|
That's Who We Are.
Who We Are: Part 5
Author's Notes: Fifth part in the WWA series - if you haven't read the previous parts, this probably won't make much sense. (and if you have, well, that probably still stands! [g] ) Thanks to the people who've sent me feedback so far.
Disclaimer: I do not earn any money from this, I don't have any money, and in fact, writing fic is probably costing me money since I'm not doing my uni coursework and hence may not pass my degree (just kidding, parents! Although, not so much, now.) All praise Aaron Sorkin!
Feedback: Some people need drink, some people need cigarettes, some people need both. I need feedback! And Josh, but what can ya do, eh?
It's been a long night. The White House hosted a dinner for the latest Nobel Prize Winners and although assistants weren't invited, the senior staff also had to spend the night trying to avoid the President's veto being overturned.
I've been trying to talk to Josh all night. I have to tell him about Cliff. I know it may not be a good idea, but the fact is this could be important. This could cause problems for the President and this whole administration.
It figures. I spend two evenings in the company of a charming, witty, good-looking guy, and I could bring this whole administration down.
Well, at least help bring it down.
And that's the last thing I want to do.
So I have to tell Josh. Josh can handle anything as long as he knows the full story.
Maybe I can get away with not telling him the full story. We met, talked, realised whom each other was and parted.
"I got away with this thing, but you should really learn how to tie a bow tie." Josh comes up behind me and tosses the tie down on my desk.
"Or you could," I reply. Well, honestly, he's pushing forty. Why can't he do his own damn tie?
"Yeah, but that doesn't seem that likely, right?" No, of course not. "You can go home." Well, gee, thank you oh master! Shame I can't go home just yet, since not only do I have more filing to do, but I actually have to tell Josh about Cliff.
"I'll stick around." I walk over to a file cabinet, pick up a folder and head back to my desk. Josh is heading to his office when he suddenly turns around and walks back towards me.
"You wanted to talk to me about something before." Yes, I did. Well, want is a strong word. Have to might be a better description. I force a smile onto my face and begin my confession.
"Yeah... listen. I was fixed up on a blind date a few nights ago." Okay, Josh doesn't look happy. He leans against the doorframe, watching me.
"When?" That's the easy question.
"A few nights ago."
Josh shifts a little. He looks like he's about to lose it. Unhappy doesn't cover this now. He's about to bring the yelling. I just keep going. If I stop, I might not be able to start again.
"Ainsley fixed us up. He's a Republican lawyer working for Ways and Means but he was being transferred. And it turns out now…" I pause and sigh. He seems to have missed the Ways and Means part. I can be grateful for that, at least. "...that he's on Government Oversight-"
"You can't see him anymore." His interruption surprises me, but what really sticks is the realisation that Josh telling me I can't see someone doesn't seem to bother me as much I thought it would.
"I know that."
"You can't see him anymore." Yes, Josh. I heard you the first time. He's looking at me intently, as if he needs to convince me that I can't see him anymore. What? He thinks I'm going to jeopardise my job, our careers and the President his… Presidency, just for a guy?
"I know that." And then I realise that not only did I risk all that with Cliff, but I risked it with Josh too.
"It was just that night?" I don't have to tell him about the second night. I don't. I can just admit to the first night and then it'll be over.
"Yeah…" There. "No…" What am I doing? "We got together the next night again. We shouldn't have."
Josh looks at the floor as he undoes the top button on his shirt. I'm still waiting for the yelling; wishing for it now, actually. I know Josh is angry; he's practically shaking with it. I'm hoping that if he lets it go then we can move on.
Instead, all he says is, "Yeah".
"Look, when we got together the first time..." I start to explain, but he interrupts me again.
"You just thought he was with Ways and Means, who I was battling on the estate tax." So he did notice that after all.
He finally unbuttons his collar and looks up at me again. It's then that I see the look in his eyes. It… I… What have I done?
"I'm sorry..."
"Did any reporters see you?" God, I didn't even think about that. They can't have. They just can't have.
"No."
"The second night?"
"No."
He's staring at me, trying to hide what he's really feeling. He's not, but then I'm not sure if he actually cares that he's not at the moment.
"Alright. You can go home." I've been dismissed again. I'm on the verge of just grabbing my stuff and getting the hell out of here before I start crying, but instead, I do my job. It's the only thing I can offer him now.
"The President wants you in five minutes." He's still just staring at me. I can't stand the look in his eyes but I still don't turn away.
"Thanks." Then he turns away and walks into his office. He doesn't slam the door closed; instead he shuts it with what must be the last of his restraint.
I'm not sure why, but the sound of his door closing snaps something inside me.
I don't understand why he's acting like such a jerk. Okay, so I made a mistake. Cliff and I definitely shouldn't have gotten together the second night. I admit that. It just happened.
As for dating someone who works for Ways and Means, well, I work for Josh. It's not as if I'm owned by him, and it's not as if I was telling Cliff White House secrets during pillow-talk or anything.
It's then that I remember the look in his eyes when he looked up at me again. Yes, he was angry. But he was also hurt, and disappointed. It was like I betrayed him - not the White House, or the Democratic Party just for daring to date a Republican, but him personally, which makes me think this might still be personal for him after all.
That morning in Manchester, he was upset. I was worried about him so when I went into the bathroom I decided that I'd try to cheer him up with our usual banter. I remember him making some awful joke about his stubble in the basin, and then apologising. He said he'd screwed up and I tried to tell him that it was just a mistake.
I feel myself smile a little as I remember him being surprised about me not questioning him, but then I got distracted by his chest, or rather the scar on his chest. Okay, yes, I was distracted a little by a wet Josh in a towel, but the scar got to me. I'd reached out, run my fingers over it, before I even realised, and then Josh had covered my hand and we were kissing. Full-on make-out! Which led to, God, more.
I never should have let that happen. I knew he was upset. I… I took advantage of the situation, of him.
I'm not saying he didn't want to do it. In fact, I'm pretty sure he did want to do it. I'm just not sure he would have done it if he was… y'know, him. I'm not making any sense, am I?
If Josh was thinking straight, he would never have let that happen. There.
So I took advantage of him. I knew it as soon as we…were done, which is why I practically threw us both out of the room. Josh didn't seem to understand at the time and he wanted to talk, but I couldn't. Not then. I just couldn't. Then he got a little upset, and I remember thinking that it was nice to know he cared about what happened next.
Well, he can't have cared enough; we haven't even mentioned it since. We've just gone back to how we always were. It's been three weeks, and he hasn't said a thing.
Okay, so when I say we've gone back to how we always were, I may have been overstating a little. We share more silences these days than I've ever known, and not just ones where neither of us have anything to say. There're also the ones where we end up looking at each other, as though one or both of us are remembering something, or considering something. Those are the worst. It's those silences that were pushing me to the edge - I was fast approaching the point where I was gonna lock Josh and me in that office and make him talk to me.
And then Ainsley mentioned Cliff and I snapped. To hell with Josh; he obviously wasn't interested. Time to move on.
And now he's hurt? He's disappointed? He's sending ME on a guilt trip? No way. No WAY!
I storm my way into his office and slam his door closed behind me without even thinking. Josh is staring out of his window but turns around quickly when he hears the slam. He looks at me in surprise at first, and then tries to look uninterested as he sits down at his desk. That just enrages me more.
"Josh, look at me!" I don't shout. Shouting wouldn't help this situation, but my voice doesn't leave any room for argument. He looks up slowly. "Don't you think it's about time we talked about this?" I don't care if he doesn't; we're doing this now.
"I… "
"Don't, Josh. We can't put this off any longer." We look at each other, the argument continuing in our eyes, until he sighs and runs his hands through his hair.
"Okay, sit down." I sit in the visitor's chair and give him all of one minute to start talking. He doesn't, just like I expected, so I start asking questions.
"What's going on here, Josh?"
"We're running a country." I pick up the closest thing to me - an American History hardback - and throw it at him. Well, in his direction. "Ow! Donna!" I just glare at him, and eventually his face registers the seriousness of the situation. "I don't know." The unexpected sincerity in his voice takes all the fight out of me and I collapse back in the chair.
We sit there in another silence, me looking out the window and him staring at his desk. I'm surprised again when he speaks first.
"Why did you go out with him?" I glare at him, but he seems genuinely interested. "I mean…, why did you go on the blind date? I thought…, I don't know what I thought." His voice is quiet and, and dejected.
"We haven't talked about it, Josh. I didn't know where we stood with each other, and as time went on it didn't look like we were ever going to talk about it. I thought…"
"What?" he asks gently when I run out of words. "What did you think, Donna?"
"I started to think it was just a one-time thing. I mean, there were times you'd look at me and I'd think maybe you wanted… us. But it's been three weeks, Josh, and you haven't said a thing. So, when Ainsley… what did you say?"
"I said, 'three weeks isn't exactly that long.' We've known each other for three and a half years, Donna. You only gave me three weeks?"
"I gave you three and a half years, Joshua." His eyes widen and mouth opens in shock at that statement. "The last three weeks have been increasingly unbearable and when Ainsley mentioned Cliff, I thought it'd be my chance to start getting over what happened." I look away, but he keeps watching me.
"Do you want to get over it?" No. I really don't. But I don't know what else we can do. The President has got re-election coming up, not to mention many Congressional hearings, and we are who we are.
"Do you?" That wasn't what I wanted to say. I speak again, before he can. "I think we have to." Josh lowers his head again.
"Can you…" he clears his throat. "Will you be able to keep working with me? I…" he clears his throat again. Maybe I should get him some water? Maybe he's hiding something? I can't see his eyes. I can't tell what he's really thinking. "I understand if you want to request a transfer." That suggestion causes me to forget whatever was on my mind.
"Transfer? Josh, I don't want a transfer. I love working with you." He sighs and smiles a little, glancing my way for a split second. "It's…"
"…who we are," we finish together. He looks up again and this time we share the small smile.
"Thanks," he says. Then he loses the smile and shifts uncomfortably. "Donna, can I ask you a question? You don't have to answer it if you don't want to." I feel my smile slip but I'm curious so I nod. "Why did you… That morning, why…?" He trails off and his eyes ask me for help.
"I wanted to help you." I pause, confused, as he squeezes his eyes shut and drops his head yet again.
"So, it was pity," he states, almost too quietly for me to hear. I do hear it though, and I'm annoyed again. So annoyed, I stand up to respond.
"No, Josh! It was never pity! I wanted to help you, but I didn't know how. Then I… the scar… and I…" I realise I'm getting upset, and incomprehensible, around about the same time Josh wraps his arms around me and pulls me against him. "I… took advantage of the situation." I'm not crying, thank God, just worked up.
"So, you wanted it to happen?" I can hear the smile in his voice and nod against his chest. God, he smells good. He tilts his head to whisper in my ear: "me too".
I take a deep breath, relief washing over me. At least we're on the same page now. I step away from him, leaving just his hand holding mine between us. Now our only problem is:
"We still can't do this." Yeah, it's a pretty big problem.
"No." Josh agrees. He's rubbing his thumb across the back of my hand. Just that touch is driving me crazy. I pull my hand away, a little too sharply. Josh actually looks hurt again for a moment, until I clear my throat and smile.
"Good night, Josh." I turn towards the door, my hand on the handle, ready to open it, when Josh's quietly-spoken words stop me.
"Deputy Chief of Staff; Senior Assistant to the Deputy Chief of Staff." He pauses just long enough for me to consider turning around and asking him what he's on about, but I don't. "It's what we do, Donna, not who we are. You're Donnatella Moss and I'm Josh Lyman. That's who we are."
I pause at the door for a second, taking in his words and working out what he really means - that one day, we're not going to have these jobs anymore, and then we can be together. Joshua Lyman and Donnatella Moss.
'Cause that's who we are.
Go to Who We Are Part 6: Quicksand >
Feedback: tk@ahkay.net
Stargate SG-1 is the property of MGM
and Gekko Productions.
The West Wing is the property of Aaron Sorkin, Warner
Bros and NBC.
This is a non-profit fansite. No copyright infringement is intended.
All fanfiction, videos, ringtones, etc, are ©
2001-2004 Elysium unless otherwise
stated.
Please do not reproduce without permission.