere.”

Karen raised her eyebrows. “Maybe there’s something to be said for the ‘thwarted’ thing, then.”

Elaine shook her head. “If there was anything, there was no mention of it.”

Anna snickered. “Maybe it was some torrid, clandestine affair.”

Karen barked a laugh. “Torrid? With her? God, could you imagine it? The guy rolls off her, she’s got that 'Barbie' smile on her face and says ‘well, that was nice.’!”

Anna fairly shrieked with laughter at that.

Elaine cleared her throat softly and pulled herself back into her desk. “Okay, look, I need to get back to work, or I’ll never get out of here in time for Christmas, let alone the party tonight.”

Karen and Anna exchanged a look, then Karen said, “I’ll give you a hand. Do you want me to get started on the reports?”

Relief flooded Elaine’s features. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Mark’s out for the rest of the afternoon, so I’ve got some time…”

“Teamwork. Nice,” came the voice of the spirit from over Donna’s shoulder. Donna continued to watch the three women in the cubicle sharing out the work their boss had left them and cleared her throat. “So that was what you meant when you said… in the cemetery, you said part of me died when Josh …”

Mandy looked at her, steadily. “Yes.”

“So,” Donna said, in a small voice, “how do I fix it?”

“You don’t know? After everything we’ve told you, everything we’ve shown you, you don’t know what your first step should be?”

Donna bit her lip, folded her arms and leaned against the cubicle doorway, watching as the three women went back to work. So she could end up here, like this? Clearly successful, obviously respected for her abilities at least, but… so cold?

“Well, you wanted to prove you could do more, and you did.” Mandy was leaning against the other side of the doorframe. “You got a job here as an analyst a year or so after you left your old job and now you’re up for a seat on the board.”

Donna gestured around the office. “Yeah, but… I mean, surely it must be possible to have both?”

“Both what?”

“Have a good job and… I don’t know, have a life.”

Mandy cocked her head to the side. “I honestly wouldn’t know because I never managed it.”

“Well that’s a big help, thanks.”

“But I’ve seen that it can be done. There was this guy I used to work for – he had a great job, a family that adored him, the people who worked for him loved and respected him…”

Donna sighed. “But President Bartlet’s one in a million.”

“True. But he did it. And,” she continued, with a significant look in Donna’s direction, “he did it with the help of the people he loved and who loved him – not by pushing them away and switching off when things didn’t go the way he thought they should have.”

Donna looked down at the floor, scuffing at the floor with the toe of her sneaker. “I guess I should at least be grateful I don’t go around saying ‘Bah, Humbug!’.”

“Yeah,” Mandy straightened up and walked out of the cubicle. “You’d sound like an idiot.”

“So,” Donna continued, following her guide through the centre of the busy office. “Instead, I end up like the wicked stepmother, not letting Cinderella go to the ball?”

Mandy stopped and turned to face her. “God, no. You’re much worse than that. At least the wicked stepmother was motivated by jealousy and hatred. Not the most pleasant of emotions, it’s true but at least they are emotions. You, on the other hand, just… don’t have any.”

They started walking again. “Just hit me over the head with it, why don’t you?”

Mandy snorted. “It’s why I’m here. It’s why we’ve all been here.”

“To show me that I turn into a bitch that nobody likes?”

“That’s not fair. I’m sure your mother still loves you,” Mandy deadpanned. “And anyway, to be a bitch you have to actually care about something, even if it’s not the same thing everyone else -”

“I swear to God, if you weren’t dead already I’d - ”

“Nah, you wouldn’t. Not with those sneakers anyway.”

Donna stopped. “What?”

“Never mind. Come on, we need to get going. There’s one more thing for you to see here.”

“Where?” Donna took hold of Mandy’s sleeve again, automatically.

“The same place you always go on December twenty-second.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Donna and the spirit were back at the Jewish cemetery where Josh and his family were buried. She was saddened, although of course not surprised, to note that where there had previously been three headstones, now there were four. There were also a couple of weather-beaten wooden benches set among the graves that hadn’t been there before; Donna guessed that perhaps they’d been endowed by family friends after Rachel had passed away. It was another gray, wintry day, and she clutched her arms around herself instinctively, even though she couldn’t feel the cold. She moved across to stand in front of the newest tombstone which was inscribed to Rachel Lyman, the date of her death marked as January 2015.

She looked up to see her older self walking along the gravel path – vaguely registering that it no longer surprised her to be watching herself like this - and walked back to stand at Mandy’s side. “I come here on the same date each year?”

“Yes.”

“But why the twenty-second? I thought he… it happened on the tenth…”

Mandy raised an eyebrow. “It did.”

Donna closed her eyes as she made the connection. “It’s the date I left.” She took a deep breath. “The date I left him.”

“Yes. It’s a nice touch, don’t you think?” Mandy said, her voice laced with sarcasm. “You always make a point of coming back to him on the date you left.”

Donna found it hard to breathe through the knot that had formed in her chest. She couldn’t think, couldn’t concentrate; her mind sluggishly refused to co-operate when she tried to sort through the swathe of mixed-up thoughts and feelings that had invaded it – but eventually, one thing emerged from the fug and became clear.

She had to do – something - to stop this version of her future ever becoming a reality.

Something? The spirit had insisted that Donna knew what to do, but the question now was – would it be enough?

Words she’d spoken and thought often tonight echoed once more around her head –

Josh doesn’t leave people.

- but she did, and she had. And she didn’t know whether he’d be able to forgive her.

Looking up, she saw that the other Donna had reached the row of headstones belonging to the Lyman family. “Hello, Josh,” she said quietly, her voice wavering.

Donna watched her sit down on the bench at the foot of the grave, hot tears once more pricking her eyes at the sound of the affection and the sorrow contained in those two simple words.

Her older self began to talk softly, but Donna didn’t really hear much of what she was saying. She no longer tried to stop her tears, letting them fall unabashedly as she considered the prospect ahead of her. The idea that in some version of her future, she could be left, not only mourning the one man she’d loved with all her heart, but also in some way grieving for the life she hadn’t lived was agonizing – but she didn’t try to fight it. Not now. Instead she let the full force of it wash over her, acknowledging to herself that while it may well have been ‘better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all’, what her future self was facing here was quite possibly worse than that. To have lost the one person in the world who meant everything to her was bad enough – but to have lost him without having been truly his was a tragedy, compounded by the fact that things need not have turned out that way.

Donna had never been especially romantic, but she did believe that there was someone ‘out there’ for everyone. And she knew, without a doubt – had known almost since the moment she’d met him – that she had found her someone, nearly eight years ago. Yet what had she done? She’d tried to ignore it, then tried to deny it, and up until that evening, she’d been trying to forget it… and for what? Because she’d been scared of rejection, scared that if he didn’t want her she’d have to leave him - and well, that was irony right there, wasn’t it? She hadn’t suffered the rejection because she hadn’t put herself out there – and then she’d left him anyway.

But even so, she was his, body and soul; and nothing was going to change that – even death, judging by the scene unfolding before her.

Donna sat down at the other end of the bench, and fished around in her pocket for a crumpled tissue, too preoccupied with her thoughts to notice that the other Donna had finished speaking and was now just sitting quietly, pulling distractedly at the fingers of her gloves. After a few more minutes, she stood up, put a hand into her coat pocket and produced a small, yet perfectly oval pebble, which she proceeded to lay on the headstone. “I have to go now, Josh,” she whispered. “I’ll come back again next year.” Then she kissed her gloved fingertips and laid them over the engraving of his name. “I love you.”

Donna gasped, feeling as though a knife had been plunged into her chest.

Mandy’s voice cut through the white noise buzzing around her head. “Seriously, you’ve got to love the romantic irony of that. You can only tell him how you feel after he’s dead. That’s one for the poets.”

Donna sucked in a breath and stood up. “Don’t you think I know that?” she demanded, incensed. “Don’t you think I’ve been sitting here trying to work out how I can stop this from happening?”

Mandy eyed her impassively. “You know how to stop it.”

“In theory, yes!” Donna threw up her hands as she walked towards her companion. “But somehow, I don’t think that ‘Hi, Josh, I’m sorry I left, and by the way, I love you,’ is going to cut it, is it?”

“Probably not,” Mandy agreed, her eyes alight with mischief. “You could just go over there and jump him, I suppose.”

Donna just stared at her in disbelief. “What?”

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you never thought about it,” Mandy scoffed. “In fact, I know you did, because I caught you looking more than once or twice. And why wouldn’t you? He’s good-looking, he’s got a great body and he’s – uh,” she smiled, suggestively, “full of energy. If you know what I mean.” Her eyes narrowed, slyly. “Although come to think of it, maybe you already know exactly what I - ”

Donna snapped her mouth closed, immediately. “No! No, I don’t!”

“You two really never - ?”

“No! I mean, yes! I mean, we didn’t - ”

“Never?”

“No!”

“Not even once?”

“No!”

“Wow. The pair of you must’ve had more self control than I gave you credit for. I really thought you’d have… you know, at least once.”

“Well, we didn’t.” Donna narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “I thought it was your job to know these things.”

Mandy grinned. “I’m the spirit of the future, not the past.”

“Okay, we’re done talking about this.” Donna sighed, exasperatedly.

“Why?” Mandy said, gleefully. “This is girl-talk. This is fun.”

“Fun for you, maybe. And should you really be talking about… stuff like that here?”

Mandy snorted and waved around an encompassing hand. “Are you crazy? There’s no-one to hear us!”

Donna put her hands on her hips and shot her a meaningful look.

“Oh. Well, point taken, but they still can’t hear us.”

“I know that, but it just feels inapp - ”

Donna noticed a movement out of the corner of her eye and turned her head to see that her older self had moved back to stand at the foot of the grave. And suddenly, it was as though a veil had fallen. The Donna of the future was smiling that serene – plastic - smile again; the traces of emotion that had been evident in her face earlier had vanished and it was as though they had never been.

Donna watched herself turn around and make her way back to the path.

“She… I … never said goodbye.” - was the only thing she could think of to say at that moment.

“No. And that’s odd, don’t you think?”

Donna was about to agree with the spirit – but then the light dawned and she realized it made sense – in a completely nonsensical way. “No, it’s not,” she said, shaking her head. “I never said it the day I left, either.”

“That’s right,” Mandy said encouragingly. “And you still can’t.”

Donna frowned at her. “Wait a minute – why ask me a question when you already know the answer?”

Mandy shrugged. “I’m cute like that.”

“So all that stuff before about me and Josh …” Donna shook her head and turned back to watch her older self walk away along the path, following her retreating figure with her eyes until it was out of sight.

“I’m like a - a robot,” she breathed.

“Well, not quite,” Mandy conceded. “But whatever you had inside that made you you – the empathy, the heart – it’s more or less gone for good, now. This is the one hour a year you allow yourself to remember him and your old life, but even those memories have faded and soon, they’ll disappear altogether. You were so bitter before you left - all you wanted to do was forget Josh and forget the way you felt about him, so you systematically locked away every good memory and feeling you associated with him, because - ”

“Because it was the only way I could bring myself to leave him,” Donna admitted, finally.

“Yes. And after you left, you didn’t want to feel the pain of being in love any more, you didn’t want it to get in the way of the new life you were planning to make for yourself, so you just stopped yourself from feeling any of it. The good parts, too.”

Donna felt herself flush. She knew Mandy was right, but that didn’t mean it was easy for her to hear. She grinned weakly. “Hearing you talk like this is still freaking me out, you know.”

Mandy sat down on the bench. “Deal with it.”

Donna scuffed at a piece of grass. “But…” she looked at her companion, pleadingly. “I can stop this happening, right? I mean, why would Mrs Landingham, and Noah, and Fitz – and you - ” she began to pace backwards and forwards in front of the bench, her voice becoming more and more animated as various ideas began to take hold, “why would you all have turned up if it wasn’t possible to change things?”

Mandy opened her mouth to reply, but it was evident that none was required. She folded her arms, a small smile on her lips as Donna continued to pace in front of her.

“And you said this was only one possible future.” Donna glanced at her briefly, and Mandy merely nodded her confirmation. “And that if I – if Josh ...” Donna stopped and whirled around as a thought occurred to her. “I mean, Tiny Tim didn’t die because Scrooge went back and changed things, and - ”

Mandy threw back her head and laughed. “Seriously, Donna? You have to promise me that I can be a fly on the wall if you ever refer to Josh as Tiny Tim to his face.”

Donna laughed, too, and dropped down onto the bench beside her.

“So,” Mandy said, eventually. “Are you ready to go back?”

“Yes.” Donna frowned. “At least I think so.” Now that it had come to it, she thought that perhaps she needed more time to let everything sink in, more time to decide exactly what it was she was going to do. “It’s just… there’s a lot to think about, you know?”

“There is. But then again, maybe not. You know what you have to do if you want to stop yourself from going down the path that leads to this,” Mandy waved a hand around expansively. “So just… go to him. As for the rest,” she shrugged. “It’ll take care of itself.”

“It’s that simple?”

“Are you kidding me?” Mandy rolled her eyes. “When has anything involving Josh Lyman ever been simple? But it’s a start.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Part Six

Keeping the Spirit Part Six (R)

Mon, 15 Dec 2008 22:25:43 GMT

Notes, disclaimers etc. in Part One

Yes, there's a short 'R' section in this bit. It's me - what did you expect??

Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five

Originally posted between 17 and 21 December 2007.

Last time …

“So,” Mandy said, eventually. “Are you ready to go back?”

“Yes.” Donna frowned. “At least I think so.” Now that it had come to it, she thought that perhaps she needed more time to let everything sink in, more time to decide exactly what it was she was going to do. “It’s just… there’s a lot to think about, you know?”

“There is. But then again, maybe not. You know what you have to do if you want to stop yourself from going down the path that leads to this,” Mandy waved a hand around expansively. “So just… go to him. As for the rest,” she shrugged. “It’ll take care of itself.”

“It’s that simple?”

“Are you kidding me?” Mandy rolled her eyes. “When has anything involving Josh Lyman ever been simple? But it’s a start.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Keeping the Spirit – Part Six

Donna opened her eyes. Then squeezed them shut and opened them again. She sat up slowly and looked cautiously around the dimly lit room until she ascertained that she really was sitting on her sofa in her living room at – she looked at the clock – a little after four on Christmas morning. She reached over to switch on the lamp, flung off the afghan and jumped off the sofa, suddenly full of energy. She started wandering around restlessly, her mind such a jumbled mess of thoughts that she didn’t know where to begin. There was so much to think about, so many things to do… She felt lighter, less weighed down than she had just hours earlier; to tell the truth, it had been a long time since she’d felt that way and she felt almost giddy with the relief of it.

She walked into the kitchen, switched on the light – and stopped, disconcerted to see that the work surface was neat and tidy. The coffee-maker was as she’d left it the previous evening; it hadn’t been used and her mug wasn’t sitting by the sink. She was suddenly assailed by doubt. Had it all been some kind of weird dream? Could she really have imagined all of it – Mrs Landingham, Noah Lyman, Admiral Fitzwallace and… wait. There was absolutely no way she’d have had a dream featuring Mandy Hampton. A nightmare, maybe, but…

And that was uncharitable. In a strange kind of way, Donna had found herself enjoying ‘Mandy’s’ company.

If she’d really even been there at all. Donna sank down onto one of the kitchen chairs and dropped her head into her hands.

What if it had all been a dream? Her emotions over the past few months had been running high, so what if she’d been so overwrought, so full of guilt about leaving her job and leaving Josh - that her subconscious had flipped out and come up with some sort of remorse-induced hallucination? Surely that was as feasible – moreso, even – than the other explanation? But then… she hadn’t known that Josh was planning to go to Texas; she’d had no idea that he might be thinking of leaving his job, so why would she have dreamed about him turning up on Matthew Santos’ doorstep last night? She’d never actually met Congressman Santos’ wife and children, so how – and why – had she been able to picture them so vividly? Why would she conjure up that conversation she’d overheard Josh having with Leo when she’d been on her way to the Washington Inn a few years back? And she knew for sure that she hadn’t seen that look on Josh’s face when he’d watched her reading the inscription in the book he’d given her. There was no doubt in her mind that that was something she’d have remembered.

It occurred to her then that perhaps it didn’t really matter whether the night’s events had been real or all in her mind, because her course of action had to be the same either way. She had to find out if the spirits – real or imagined – were right. And if they were, then she had nothing to lose and a lot to gain - and the only way she could make things worse was by doing nothing.

But if they were wrong… well, she’d have to deal with that, too. It would be difficult, and it would be painful - but then, she’d already done the hard part. Leaving Josh was quite possibly the hardest thing she’d ever done, but if she had to learn to live without him, then perhaps she could at least do it without all of the anger and bitterness she’d been harboring towards him these past few months.

She could finally admit that perhaps she was as much at fault over the situation they’d found themselves in as Josh was. For all the things she’d done for him that were above and beyond her job description, he’d done just as much for her; maybe - given the risks he’d taken to protect the administration and keep her out of jail all those years ago - even more.

Every legitimate question she’d had, he’d answered, because – she smiled fondly at the memory – he liked to, and she liked to let him; every time she’d had a suggestion to make, he’d listened, even if he’d mocked her at the time, or not taken it up. For the first time in months, she was able to acknowledge, without rancor, that the fact she was now able to begin flexing her own political muscles and start to make her own way in this world was due, in large part, to what she’d learned from him.

He wasn’t blame free, of course. No, he had come to take her and all that she did for him for granted – but it wasn’t his fault she’d fallen in love with him and hadn’t wanted to leave him. What CJ had said to her all those months ago may not have been the kindest thing – but it had nonetheless been the truth. Donna had outgrown her job, and would have moved on years before had it not been for Josh.

Josh.

A self-confessed elitist who, despite his frequent complaints about the ignorance and apathy of the electorate had nonetheless spent most of his adult life trying to make things better for those less fortunate than himself. Someone who, beneath the tough exterior he presented to the world was a mass of insecurities and vulnerability and who somehow managed to be both the most infuriating and the most charming man she’d ever known.

Donna chuckled to herself and shook her head; she really did have it bad. The only two people likely to have recognized ‘Bartlet’s Bulldog’ from that description were herself and Josh’s mother!

She leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes and let herself say it at last. “I love him.”

The words felt strange on her lips. She’d known it for a long time, of course; she’d sometimes found the thought, fully formed, in her mind before dismissing it impatiently, but she’d never said it - and for a few seconds, the relief of finally saying the words out loud made her feel light-headed.

She took a deep breath and stood up. Whatever it was she was going to do, it was now or never. She glanced up at the clock on the wall.

Time to freshen up, get changed and – oh, God, just what was she going to do? Maybe ‘Mandy’s’ suggestion hadn’t been such a bad one after all…

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Donna let herself into Josh’s building, made her way to his door and knocked. She listened impatiently; and not hearing anything from inside, knocked again, louder this time.

Again, nothing.

She bit her lip anxiously, trying not to ask herself for the hundredth time whether this was a good idea, and had raised her hand to knock again when she heard feet shuffling towards the door and a sleepy voice grumbling, “Okay, okay… I’m up.”

Donna took a deep breath as the door opened to reveal Josh, in his normal sleepwear of t-shirt and boxers, rubbing his eyes and looking for all the world like a sleepy five year old who hadn’t wanted to get out of bed.

He opened one eye, squinting in the light coming from the hallway. “Donna?”

Her stomach felt like it was doing back flips. She was suddenly acutely aware of him, more than she’d ever been, or allowed herself to be. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body, smell the faint scent that she always associated with him, see the outline of the firm planes of his chest under his t-shirt –

Oh, God…

She smiled and hoped he wouldn’t notice how nervous she was. “Hi.”

Josh stood stock still, just blinking at her groggily. “What ..?”

“Can I come in?” she interrupted hastily, realizing that she needed to stop staring at him or she really would forget her own plan in favor of ‘Mandy’s’ flippant – although probably more pleasurable – suggestion.

He scratched the back of his head. “Uh… yeah,” and stood aside to allow her to enter. For a few seconds, he remained where he was – his hand on the still open door, then he closed it and glanced up at the clock. “It’s… five am,” he yawned. Then his eyes snapped open, his expression suddenly changing to one of concern. “Are you okay?”

Donna couldn’t help smiling gently at that - then took off her coat and laid it across the arm of a chair. “I’m fine.”

“Then,” he frowned, ambling into the room, “what are you doing here?”

“I - ” and then it dawned on her that she had no idea what to say. On the way over here, she’d determined to keep it simple. Tell him how she felt; for once, just tell him the plain, unvarnished truth and hope that the spirits had been right about the way he felt about her. Tell him the truth and – well maybe not the whole truth. Perhaps telling him she’d been haunted wasn’t such a good idea, but the rest of it - that she loved him and wanted to be with him – she could do that.

Couldn’t she?

“I – uh, wanted to…” she began again, and tailed off when she saw the way Josh was looking at her. His expression was guarded, but she could see the hurt lying just below the surface and began to wonder how she could possibly have thought that she would be able to come over here, say what she had to say - and that it would somehow fix everything and enable her to mend all the bridges she’d burned just days ago.

Josh scrubbed a hand over his face. “Okay, look. I had a late flight last night, I’m tired, and you know I don’t function well in the morning before I’ve had coffee.” He walked past her and began to make his way to the kitchen. “You work out what it is you want to say and I’ll …” he sniffed, “be back in a minute.”

Donna watched him go, then looked around the familiar room; at the papers and books that cluttered just about every available surface, at the shirts and suits in dry-cleaning bags hanging from chair-backs… and tried to remember her plan, such as it was.

Right.

The truth.

Mostly.

Josh shuffled back along the hallway, leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms. “So.”

“So,” Donna couldn’t help looking him up and down – and cleared her throat. “I was thinking…”

… thinking maybe you should put some clothes on because I can’t think straight with you standing there half-dressed.

Josh just raised his eyebrows and said nothing. His pose appeared relaxed, but she could see past that typically Josh-like tactic to the defensiveness underneath. Clearly, he wasn’t going to make this easy for her.

“It struck me,” Donna tried again, cautiously, “that there are – advantages – to our situation that neither of us appears to have considered.”

Josh’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “Advantages to… what? I have no earthly idea what you’re talking about.”

Donna cursed herself inwardly. Keep it simple, she kept telling herself, but the eight year old habit of not saying what she really meant as far as Josh was concerned was proving hard to break.

“I meant that because I don’t work for you now -”

Josh pushed himself off the doorframe and walked past her back into the living room.
“You don’t have to remind me of that. And if you’ve come over here at this hour to give me a catalogue of my shortcomings as a boss, then - ”

And she’d said the wrong thing again. She knew Josh as well - if not better - than she knew herself, and she should have known that the only thing he would have heard in either of those sentences were the parts about her not working for him any more. With a heavy sigh, she realized that this was going to be harder than she’d imagined. She must have hurt him more than she’d ever thought possible.

She took a deep breath and looked up into his eyes, wanting nothing more than to erase the wounded look she saw there. “No, Josh,” she said earnestly, taking a couple of steps towards him. “I haven’t come here to do that. I’d never want you to think that I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done for me and I wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“For the way I … did what I did. It was unprofessional of me, and I’m sorry.”

“The way you did what you did,” he repeated impassively.

“Yes. I wasn’t thinking straight and I - ”

“Thinking straight?” Josh threw an arm out to the side, his voice ascending into the higher octaves. “That’s got to be the understatement of the year! You walked out!”

Donna stood her ground. This was what Josh did when he was hurt or upset. He lashed out, he yelled, he blustered… and then he calmed down and worked out how to fix whatever it was that had pissed him off.

“You don’t do that, Donna! You don’t just walk out after -”

“After what?” she shouted back. “I was your assistant. I did my job; I left my job. Okay, so I could have handled the second one better, but…” she heaved a sigh. “Look, I’ve said I’m sorry. “I don’t know what else I can say.”

“An explanation would be good,” he spat sarcastically, turning so that his back was to her.

Donna let out a shaky breath. “Josh, I -”

He held up a hand and Donna could see by the set of his shoulders that he was trying to get himself back under control. Then he turned to face her. His expression was stony – but Donna saw a twitch at the corner of his eye that she knew meant he’d had enough.

“You know what?” he began, with a slight shake of his head. “I don’t want to…” he sighed. “Okay.”

Donna frowned. Clearly, things were anything but okay.

“Josh?”

He threw his hands out to the side. “Okay,” he said irritably, “you’ve said your piece, now I need to get ready for work.”

“Wait!” This wasn’t going at all how she’d hoped. “That’s not…”

“What?”

“… what I came here to say.”

Josh flopped down onto the sofa and scrubbed both hands over his face and through his hair. “Well, do you think you could get on with it, because somewhere back there, I think I lost the will to live.”

Donna felt a sudden lurch at the pit of her stomach. “Don’t say that!” she yelped. “Don’t ever say that!”

Josh stared up at her, all traces of his earlier annoyance vanished. “Donna?” He stood up and took the two or three steps it needed for him to be standing in front of her. “Something’s happened – you’re upset,” he said, quietly. “Tell me and I’ll…”

She shook her head and smiled wanly. “It’s nothing. Well, it’s not nothing, but it’s not what you think.”

Josh’s mouth quirked up at one side. “Well, that makes sense.”

Donna felt as though he must be able to hear her heart thumping in her chest and took a deep breath in an effort to calm her nerves. He was standing so close to her now, close enough for her to be able to feel his body heat although they weren’t touching. Then, with a final reminder to herself that it was now or never, she took one tiny step forward and reached out to take his hand. Josh looked startled – but he didn’t pull away, so Donna put her other hand on top, and began to lightly brush across his knuckles with her thumb.

“What I wanted to say,” she licked her lips and looked down at their joined hands, “was that I just thought that now I’m not your assistant … and if you didn’t object, that is… I could – maybe - do this,” and she reached up and kissed him lingeringly on the side of the mouth. “You know, occasionally.”

She pulled back, keeping her gaze steadily on their hands. Now she’d taken the first step, she found herself unable to meet his eyes in case she’d just made a horrible mistake.

Josh was uncharacteristically silent – but when Donna was finally able to force herself to look back up at him what she saw in his face was not rejection or aversion – just shock.

Then that expression quickly changed to one of confusion as he pursed his lips and scratched the back of his head. “You – uh, you want to do that?”

God, he could be an idiot at times. “Occasionally.”

Or, you know, all the time.

The confused look started to fade. “Really?”

Donna nodded once, slowly. And then, to her delight, she saw the beginnings of one of those know-it-all smirks that half the time made her want to hit him – and the other half made her want to throw herself at him.

“So let me get this straight,” Josh said, the smirk becoming fully blown. “If you could do that - ”

Donna fought back a smile. “Occasionally.”

“- occasionally,” he agreed, with a slight nod, “then presumably, that would mean - because I’m not your boss any more - I could do… this?” And he kissed her full on the mouth, briefly, just the touch of his lips on hers – but it was enough to empty her head for a few seconds. “If you didn’t object?”

“Um,” she said, slightly breathlessly, “yes. I’d be okay with that.”

Josh drew back a little and smiled at her almost shyly as he placed his free hand at her waist. “And maybe even…” he drew their clasped hands up to his chest and bent his head to drop a kiss on her fingers. “Sometimes… this?” he whispered, sliding his arm around her waist to pull her closer as he covered her mouth with his. Donna moaned softly and slid both hands up his chest to clasp them around his neck, unable to suppress a shiver when she felt him run his tongue lightly across her lower lip. She parted her lips beneath his, the jolt of electricity that crackled through her making her feel abruptly lightheaded; and she drew herself as closely to him as she could, thankful that both his arms were now firmly wrapped around her waist because she was suddenly having trouble remembering which way was up.

When they broke apart, they were both a little out of breath. “More often than sometimes, I hope,” Donna managed to say before Josh kissed her again, this time bringing one hand up to the back of her head and tangling it in her hair as he deepened the kiss. She mimicked his earlier action, licking her way along his bottom lip, absorbing his impassioned groan as he dipped his tongue into her mouth to taste her, his lips soft and warm as they moved on hers with almost agonizing slowness. Donna kissed him back with everything she had, touching her tongue to his, exploring his mouth, heady with the taste, the scent, the feel of him… she ran one hand across his shoulder, then down his cotton-clad chest, feeling the taut muscle underneath - and down to bunch up the hem of his shirt, needing to touch him without the fabric in the way.

She slipped her hand beneath the cotton and slid her palm up to stroke his back, feeling his shoulder-blades tense up under her fingers – and suddenly everything changed. What had been slow and warm suddenly became white hot in its intensity as Josh breathed her name against her lips and moved his mouth to her neck. Sweeping her hair aside, he began to kiss his way along the column of her throat, his other hand splayed low on her back pulling her intimately against him. Donna felt herself flush with desire, heard her breath coming in ragged gasps and, clutching at his shoulders, began to walk them the few steps backwards towards the sofa, pulling Josh down with her and quickly hooking her leg around his, desperate to be as close to him as she possibly could. Blindly, she sought his mouth again, drew his bottom lip between her teeth and nipped lightly before crushing her lips fiercely to his as her fingers caressed the nape of his neck. She welcomed the feeling of his weight on top of her pushing her down into the cushions and began to rake her nails up and down his back, delighting in the throaty chuckle he emitted when she trailed a lazy circle around the dip at the base of his spine.

Then Josh shifted slightly so that he was lying half on top of her and pulled back from the kiss, cradling her face in his hands.

“Donna…” he brushed her cheeks with his thumbs.

She opened her eyes to look up into his – and for the first time, let herself see what was right in front of her. It occurred to her to wonder how she’d been so stubbornly blind all these years, but she told herself swiftly that it didn’t matter. What mattered was that the spirits hadn’t been wrong; and the knowledge washed over her in a warm wave of happiness, giving her the courage she needed.

Josh leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. “I – I don’t know what this is.”

“What do you want it to be?” Donna whispered, still trying to catch her breath.

He pulled back, uncertainty lining his features. “I - ”

Donna ran a finger down his cheek, and said softly, “It’s us, Josh. It’s you and it’s me, and it’s whatever we make it. But if it helps you make up your mind…” she took a deep breath. “I love you.”

He gaped at her. “What?”

Donna grinned up at him. “Oh, no. You got that one for free, and if you think - ”

Which was as far as she got, because Josh’s mouth was on hers again and he was kissing her and kissing her and kissing her like he was never going to stop. She abandoned herself to it, to him, feeling him settle more firmly on top of her as one of his hands started to wander up and down her side, then lower, to her thigh and underneath it, pulling her leg more firmly around him, then back up to her waist and round to her stomach under her shirt. She moaned into his mouth at the warmth of his touch, the sensation of his fingers brushing against her skin sending a shiver of anticipation coursing through her veins - and pushed up his shirt impatiently, feeling him shudder as she dragged her fingers slowly along his side. She broke the kiss long enough to pull the shirt up and off over his head, dropping it – somewhere; he could find it later – and buried her face in the crook of his neck, nipping and licking her way along his bare shoulder at the same time as she slid her palms greedily across the smooth skin of his back.

“Donna,” he half groaned, kissing her cheek, her temple, her ear. “We should,” he trailed his lips down her neck, “I mean we need to talk.”

She snaked a hand under the waistband of his boxers and turned her head to nuzzle his cheek, sighing as she inhaled his familiar scent.

Josh groaned again – and pulled her hand out. “Stop it. I can’t focus with you doing that.”

“That was the idea,” she breathed, putting her hand back where it had been at the same time as she began to place open-mouthed kisses up and down the side of his throat, flicking out her tongue to taste his skin. “We can talk after.”

He pushed himself up on his elbows, a cocky grin spreading across his face. “After?”

“After,” she affirmed, looking up at him saucily. “Now take me to bed. There are some… advantages I’d like to consider.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

When Donna woke a couple of hours later, it was to the feeling of a hand stroking gently up and down her arm and warm lips gliding across her bare shoulder. For a split second, she wondered whether she could possibly be dreaming – and opened her eyes hastily, blinking as she took in her surroundings, couched in shadows thrown by the muted sliver of morning light that was coming in through a chink in the curtains.

She captured the traveling hand in her own and raised it to her lips.

“So…” Josh drawled lazily, his breath warm on her neck.

Donna stretched languorously against him, curling her back against the firmness of his chest. “So?”

“Are we going to do that occasionally, too?”

Donna chuckled and rolled onto her back.

“Because,” Josh continued, propping himself up on one elbow, “I am, after all, a man of - ”

Donna put her hand to the back of his neck and pulled him down to her, silencing him in what had rapidly become her favorite way of shutting him up.

Judging from his enthusiastic reaction, Josh didn’t seem to mind.

“You know,” Donna said when she’d gotten her breath back, “I was just thinking that my life would have been a lot simpler – and quieter – if I’d worked out earlier that that was the most efficient way to stop you talking.”

Josh raised an eyebrow. “Goes both ways; maybe if I’d done the same, I wouldn’t have had to listen to so much inane trivia.”

She ran a finger down his chest. “See, you complain about that, but I know you - ” Donna stopped herself just in time. Telling Josh that his father’s ghost had told her that Josh used to talk about her a lot was probably not the best idea.

“Uh,” she cast about for something else to say. “I know you secretly loved it.”

She felt him smile as he nuzzled her cheek. “I did.”

Donna breathed in the scent of his bed-warmed skin, wondering how the hell he could manage to smell so good … and then felt a flush of satisfaction spread through her body as she realized that there was a little of her mixed in there, too. She flicked at his earlobe with her tongue, nibbling it gently, before trailing her lips down the side of his throat.

“Are you going into work today?” she murmured into the crook of his neck.

He didn’t answer immediately. “Josh?”

“Hm? Oh… um, yeah, later. I’m catching up on some important stuff right now - ” He turned his head and had begun to kiss his way around to her mouth when she put a finger to his lips. Josh’s eyes flew open. “What?”

“Apart from the fact that you just referred to me as ‘stuff’?”

He looked serious. “No, I referred to you as important stuff.”

Donna chuckled, throatily. “Seriously though, don’t you have to go in at some point?”

“I guess,” Josh rolled onto his back and gathered her close. “Just for a couple of hours or so.” He kissed the top of her head. “But I’d rather stay here.”

Donna draped her leg across his thigh and snuggled into his side. “We’ll have to get up sometime, though. I mean we’ll be hungry sooner or later.”

He took her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. “I’m hungry now.”

She rolled her eyes. “For food, Josh.”

He snorted. Donna lifted her head from his shoulder to see the lazy smile she’d known would be spreading across his face and couldn’t help reaching up to trace the outline of the dimple closest to her with a fingertip.

Josh’s smile widened, but he didn’t open his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time,” she admitted.

He turned towards her, and she moved her hand to the other side of his face to stroke his cheek gently. “I got them from my mom,” he said, softly.

“Yeah.” Donna felt the breath catch in her throat at the depth of feeling she saw in his eyes. “But you have your father’s smile.”

“So I’m told.” A look of surprise crossed his face briefly. “But you never - ”

“Uh - ” Donna spluttered. “I think she told me that once – your mom. We used to talk sometimes.”

“Oh.”

She tucked her head back under Josh’s chin and laid her hand on his chest. They lay there quietly for a while, Donna content just to feel his strong arms around her and to listen to the beating of his heart and his rhythmic, even breathing. Silently, she thanked the spirits who had opened her eyes and guided her here, and vowed once again to do her utmost to make sure that she woke like this every day for as long into the future as possible.

After a few minutes, however, Donna felt him drumming his fingertips lightly on her arm, and looked up to see him staring ahead intently, a deep frown creasing his forehead.

“What’s wrong?”

Josh sat up and scrubbed a hand through his hair, turning to look down at her.

“What happens now?” he asked, quietly. “Are you - are you going to come back?”

Donna hadn’t realized quite how much she’d been dreading this conversation. Or how hard she’d been wishing she could avoid it. But in the spirit of the night’s lessons, she knew there were some things that had to be said, and that it was probably better done sooner rather than later. So she propped herself up on the pillows and drew the bedcovers up under her arms. “I can’t, Josh. Especially not now… not after,” she indicated the bed with an upturned palm.

Josh rubbed the corner of his eye. “We can work something out – I just… I don’t want - ”

“Josh.” She scooted closer to him, took his face between her palms and looked into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.” She kissed his forehead. “Not now,” his temple, “not ever,” his eyelids. “I’m here to stay - if you want me.”

“If I ..?” His voice cracked and he swallowed hard. “But - you left.”

“I left the job, Josh.” Donna took his hand, lacing her fingers with his. “And yes, part of me wanted to leave you, too. I was so hurt when I got back from Germany,” she felt a flush beginning to creep across her cheeks and forced herself to look up at him. “I’d let myself think, just for a little while, that your being there meant something - ”

He leaned in to brush her lips with his. “It did.”

“But when I got back, and things were no different to before, I – I thought I was wrong, and I was so angry. Angry with myself for being stupid enough to think that you could possibly feel same way about me that I felt about you, and angry with you for – I don’t know, getting my hopes up. And,” she took a deep breath and licked her suddenly dry lips. “I decided I had to get away. It was the only way I was ever going to be able to get over you – and being angry with you was the only way I could bring myself to actually leave.”

Josh pulled her across his lap and buried his face in her hair. “God – we’ve been so stupid.”

She held him tightly. “Yes. Well, maybe not me so much…”

He sighed and pulled back to look at her, tenderly brushing the hair back from her face.

“I think we have to share the blame on this one. Because I didn’t think you – felt that way about me. If you didn’t want me, it was okay; nothing else mattered to me except being sure that you were alright.”

Tears pricked at her eyes and Josh shot her a warning look. “Donna, don’t get all -”

But she didn’t let him say any more, crushing her lips to his and kissing him as passionately as she knew how. From her position across his lap, she managed to push him backwards onto the mattress, settling herself on top of him as she slid her tongue into the warm recesses of his mouth.

He groaned and tangled a hand in her hair, wrapping his other arm firmly around her waist.

Reluctantly, Donna broke the kiss, panting heavily. “You remember the last time you told me not to get all emotional?”

Josh looked at her intently, his breathing as labored as hers. “I do.”

“I wanted to do that then, too.”

The searing look in his eyes set her pulse racing. “Remind me to buy you books more often,” he growled, before flipping her onto her back to make love to her again.

The first time, they’d been desperate, frantic, brought quickly to a fever pitch by years of waiting and wanting, neither of them able to hold out very long before surrendering to the scorching heat between them - but this… this was slow and intense. Donna gave herself up to the dual assault of Josh’s mouth and hands, the sensations he was evoking in her making her gasp his name as she writhed beneath him. His hands moved knowingly over her body, his lips tracing paths of fire across her skin before returning to her mouth to begin the process over again… And when he was moving rhythmically inside her, she caressed him wherever she could reach, her hands clutching at his shoulders as she arched up to meet him, at the strong muscles in his back as they flexed under her fingers.

Just before she lost the ability to form any coherent thought whatsoever, Donna slid a hand to the back of Josh’s neck, pulling him to her so that she could press her lips to his in a fervent kiss. The I love you she whispered against his mouth was the last thing she said for some considerable time.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Finally spent and sated, they lay together, limbs entwined, mouths meeting over and over in a series of lazy kisses when Josh said quietly, “I love you, too, you know. I should have – I didn’t say it before and I should have.”

Donna felt as though her insides had turned to jelly. It was one thing for her to have had confirmation of what the spirits had told her about Josh’s feelings for her. It was quite another to hear those words coming from his own lips.

She touched her forehead to his and curled her fingers around the back of his neck, unable to do anything but smile because she didn’t trust her voice not to quiver if she tried to speak.

Josh dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose and then settled his head on her chest, one arm draped across her waist. Donna feathered her fingers idly through his hair, thinking back to their earlier conversation. She couldn’t return to her old job, of that much she was certain; and in any case, if what the Spirit of Christmas Present had shown her was true, it was quite possible that Josh might not be working at the White House much longer anyway. She supposed she should probably let him tell her his plans in his own time, but, as she’d learned to her cost, waiting for him to act wasn’t always the best option.

“Josh?” she began, hesitantly.

“Hm?”

“Are you going to do it?”

He didn’t move his head from where it was pillowed on her chest. “Do what?”

“Run Congressman Santos’ campaign?”

He pushed himself up. “How did you know about that?” he said quickly, clearly a little startled.

Donna kept her expression neutral. “I just… you know, heard something.”

Josh narrowed his eyes a little suspiciously, but then his face relaxed and he shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. I don’t know whether he’s going to run. I don’t think he will. I -”

“But,” Donna picked nervously at the sheet. “You would, if he asked you to?”

Josh sat up and leaned back against the headboard. “I – yeah, maybe. He’s a good man, Donna. I think he’s the real deal and God knows there are few enough of those around these days. And the thought of all those years of hard work being just - thrown away is …” he pursed his lips and puffed out a breath. “And I think it’s what Leo wants.”

She looked at him earnestly. “What do you want?”

He touched his lips to her shoulder. “Apart from you?”

“Josh.” She fought back a smile. Keeping herself on track was incredibly difficult when he was being sweet.

“I really don’t know.” He rubbed a hand over his face, leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling. Then he asked, “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah.” Josh looked down and took her hand. “If he runs and if I - would you…?”

Donna had suspected this was coming. “Go with you?”

Josh nodded, still not looking at her. “Yes.”

Donna cleared her throat. “I don’t know if that would be a good idea,” she said carefully.

“But - ”

“I mean, for years we didn’t… uh… because you were my boss and it would have been inappropriate. And how would it look if you hired me now we’re… uh... ”

He turned towards her, one eyebrow raised. “You have such a way with words.”

“I’m serious!”

“So am I,” he said earnestly. “What does it matter what people think? And anyway, you think my being your boss was the only reason we didn’t ..?”

“Now who’s the articulate one?”

“Donna -”

“Okay, okay… but what other reason was there?”

Josh’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, how about the fact that I had no idea you wanted me and was absolutely terrified that you’d laugh if I ever said anything.”

“Josh, I’ve always laughed at you,” Donna said, deadpan. “Somebody had to.”

“Yeah,” his mouth quirked up at the side. “But I didn’t particularly want to have to go into the witness protection program after you’d turned me down.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “You’re serious,” she breathed.

“Well, not about the witness protection program, obviously, but about the other? Yes.”

“But Josh -”

“I didn’t want to ruin what we had, Donna,” he said softly, looking back down at their hands, still clasped together on top of the covers. “It wasn’t about your being the best assistant I’ve ever had – although you were, it’s -” he ran his other hand through his hair, “ - you were important to me and if I’d… and you didn’t…” he sighed, “I just couldn’t risk losing you.”

Donna was touched by his admission. “Josh…”

“But now…” he looked up, an almost boyish eagerness animating his features. “We can do this, Donna, I know we can. Come work with me and help me get a president elected. Again.”

“I don’t know…”

“Think about it,” he persisted, and damn him, she knew he could tell she was wavering. “You said you wanted to do more. What ‘more’ could there possibly be than this? You can help. Be there at the start of something.”

She bit her lip. Josh’s enthusiasm was infectious and she had to admit she was more than tempted – but she still wasn’t convinced that working with Josh and sleeping with him was -

Wait.

Something he’d said suddenly registered in her brain. “Hang on,” she said, a small frown creasing her brow. “Work … with you?”

“Yes.”

“You said,” Donna repeated slowly, “come and work with you.”

“Yes.”

“Not for you.”

“No.”

“Because there’s a difference.”

He smiled complacently. “I know there is.”

“So I wouldn’t be - ”

“Donna,” Josh moved closer to her. “If it happens, it won’t be like before. Not at first, anyway. It’d be a small operation, just a few staff and everyone would have to pitch in, including me. I can’t guarantee that there wouldn’t be times I’d be telling you what to do; at the end of the day, I’d be running things – if he decides to run at all, that is. But you’d have input. You’d have a chance to work on your own projects, have your own area of responsibility… isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yes, but…”

Josh grinned suddenly, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “You might have to sell your car and sleep on the floor, though.”

Donna elbowed him gently in the ribs. “That’d make a change.”

“Yeah, but at least this time you won’t have to dump your boyfriend first.”

“True,” she snuggled back against his chest. “I think I’ll keep you around for a while.”

Josh put his arms around her waist and pulled her tightly against him. “So - you’ll come?”

Donna was silent for a few seconds. This was what she’d wanted all along – the chance to spread her professional wings, and even more importantly than that, Josh was offering it to her. The last shred of her resistance crumbled and she nodded. “If he runs.”

His sigh of relief warmed the back of her neck. “But I’ll have to find something to do in the meantime. My rent won’t pay itself, you know.”

She didn’t need to look at him to know he was grinning. “I know where there’s a temp job going - ”

She turned on to her stomach and propped herself up on her forearms. “Swear to God - do you ever give up?”

“No. I’m indefatigable.” He leaned back against the pillows and folded his arms behind his head.

“Oh, you’re…” Donna was momentarily distracted by the way the muscles in his chest and upper arms flexed as he stretched. “… something alright. You know, that’s the first time I’ve ever had a job interview in bed.”

He smirked down at her. “And the last, I’d hope.”

She arched a brow, working hard to suppress a smile. “Well, I got fired a lot in my last job, so who knows?”

Josh chuckled. “Yeah, but I hear you’re impervious.”

That smug grin really was proving too much for her. “Not to some things,” she muttered, reaching up to touch her lips to his. Josh groaned softly, slid them both down onto the mattress, and pulled Donna on top of him, responding eagerly as she deepened the kiss.

When they eventually came up for air, he held her close, one hand resting firmly on the small of her back while he combed his fingers through her hair with the other.

He turned his head and looked at the clock. “So - what are your plans for today?”

“I – didn’t really have any. I wasn’t feeling particularly festive after … you know,” she shrugged. “But I’m going home tomorrow evening – just for a couple of days.”

“Well,” he said huskily, pulling her down for another kiss, “we’d better make the most of today, then.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

“I thought you had to work,” Donna said a little later, settling herself into Josh’s side and running a hand idly across his chest.

He sighed. “I do. But,” he hesitated, scratching the back of his head. “You’ll stick around, right?” Donna nodded, touched that he felt he had to ask. “I thought maybe once I’m done, we could grab something to eat and then - ” he stopped, frowning.

“What?”

“I have absolutely no idea. What do you usually do on Christmas Day?”

Donna laughed. “Usually? Eat too much, drink too much and watch too much TV.”

“Ah. I can do that.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Apart from the drinking too much, obviously.”

“Don’t start – you’re not much better.”

“I can hold more than a couple of beers,” she protested indignantly, pulling the sheet around her as she sat up.

“Yeah - one more.”

“See, a gentleman wouldn’t have brought that up.”

Josh grinned wolfishly and pulled her back down. “When did I ever claim to be a gentleman?”

Donna didn’t get a chance to even think of a reply to that, winding her arms around his neck as his mouth, hot, demanding, found hers once more.

Breathing heavily, she kissed and nipped her way along his jawline, his stubble rasping softly against her cheek as she nuzzled his ear; then she pressed open-mouthed kisses down the side of his throat before finally burying her face in the crook of his neck and hugging him tightly.

“Josh?” she murmured against his skin.

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

He pulled back to look at her, surprised. “For what?”

“I don’t know… for taking me back, I guess. Again.”

“Donna,” he breathed, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand, “I could never have done anything else. Thank you - for coming back.”

She felt her breath catch in her throat. The look in his eyes was utterly captivating and Donna realized she hadn’t seen him look so happy for quite some time. She nestled into his side and laid her head on his chest, feeling his arm come around her shoulder and his cheek come to rest on the top of her head.

Sighing contentedly, she couldn’t help but wonder at the change that had taken place in her life in the last few hours, at how different things were now to the way they’d been not twenty-four hours earlier. Yesterday morning she’d woken alone, angry and miserable – angry with herself for loving a man she had believed would never love her, miserable because it hurt so much and so desperate to be rid of the pain that she had spent months forcing herself to resent him, to forget the warmth and friendship she’d found with him over the past eight years.

But thanks to – well, either her own overactive imagination, or an experience so profoundly strange that she didn’t think she’d ever quite be able to believe it – just a day later, she was here, in his arms, wanted, loved… and happier than she’d been in a long time.

Whatever had happened, she promised again not to forget what the spirits – or her own subconscious - had taught her. Smiling to herself, she remembered how Scrooge had learned his lesson and determined to keep the spirit of Christmas every day in his heart. Well, Donna had learned her lesson, too. And whilst she wasn’t about to run through the streets of Washington DC yelling, “God bless us, every one!” at the top of her voice, she was nonetheless determined to listen to her heart from now on – to listen and to make the most of the chance she’d been given.

Wincing inwardly at the horrible cliché, she nonetheless told herself that today really was going to be the first day of the rest of her life. Today was –

“Josh,” she said, excitedly. “It’s Christmas Day.”

“You’re just remembering that now?”

“No.” She rolled her eyes. “I just… I mean it’s just sinking in. It’s Christmas - ”

“Yes,” he dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose and scrambled his way to the edge of the bed. “And that reminds me…”

He stood up, completely naked – and Donna forgot what she’d been about to say. She just watched him walk across the room, pick up a brightly wrapped box from the top of the dresser and toss it over to her.

She realized she was staring and shook herself out of her stupor just in time to catch it.

“Merry Christmas,” Josh grinned, climbing back into bed.

Donna put the package down beside her and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you. I wasn’t expecting - I’m sorry,” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I didn’t bring you anything.”

He tucked his hand under her chin and raised her mouth to his, kissing her until she was breathless.

“Oh, yes,” he said softly when they broke apart. “You did.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Epilogue.

December 2006.

Donna climbed down off the stepstool and stood back to admire her handiwork. She had always loved this time of year; as a child, decorating the house for Christmas had been the real start of the festivities, and it had been that way for her ever since. Even though she hadn’t often been able to make it home in time to trim the tree in recent years, she nonetheless made a point of putting one up in her apartment and enjoyed decorating it, even it if was just for herself.

She’d broken with that tradition just once – last year. For her, Christmas had always been about love and hope – regardless of whether one celebrated the religious aspects of the festival or not, and last Christmas she’d been singularly bereft of both those things.

But now, standing in the middle of their living room, looking around at the glowing lights and glittering garlands, she felt a warm glow spreading through her body and a corresponding smile spreading across her face from ear to ear. Okay, so maybe the tree was somewhat on the large side; it practically reached the ceiling and was a little wider than was perhaps desirable for a room this size, but still, she thought it looked good nestled in the corner. A couple of days ago, she’d gone shopping for a few new decorations for her Christmas tree and ended up with enough baubles, ornaments, swathes of tinsel and sets of lights to trim a tree twice the size of the one she had. So rather than waste any of it, she’d gone out earlier and picked out a new tree as well … and three hours later, here it was, decked out with all the new adornments, the lights twinkling softly, a silver star fixed firmly at the top, a colorful fabric skirt depicting santas and snowmen at the bottom. She’d put up garlands shimmering with red and gold, hung up some more lights around the room, put some in the window, and had fixed an evergreen wreath to the apartment door.

The sofa was covered in empty boxes and discarded cellophane; there were more boxes, plastic bags and lumps of cardboard packaging on the floor and the coffee-table had practically disappeared under the weight of the fresh holly and mistletoe she’d purchased earlier when buying the tree.

She shrugged. So what if she’d gone a little over the top? The apartment looked festive, warm and inviting – homey, even - and that thought made her feel ridiculously happy.

Donna had just started to think about tidying up, when she heard a key in the lock and she turned around just in time to see Josh drop his backpack on the floor and drape his coat over the arm of the sofa.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Donna smiled and leaned in to kiss him hello; his lips were about to meet hers when he stopped suddenly and pulled back.

“Whoa.” His eyes widened in surprise as he looked around the room. “Did Santa go a little overboard on the egg-nog?”

Donna frowned as Josh dropped his arms from around her waist, put one hand on his hip and moved to stand in front of the tree. “Seriously. This place looks like it was decorated by elves on crack.”

“Oh, shut up.” She fought to keep a straight face. “I just like to get into the spirit of the thing, that’s all.”

“Well, you’ve done that, alright,” he turned and gestured vaguely to the rest of the lights she’d hung around the room. “I mean, have you hotwired the national grid or something?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I hardly think a few Christmas lights are going to spark an energy crisis.”

“A few?” Josh flopped down onto the sofa. “There are more lights in here than in Times - ow!” - he jumped up quickly and, turning to scrabble around amongst the paper and bags he’d sat on, pulled out a couple of sprigs of holly.

Donna couldn’t help laughing. “Sorry.”

“You’re really not.” He half-scowled at her as he swept the debris onto the floor and sat down again, grabbing her hand so that he could pull her down next to him.

Donna shook her head, still laughing. “You’re right, I’m not.”

He looked pained. “And you say you love me.”

She sobered and ruffled his hair. “I do.”

Josh just smiled and kissed her.

“So,” he said, afterwards, looking around once more. “You’ve been busy.”

“I have.” She frowned suddenly as it occurred to her that perhaps Josh simply didn’t like what she’d done to his living room. “This… it’s okay, isn’t it? I know it’s not your holiday - you said it was alright to decorate; but if you don’t like it – if you want me to get rid of it, then I’ll - ”

He looked at her, uncomprehending, for a couple of seconds – then pulled her back into his side and put an arm around her shoulders. “Nah,” he sniffed, “it’s fine. It’s… festive. And anyway, it’s your home, too.” Donna felt the breath catch in her throat at the simple sincerity of his words - and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

“But I’m telling you now, the reindeer have to sleep outside.”

Donna rolled her eyes. That was her man - inexpressibly sweet one minute and completely infuriating the next. She nudged him in the ribs. “Bah, humbug!”

“You said it, Mrs Scrooge.”

“Hm. Well I didn’t decorate much last year, so now I’m making up for it.”

Josh sniggered. “And covering about the next ten years by the looks of it.”

“You going to snark me every one of them?”

“Absolutely.”

She sighed theatrically. “Well, that was predictable.”

Josh chuckled and started to stroke his fingers gently across her shoulder and up and down her upper arm.

“So…” he said casually, a minute or two later. “I’m taking a couple of days off over Christmas.”

Donna stared at him, open-mouthed. “You’re… what?”

“I asked the President-elect for a couple of days - ”

“Okay - ” she held up a hand and shook her head. “Hang on. There was just this weird - buzzing in my ears, but I could have sworn you said you’d asked for some time off.”

He grinned, smugly. “I did.”

“Josh – we just went on vacation, like, a month ago.”

“I remember. I was there.”

“But … are you sure? I mean, you’ve always worked Christmas.”

“I never had a reason not to, before,” he said, looking at her intently.

Those few words, spoken so softly and accompanied by the look of unadulterated affection on his face were enough to take Donna’s breath away and temporarily rob her of the power of speech. Instead, she just laid her head on his shoulder, reached for his hand and laced their fingers together.

“So,” she continued, once she felt she could trust her voice again. “You’ll be home, Christmas Day?”

Josh nodded. “And the day after. You know, barring national emergencies or the start of World War Three.” He rested his cheek on her hair. “I just thought… I know Christmas is important to you and I - ” he cleared his throat, “I wanted to share it with you. I mean, I know we’ve spent Christmas together before … but this is different. So I - ” He turned his head to look at her – and frowned. “What?”

Donna shook her head, smiling. “Nothing,” she whispered, her eyes locked with his. “I’m just… happy.”

He grinned back at her, his eyes shining with delight as he leaned in to kiss her – but Donna forestalled him, reaching forward to pick up a piece of mistletoe from the coffee-table. She held it above their heads and looked at him expectantly.

Josh glanced up, his lips quirked into a half-smile. “You think we need that?”

“It’s tradition, Josh.”

He brushed her mouth with his. “I like traditions.”

“Traditions are fun,” she agreed throatily.

“Hm.” He kissed her again. “I think I’m especially fond of the new one you started last year.”

“And that would be?” she dropped the mistletoe and slid her hand to the nape of his neck as he pulled her closer.

“The one where you seduce me at five o’clock on Christmas morning.”

Donna looked up at him from beneath her lashes, her lips curved into a seductive pout. “I have to wait until then?”

He smirked at her. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to get into the spirit a little early.”

“No,” she whispered, her gaze dipping to his mouth. “I don’t think it would hurt at all.”

End.

Carrying the Card (G)

Mon, 15 Dec 2008 22:12:32 GMT

Here’s another little something written for ww_renaissance, where this week, we’ve been watching The Crackpots and These Women.

This is all christinekh’s and zinke’s fault. They made me get up off my sick-bed *cough* and write this – just because I said that I didn’t think Josh would have actually been allowed to return his NSC card, and that in my head, Leo would have given it back to him.

Usual disclaimers - these guys ain't mine, they're Aaron's.

Originally posted 25 October 2007

Carrying the Card

“You wanted to see me?”

Leo looked up from the briefing book he’d been reading to see Josh hovering in the doorway. “Yeah. Close the door, would you?”

He registered the look of mild surprise on the younger man’s face before Josh turned, did as he’d been asked and then walked into the room.

Leo gestured to a chair with one hand while he opened a drawer with the other and pulled out a small envelope. He set it carefully on the desk in front of him, then leaned back and pulled off his glasses. “How’s it going in there?”

Josh scrubbed a hand through his hair and slumped down in a chair on the other side of the desk. “Well, Toby hasn’t killed Sam yet, but it’s early, so there’s still time.” He frowned. “And Mandy keeps taking off her shoe and waving it around, so -” he cleared his throat. “Yeah, we’re fine.”

She’s doing what? Leo frowned at him for a few seconds, then decided he was probably better off not making any further enquiries about that. “Okay. Look.” He picked up the envelope and took out the contents. “About the thing the other night. I’m sorry, Josh,” he said, holding up the small, plastic card Josh had been given by the NSC. “But you can’t give this back.”

Josh’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Leo, I – I don’t - ”

Leo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. God, this was difficult. Not that he’d expected it to be otherwise; he knew how hard this was for Josh to accept, but there were some things about these jobs that weren’t negotiable.

“You know you can’t, Josh,” he persisted, not unkindly. “It comes with the territory. This stuff - it’s down to national security and when we’re talking about the NSC and the Secret Service, well if an emergency situation like that ever arose, even the President would have to do what they told him to.” He paused. “And I know it’s no consolation, but he hates the idea of that as much as you do. Hell,” he smiled briefly, “I think they’ll have to carry him onto the plane if it ever comes to it.”

Josh managed a half-hearted grin at that, but he said nothing. Leo could see that he was struggling to keep the distaste – and the disappointment – from his face; but he knew - he knew that the acceptance of this small piece of plastic and everything it represented was completely contrary to everything Josh believed in and all that he was.

Leo knew that Josh carried guilt around with him in the same way that Jacob Marley carried around his chains.

He held out the card. “You’re going to be sitting in this chair one of these days, Josh – and when that time comes, there are going to be things …”

Josh sniffed. “Yeah,” and leaned forward to take it, turning it over in his fingers as he sat back in his chair. Leo breathed an inward sigh of relief. He’d known that Josh would see sense and that he’d take the card back if for no other reason than that he’d asked him to… yet he couldn’t help feeling proud of this man, who would rather be with his friends and family in the event of a disaster than be assured of his own safety.

Josh stared at the card impassively, then he sat forward and reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. “Okay,” he said, as he stuffed the card inside without giving it another glance.

“Okay,” Leo said, putting on his glasses and pulling the briefing book back towards him.

Josh stood and began to make his way to the door.

“Josh?”

“Hm?”

“With any luck, you’ll never need to use it.”

Josh turned and looked him directly in the eye. “I hope not.”

End.