Parry and Thrust
Wow, I'm nervous. Josh and I finally decided to get together at his place when I got back into town. I've been here a hundred times before. I know his home nearly as well as I know my own. I've never been nervous walking into his condo before. But this time is different. We're going to talk more about what's happening between us. Josh and I were never good at talking about this thing. It has taken me all this time just to tell him how I felt about him. It was both harder and easier than I thought it was going to be. The entire time I was
talking to him I was worried that I was ruining that amazing dynamic between us—or what had, at one time, been an amazing dynamic. But once I started talking I couldn't stop. I had this sudden need to express myself. My sister, Vie, used to call it verbal vomit.
And then there was what will forever be referred to as the Thursday Night Conversation. After everything, Josh still told me that he loved me. But he still doesn't know what he wants. He still doesn't know if he wants a
relationship. I don't know if I'll ever feel that way about him again. I feel like I'm beating this whole thing to death. Neither one of us are sure where it's going and neither one of us are sure that we'll be able to get back to a place where an actual relationship is a possibility. Maybe we just waited too long. Maybe the time has passed and now is our opportunity to salvage a friendship out of this whole mess.
And then he answered the door. When I haven't seen him, even for a few days, it's easy to forget a little what it's like to look at him. He's beautiful. He'd hate it if I told him that. "Hi." He's using that voice again. That low and sultry, makes me want to pin him to a wall, voice.
"Hey." I have to touch him. Just once. I step into his entryway and he pushes the door closed behind me. I turn to face him and whisper, "Forgive me," before I step into him. As if he knows, he wraps an arm around my waist, hand closing securely over my ribs, and cups the back of my head in his free hand. My arms are wrapped haphazardly around him, trying to gain as much purchase as possible without making this inappropriate.
~*~
She wants me to forgive her for this? It's been a long time since we've held each other. I don't ever remember not hugging Donna. When she came to me she needed that kind of reassurance. Out of that was born the kind of relationship where we hugged and touched and were generally rather free with our affections. She told me once about a study she read that said that women required a certain amount of touches everyday. Ever since then I've tried to make an effort to touch her at least once. Boundaries there were, of course, but we always seemed more—tactile—than the others.
She's warm and soft, pressed up against me. I can't resist pressing a kiss against her hair line. I can feel her heart beating against my chest. I don't think it's possible for us to be any closer together than we are right now. We're pressed together from chest to thigh and it just feels...right. How on earth could she ever ask me to forgive her for something this perfect?
I want to kiss her so badly right now. I seem to be fighting that urge a lot lately. But I know, judging by her mood and mine, and the lack of physical closeness here of late, that a kiss would just lead to me taking her to bed. And, despite the fact that sex may very well just clear this whole thing up—I don't think that's the best course of action. But because I can't resist her when she's like this, I press another kiss to her hairline, one to her temple and then drop a kiss on her shoulder before I release her.
Her skin, what I can see of it, is flushed slightly pink. Yes, a kiss would only have led to one place. And even though I'd like nothing more than bury myself between her thighs, we really need to talk. She looks into my eyes, looks for all the world like she's about to kiss me. Oh no. "Thanks for coming." There. Spell broken.
She only looks a little disappointed. "I'm glad we're doing this." She flushes a little. "Talking, I mean."
"I am too." I nod toward the living room, offering a silent invitation. She takes it, preceding me into the room.
~*~
I sit down and wait. Josh sits in the arm chair next to the couch, where I'm sitting. He's looking at me, softly, expectantly. It's nice and sweet but, I can't take this anymore. "Who in the hell are we, Josh?" Wow, that came out a lot louder than I intended.
"What?" He sounds slightly panicked. Of course, I did just completely change the tone of the entire conversation.
"I mean, who are we? Because these two people we've been for the last week are not the Josh Lyman and Donna Moss that we used to be. There used to be banter and teasing and snarking…there used to be some sort of chemistry! Then, I pour my heart out to you and all of a sudden we're Mr. and Mrs. Cleaver, just floating along, being polite, trying to figure out what the fuck we're supposed to do with our lives and it's not working, Josh! It's just not working!"
"This is definitely not what I had in mind when I said that we should talk some more."
"And that's another thing. When did you turn into Mr. In-Touch-With-His-Feelings? What happened to that brash, conceited, egotistical, do-no-wrong, steam-rolling, bull dog that I fell in love with? What happened to
that strong, hard-headed, yells my name at the top of his lungs, struts and swaggers, insults me but makes my point, Josh Senator-Shove-Your-Legislative-Agenda-Up-Your-Ass Lyman?"
"Me?" He says, his voice rising to that fevered pitch it gets when he's being challenged. "What happened to my happy, optimistic, full of useless arcane knowledge, girl on a budget, wake me up in the mornings assistant?"
"I grew up, Joshua! I'm still happy. I'm relatively optimistic. What I'm full of, Joshua, is not useless, arcane knowledge, but trivia that is useful in a wide variety of situations. I'm not on such a budget anymore because I don't work for the federal government. I actually got to negotiate salary, and I did damn well for myself! And, I'm not your assistant anymore! I haven't been your assistant since CJ so helpfully pointed out that I needed to get myself the hell away from you!" Oh, this feels good. This is therapeutic. Cleansing, even.
"I don't know how to work with this new stuff, Donna! Our entire relationship was based on the fact that I was your boss and you were my assistant. Now, suddenly we're supposed to be equals and I'm supposed to know how to handle it?" Good, he's up and pacing now. Yelling. Running his hands through his hair. This
Josh I know how to deal with.
"Yeah, well, I don't know how to handle it either! You're supposed to be giving me hell, insulting the men that I date, asking me to bring you coffee and turning down my very creative requests for a raise. But now, all of the sudden, I'm not even in the same room with supposed to bring you coffee and I don't need a raise! You're supposed to know more than me and explain the intricacies of the workings of the federal government to me. I'm not supposed to know about message and demographics and what polls well. But damn it, Josh, I do know about all of those things and you needed someone who does. I specialized, by God, and I did it quick, fast and in a hurry. And, I'll be damned, but I'm good at it. I have a real feel for this part of the process. I'm actually good at campaigning. Thanks in no small part to you!" I'm standing now and we're toe to toe.
"You're right, Donna! You are good at what you do. You don't need me anymore. How do you think I feel about that? You've always needed me and now you don't and I'm just supposed to go on and not miss that feeling?" He's still yelling. It takes the sting of the sensitivity out of his words. Of course, it also makes him incredibly hot. So I'm kissing him before I even realize that I've formed my rebuttal.
It's like the rest of the fight come out in this kiss. He yells, and then I yell, then him, then me. It's all parry and thrust and it's hot and wet and delicious. His hands are wrapped in my hair and my hands are on his chest, ready to push him away when this gets to be too much. As far as kisses go, it's more a power struggle than anything else. The fight is a draw when we break apart both gasping for air. Of course, the forcefulness of it all is softened by the fact that our foreheads are pressed together and my eyes are closed. His breath is hot and harsh on my face, my breathing is ragged. I grab the lapels of his suit to steady myself when I pull my face away from him.
~*~
That's the hottest thing that's ever happened to me in my life and I'm over forty. I definitely like grown-up Donna because this woman looking at me, chest heaving and eyes almost black from what I hope is arousal, is the sexiest woman I've ever had the pleasure to touch. "Wow." Is all I can think to say.
"Yeah, wow." She returns. I am so the man. "We so should have done that four years ago. Think how much that would have solved. I mean, I could have gotten my raise."
You mean that's all it took to get back the banter? She's right…we should have done this a long time ago. Like after the MS thing when everything started to fall apart. "We should have done that the night we won the election. Then I would have known I couldn't hire you as my assistant."
"What?" She sounds a little hurt.
"If I would have known that we'd be like that, I never would have had you assigned to me. If I had known that we were that good together I would have made damn sure we were able to be together."
"Oh, I don't know, Josh. Maybe we wouldn't have been that good if it wasn't for the last seven years. Pent up sexual frustration has a way of manifesting itself when it's at its peak."
"Donna, I swear to you I peaked at least a thousand times during the last seven years. Some days I peaked more than once." I smirk at her, "Besides, we definitely would have been that good back when we met."
"You think so?"
"I know so. Seven years of banter has been a substitute for not being able to do that."
"Banter as foreplay? I think I like that concept."
"Foreplay?" I think I sounded a little bit strangled there.
~*~
Oh, I so have him now. He sounds like his tie is way too tight right now. "Foreplay, Joshua, mutual sexual stimulation that takes place before intercourse. Foreplay."
"So you're saying that there's going to be intercourse? Because, you know, I'm good at the foreplay but—"
"Oh, there's definitely going to be intercourse." The look on his face is priceless. I almost hate doing this to him. Almost. "After we've been around each other long enough again to decide what this is actually going to be." And you can see the anticipation evaporate right before your eyes.
"So you're telling me there's going to be more talking before there's the actual sex? Because, I'm telling you Donna, it's a medical fact that there are limits to this foreplay thing. At some point there needs to be—you
know—release."
"What I'm telling you, Josh—and thank you for that stimulating visual—" My God, he actually groaned, "is that we're going to try working together again, being friends again, and see what develops. If there's not going to be a relationship, if there's just going to be sex, that's fine. But I want to know what it's going to be before I do it."
"So there's definitely going to be sex?"
"Oh yeah, there is definitely going to be sex. There's going to be a lot sex in your relatively near future."
"I absolutely like grown up Donna."
"Good. Because she's making command appearances." I pick my purse up off the coffee table, my work here is done. "Walk me to the door, Joshua. I'm going to get some well deserved sleep and I'll see you first thing in the morning. Rumor has it that there's a big debate we've got to prepare for tomorrow."
"What?"
"Debate. Congressman Santos. Our jobs, ringing any bells?"
"What?"
Oh this is fun. "Never mind. Walk me out. Hopefully there will be blood flow to the brain by tomorrow. The Congressman is going to need you."
"You're leaving?"
"Oh, I'm absolutely leaving. You have a lot to think about. I'm going to catch a little shut eye and meet you at the office bright and early tomorrow morning. Now comes the fun part."
"Fun part?"
"Yeah. Now we get to see where this is going." I say this from the top of the stairs. He's leaning against the doorframe attempting to look smug. I'd say that the dazed look is completely ruining that for him. I lean in and kiss him one more time for good measure. This kiss feels like a mutual promise. His tongue is negotiating with mine. He's really good at this kissing thing. I break the kiss and then do something I've wanted to do for a long time. I take his earlobe gently between my teeth and give it a tempting tug. "See you at the office tomorrow." And then turn on my heels. I smile to myself as I hear him groan. Oh, yes, this is going to be so much fun.
~*~
It's debate day. I live for prepping candidates for debates. Even better than prepping candidates for debates? Prepping candidates for debates with Donna. And, you know—Lou. But, Donna. Ever since I found out there was going to be a lot of sex in my relatively near future, I've been a pretty happy guy. It's been a good eighteen hours.
I'm really proud of Donna. She has learned a lot since I hired her. Most of it, I discovered today, she didn't learn from me. There's no way she learned that stuff from me. She was so good she had my head spinning. The thing about Donna is that she remembers everything. Everything CJ, Toby, Sam, Leo, the President and I have ever told her has stuck with her. She accumulated all of that knowledge and became one hell of an impressive policy message craftsman.
The debate is on primetime at eight o'clock tonight. That gives the congressman just enough time to have a late lunch with his wife, meet with Harris, the DNC Chairman, interview with the Post and do last minute debate
prep. I'm taking the meeting with Harris, Lou's taking the Post and we're all meeting at six thirty for the final debate stuff. That gives me enough time for lunch. Hopefully with Donna. I mean, how can we get to the lots of sex if we don't date. Right?
Holy shit. I'm going to date Donna. And how did I go from not sure what I want to dating Donna? Did just the mention of sex negate all the fears and worries I've had since last week's conversation? And she sounded more interested in the sex than she did the relationship. Oh great. After all of that last night, we still have to talk.
~*~
I've been working on debate prep with the Congressman, Josh and Lou since eight o'clock this morning. It's only one and I'm already both exhausted and starving. I have to say though, that Josh was amazing today. And, we work really well together. He listened to everything I had to say, agreed with almost all of it and convinced Congressman Santos to utilize most of it.
Thinking about Josh has always been—save for the last six months or so—a great pass time for me. I'm crazy about him. I'm a little afraid of him too. Not afraid of him in an 'I think he's going to hurt me' way, but I'm afraid of the way he can make me feel. Just a week back to a relative level of normalcy for us and I can already feel those old feelings surging back. I told him last night that if there wasn't going to be a relationship, if there was just going to be sex, that that was okay. I just wanted to know about it. But, I'm not okay with that. I'm not sure if I'll even take just the sex if that's all I can get. He seemed rather eager, though. Of course, we have amazing chemistry. I'm not surprised that he's intrigued by the idea of sex with me. I'm also flattered that he's that attracted to me.
But, I really do want more. I want all parts of Josh. Since it's apparent that I can't be around him and not have all consuming feelings for him, I'm going to either have to have a relationship with him or get the hell out of DC. Or at least out of the same social circles.
Speaking of social circles, I got a call from CJ the day after the Thursday Night Conversation. She heard through the grapevine that I was on the Santos campaign now. We're supposed to get together tomorrow night to catch up. I'm excited to see her, but I'm worried too. Really, things were never the same between us after the conversation during the lock-down. We weren't fabulous friends during my time with the Bartlet Administration. I socialized some with the senior staff, but not a lot. I wasn't part of that group. I'd hardly
consider myself equal to CJ now, professionally speaking, but I'm definitely not where I once was. Thanks, in part, to her. So, I do want to see her. I don't have many friends in DC. I have my former co-workers, sure. And we were close. But I haven't spoken to anyone other than CJ or Josh since I left.
I wonder if Josh still talks to Sam. I wonder if Sam is okay. I even miss Toby and Leo who both secretly terrified me the entire time I worked at the White House. I'm sorry that I never got to know the President better—of course, I wasn't one of his advisors. I wish that the time I spent with Abbey Bartlet wouldn't have been punctuated by my embarrassing conversation with her the night I found out I was Canadian. I'm even sorry that my roommate, Kaitlyn, had to move out of our apartment almost a year ago. Though, I can't really say that we were ever friends. It doesn't look like I'm anywhere close to winning friends among the campaign staff. I'm still an outsider. And, it's apparent that I'm not going to spend a whole lot of time on home court until the election.
I'm still lost in thought, sitting in my make-shift office behind a folding table serving as a desk, when Josh saunters in and props himself up against the door jamb. "Want to get lunch?" Well, that wasn't the romantic invitation I was hoping for, but it'll do—I'm starving!
"Sure. You've only got ninety minutes until the thing with Harris so we'd better hurry." The look on his face stops me in the midst of gathering up my purse. "What?"
He steps into the room but stops before actually approaching me. His eyes are dark and his voice is low when he says, "Donna, that's not your job anymore."
I'm confused. "What, Josh?"
"It's not your job to look after me anymore. It's not your job to know my schedule, make sure I'm where I'm supposed to be when I'm supposed to be there."
"Are you mad at me for reading your schedule? I honestly didn't think you'd mind or I wouldn't have done it." Why is he so upset?
"No, of course not." He backs down a little and runs a hand through his hair. "I'm not mad that you were looking at my schedule. It's just that you don't have to do that anymore. You've got better things to do than keep track of me."
He's defending my honor. That's actually very sweet. "I didn't do it because I thought I had to. I didn't do it because I think that's what I'm fit for. I did it, Joshua," I'm standing in front of him now, "because I wanted to know what your day looking liked. Not because it's my job to look after you and make sure you're where you're supposed to be when you're supposed to be there, but because I like to take care of you in whatever small ways I can. If that involves knowing where you're supposed to be and when you're supposed to be there so I can make sure you actually get some food, then that's the way it is." I punctuate my little speech with a light kiss pressed to his lips. "No, it's not my job to worry about you, but I do it anyway." Another kiss. "Get used to
it." This time, when I kiss him, I gently engage his tongue. This kiss we share is soft, slow, and romantic. It feels kinder and gentler than we have been to each other in a long time. It feels, for all the world, like a promise.
talking to him I was worried that I was ruining that amazing dynamic between us—or what had, at one time, been an amazing dynamic. But once I started talking I couldn't stop. I had this sudden need to express myself. My sister, Vie, used to call it verbal vomit.
And then there was what will forever be referred to as the Thursday Night Conversation. After everything, Josh still told me that he loved me. But he still doesn't know what he wants. He still doesn't know if he wants a
relationship. I don't know if I'll ever feel that way about him again. I feel like I'm beating this whole thing to death. Neither one of us are sure where it's going and neither one of us are sure that we'll be able to get back to a place where an actual relationship is a possibility. Maybe we just waited too long. Maybe the time has passed and now is our opportunity to salvage a friendship out of this whole mess.
And then he answered the door. When I haven't seen him, even for a few days, it's easy to forget a little what it's like to look at him. He's beautiful. He'd hate it if I told him that. "Hi." He's using that voice again. That low and sultry, makes me want to pin him to a wall, voice.
"Hey." I have to touch him. Just once. I step into his entryway and he pushes the door closed behind me. I turn to face him and whisper, "Forgive me," before I step into him. As if he knows, he wraps an arm around my waist, hand closing securely over my ribs, and cups the back of my head in his free hand. My arms are wrapped haphazardly around him, trying to gain as much purchase as possible without making this inappropriate.
~*~
She wants me to forgive her for this? It's been a long time since we've held each other. I don't ever remember not hugging Donna. When she came to me she needed that kind of reassurance. Out of that was born the kind of relationship where we hugged and touched and were generally rather free with our affections. She told me once about a study she read that said that women required a certain amount of touches everyday. Ever since then I've tried to make an effort to touch her at least once. Boundaries there were, of course, but we always seemed more—tactile—than the others.
She's warm and soft, pressed up against me. I can't resist pressing a kiss against her hair line. I can feel her heart beating against my chest. I don't think it's possible for us to be any closer together than we are right now. We're pressed together from chest to thigh and it just feels...right. How on earth could she ever ask me to forgive her for something this perfect?
I want to kiss her so badly right now. I seem to be fighting that urge a lot lately. But I know, judging by her mood and mine, and the lack of physical closeness here of late, that a kiss would just lead to me taking her to bed. And, despite the fact that sex may very well just clear this whole thing up—I don't think that's the best course of action. But because I can't resist her when she's like this, I press another kiss to her hairline, one to her temple and then drop a kiss on her shoulder before I release her.
Her skin, what I can see of it, is flushed slightly pink. Yes, a kiss would only have led to one place. And even though I'd like nothing more than bury myself between her thighs, we really need to talk. She looks into my eyes, looks for all the world like she's about to kiss me. Oh no. "Thanks for coming." There. Spell broken.
She only looks a little disappointed. "I'm glad we're doing this." She flushes a little. "Talking, I mean."
"I am too." I nod toward the living room, offering a silent invitation. She takes it, preceding me into the room.
~*~
I sit down and wait. Josh sits in the arm chair next to the couch, where I'm sitting. He's looking at me, softly, expectantly. It's nice and sweet but, I can't take this anymore. "Who in the hell are we, Josh?" Wow, that came out a lot louder than I intended.
"What?" He sounds slightly panicked. Of course, I did just completely change the tone of the entire conversation.
"I mean, who are we? Because these two people we've been for the last week are not the Josh Lyman and Donna Moss that we used to be. There used to be banter and teasing and snarking…there used to be some sort of chemistry! Then, I pour my heart out to you and all of a sudden we're Mr. and Mrs. Cleaver, just floating along, being polite, trying to figure out what the fuck we're supposed to do with our lives and it's not working, Josh! It's just not working!"
"This is definitely not what I had in mind when I said that we should talk some more."
"And that's another thing. When did you turn into Mr. In-Touch-With-His-Feelings? What happened to that brash, conceited, egotistical, do-no-wrong, steam-rolling, bull dog that I fell in love with? What happened to
that strong, hard-headed, yells my name at the top of his lungs, struts and swaggers, insults me but makes my point, Josh Senator-Shove-Your-Legislative-Agenda-Up-Your-Ass Lyman?"
"Me?" He says, his voice rising to that fevered pitch it gets when he's being challenged. "What happened to my happy, optimistic, full of useless arcane knowledge, girl on a budget, wake me up in the mornings assistant?"
"I grew up, Joshua! I'm still happy. I'm relatively optimistic. What I'm full of, Joshua, is not useless, arcane knowledge, but trivia that is useful in a wide variety of situations. I'm not on such a budget anymore because I don't work for the federal government. I actually got to negotiate salary, and I did damn well for myself! And, I'm not your assistant anymore! I haven't been your assistant since CJ so helpfully pointed out that I needed to get myself the hell away from you!" Oh, this feels good. This is therapeutic. Cleansing, even.
"I don't know how to work with this new stuff, Donna! Our entire relationship was based on the fact that I was your boss and you were my assistant. Now, suddenly we're supposed to be equals and I'm supposed to know how to handle it?" Good, he's up and pacing now. Yelling. Running his hands through his hair. This
Josh I know how to deal with.
"Yeah, well, I don't know how to handle it either! You're supposed to be giving me hell, insulting the men that I date, asking me to bring you coffee and turning down my very creative requests for a raise. But now, all of the sudden, I'm not even in the same room with supposed to bring you coffee and I don't need a raise! You're supposed to know more than me and explain the intricacies of the workings of the federal government to me. I'm not supposed to know about message and demographics and what polls well. But damn it, Josh, I do know about all of those things and you needed someone who does. I specialized, by God, and I did it quick, fast and in a hurry. And, I'll be damned, but I'm good at it. I have a real feel for this part of the process. I'm actually good at campaigning. Thanks in no small part to you!" I'm standing now and we're toe to toe.
"You're right, Donna! You are good at what you do. You don't need me anymore. How do you think I feel about that? You've always needed me and now you don't and I'm just supposed to go on and not miss that feeling?" He's still yelling. It takes the sting of the sensitivity out of his words. Of course, it also makes him incredibly hot. So I'm kissing him before I even realize that I've formed my rebuttal.
It's like the rest of the fight come out in this kiss. He yells, and then I yell, then him, then me. It's all parry and thrust and it's hot and wet and delicious. His hands are wrapped in my hair and my hands are on his chest, ready to push him away when this gets to be too much. As far as kisses go, it's more a power struggle than anything else. The fight is a draw when we break apart both gasping for air. Of course, the forcefulness of it all is softened by the fact that our foreheads are pressed together and my eyes are closed. His breath is hot and harsh on my face, my breathing is ragged. I grab the lapels of his suit to steady myself when I pull my face away from him.
~*~
That's the hottest thing that's ever happened to me in my life and I'm over forty. I definitely like grown-up Donna because this woman looking at me, chest heaving and eyes almost black from what I hope is arousal, is the sexiest woman I've ever had the pleasure to touch. "Wow." Is all I can think to say.
"Yeah, wow." She returns. I am so the man. "We so should have done that four years ago. Think how much that would have solved. I mean, I could have gotten my raise."
You mean that's all it took to get back the banter? She's right…we should have done this a long time ago. Like after the MS thing when everything started to fall apart. "We should have done that the night we won the election. Then I would have known I couldn't hire you as my assistant."
"What?" She sounds a little hurt.
"If I would have known that we'd be like that, I never would have had you assigned to me. If I had known that we were that good together I would have made damn sure we were able to be together."
"Oh, I don't know, Josh. Maybe we wouldn't have been that good if it wasn't for the last seven years. Pent up sexual frustration has a way of manifesting itself when it's at its peak."
"Donna, I swear to you I peaked at least a thousand times during the last seven years. Some days I peaked more than once." I smirk at her, "Besides, we definitely would have been that good back when we met."
"You think so?"
"I know so. Seven years of banter has been a substitute for not being able to do that."
"Banter as foreplay? I think I like that concept."
"Foreplay?" I think I sounded a little bit strangled there.
~*~
Oh, I so have him now. He sounds like his tie is way too tight right now. "Foreplay, Joshua, mutual sexual stimulation that takes place before intercourse. Foreplay."
"So you're saying that there's going to be intercourse? Because, you know, I'm good at the foreplay but—"
"Oh, there's definitely going to be intercourse." The look on his face is priceless. I almost hate doing this to him. Almost. "After we've been around each other long enough again to decide what this is actually going to be." And you can see the anticipation evaporate right before your eyes.
"So you're telling me there's going to be more talking before there's the actual sex? Because, I'm telling you Donna, it's a medical fact that there are limits to this foreplay thing. At some point there needs to be—you
know—release."
"What I'm telling you, Josh—and thank you for that stimulating visual—" My God, he actually groaned, "is that we're going to try working together again, being friends again, and see what develops. If there's not going to be a relationship, if there's just going to be sex, that's fine. But I want to know what it's going to be before I do it."
"So there's definitely going to be sex?"
"Oh yeah, there is definitely going to be sex. There's going to be a lot sex in your relatively near future."
"I absolutely like grown up Donna."
"Good. Because she's making command appearances." I pick my purse up off the coffee table, my work here is done. "Walk me to the door, Joshua. I'm going to get some well deserved sleep and I'll see you first thing in the morning. Rumor has it that there's a big debate we've got to prepare for tomorrow."
"What?"
"Debate. Congressman Santos. Our jobs, ringing any bells?"
"What?"
Oh this is fun. "Never mind. Walk me out. Hopefully there will be blood flow to the brain by tomorrow. The Congressman is going to need you."
"You're leaving?"
"Oh, I'm absolutely leaving. You have a lot to think about. I'm going to catch a little shut eye and meet you at the office bright and early tomorrow morning. Now comes the fun part."
"Fun part?"
"Yeah. Now we get to see where this is going." I say this from the top of the stairs. He's leaning against the doorframe attempting to look smug. I'd say that the dazed look is completely ruining that for him. I lean in and kiss him one more time for good measure. This kiss feels like a mutual promise. His tongue is negotiating with mine. He's really good at this kissing thing. I break the kiss and then do something I've wanted to do for a long time. I take his earlobe gently between my teeth and give it a tempting tug. "See you at the office tomorrow." And then turn on my heels. I smile to myself as I hear him groan. Oh, yes, this is going to be so much fun.
~*~
It's debate day. I live for prepping candidates for debates. Even better than prepping candidates for debates? Prepping candidates for debates with Donna. And, you know—Lou. But, Donna. Ever since I found out there was going to be a lot of sex in my relatively near future, I've been a pretty happy guy. It's been a good eighteen hours.
I'm really proud of Donna. She has learned a lot since I hired her. Most of it, I discovered today, she didn't learn from me. There's no way she learned that stuff from me. She was so good she had my head spinning. The thing about Donna is that she remembers everything. Everything CJ, Toby, Sam, Leo, the President and I have ever told her has stuck with her. She accumulated all of that knowledge and became one hell of an impressive policy message craftsman.
The debate is on primetime at eight o'clock tonight. That gives the congressman just enough time to have a late lunch with his wife, meet with Harris, the DNC Chairman, interview with the Post and do last minute debate
prep. I'm taking the meeting with Harris, Lou's taking the Post and we're all meeting at six thirty for the final debate stuff. That gives me enough time for lunch. Hopefully with Donna. I mean, how can we get to the lots of sex if we don't date. Right?
Holy shit. I'm going to date Donna. And how did I go from not sure what I want to dating Donna? Did just the mention of sex negate all the fears and worries I've had since last week's conversation? And she sounded more interested in the sex than she did the relationship. Oh great. After all of that last night, we still have to talk.
~*~
I've been working on debate prep with the Congressman, Josh and Lou since eight o'clock this morning. It's only one and I'm already both exhausted and starving. I have to say though, that Josh was amazing today. And, we work really well together. He listened to everything I had to say, agreed with almost all of it and convinced Congressman Santos to utilize most of it.
Thinking about Josh has always been—save for the last six months or so—a great pass time for me. I'm crazy about him. I'm a little afraid of him too. Not afraid of him in an 'I think he's going to hurt me' way, but I'm afraid of the way he can make me feel. Just a week back to a relative level of normalcy for us and I can already feel those old feelings surging back. I told him last night that if there wasn't going to be a relationship, if there was just going to be sex, that that was okay. I just wanted to know about it. But, I'm not okay with that. I'm not sure if I'll even take just the sex if that's all I can get. He seemed rather eager, though. Of course, we have amazing chemistry. I'm not surprised that he's intrigued by the idea of sex with me. I'm also flattered that he's that attracted to me.
But, I really do want more. I want all parts of Josh. Since it's apparent that I can't be around him and not have all consuming feelings for him, I'm going to either have to have a relationship with him or get the hell out of DC. Or at least out of the same social circles.
Speaking of social circles, I got a call from CJ the day after the Thursday Night Conversation. She heard through the grapevine that I was on the Santos campaign now. We're supposed to get together tomorrow night to catch up. I'm excited to see her, but I'm worried too. Really, things were never the same between us after the conversation during the lock-down. We weren't fabulous friends during my time with the Bartlet Administration. I socialized some with the senior staff, but not a lot. I wasn't part of that group. I'd hardly
consider myself equal to CJ now, professionally speaking, but I'm definitely not where I once was. Thanks, in part, to her. So, I do want to see her. I don't have many friends in DC. I have my former co-workers, sure. And we were close. But I haven't spoken to anyone other than CJ or Josh since I left.
I wonder if Josh still talks to Sam. I wonder if Sam is okay. I even miss Toby and Leo who both secretly terrified me the entire time I worked at the White House. I'm sorry that I never got to know the President better—of course, I wasn't one of his advisors. I wish that the time I spent with Abbey Bartlet wouldn't have been punctuated by my embarrassing conversation with her the night I found out I was Canadian. I'm even sorry that my roommate, Kaitlyn, had to move out of our apartment almost a year ago. Though, I can't really say that we were ever friends. It doesn't look like I'm anywhere close to winning friends among the campaign staff. I'm still an outsider. And, it's apparent that I'm not going to spend a whole lot of time on home court until the election.
I'm still lost in thought, sitting in my make-shift office behind a folding table serving as a desk, when Josh saunters in and props himself up against the door jamb. "Want to get lunch?" Well, that wasn't the romantic invitation I was hoping for, but it'll do—I'm starving!
"Sure. You've only got ninety minutes until the thing with Harris so we'd better hurry." The look on his face stops me in the midst of gathering up my purse. "What?"
He steps into the room but stops before actually approaching me. His eyes are dark and his voice is low when he says, "Donna, that's not your job anymore."
I'm confused. "What, Josh?"
"It's not your job to look after me anymore. It's not your job to know my schedule, make sure I'm where I'm supposed to be when I'm supposed to be there."
"Are you mad at me for reading your schedule? I honestly didn't think you'd mind or I wouldn't have done it." Why is he so upset?
"No, of course not." He backs down a little and runs a hand through his hair. "I'm not mad that you were looking at my schedule. It's just that you don't have to do that anymore. You've got better things to do than keep track of me."
He's defending my honor. That's actually very sweet. "I didn't do it because I thought I had to. I didn't do it because I think that's what I'm fit for. I did it, Joshua," I'm standing in front of him now, "because I wanted to know what your day looking liked. Not because it's my job to look after you and make sure you're where you're supposed to be when you're supposed to be there, but because I like to take care of you in whatever small ways I can. If that involves knowing where you're supposed to be and when you're supposed to be there so I can make sure you actually get some food, then that's the way it is." I punctuate my little speech with a light kiss pressed to his lips. "No, it's not my job to worry about you, but I do it anyway." Another kiss. "Get used to
it." This time, when I kiss him, I gently engage his tongue. This kiss we share is soft, slow, and romantic. It feels kinder and gentler than we have been to each other in a long time. It feels, for all the world, like a promise.
