*Just a quick thanks to everyone on the WWSOTU list who helped me out with a few
of the details on this one...and a special hi to one of my buds who makes a special
guest star appearance in this as a hotel clerk...D.A.McF you rock!
Josh stared off into the vestibule, watching Toby and his father listening to the
male choir. Well, at least one damn thing had worked out today—he was still waiting to
see if he had indeed achieved peace in the Middle East. Maybe if he called the Vatican
and got the Pope to fly in and repair the roof on the Church of the Nativity himself,
Christmas in Bethlehem might just happen.
Then again, the chances of that happening were no better than the Capitols
winning the Stanley Cup…and the President and Leo would probably beat the crap out of
him for blatant blasphemy in the holiday season.
He snapped his cell phone shut, tired of being on hold with Middle East
negotiators and decided it was time for a five-minute break. Maybe Margaret had spiked
the eggnog again—he could definitely do with getting drunk.
Drunk.
He closed his eyes.
He was going to get drunk with Donna tonight. Or at least, that had been the plan
before she had whisked herself off to Jack Reese and their four-poster canopy bed. Oh,
he knew what kind of a place that inn was—Donna had shoved the brochure in his face
countless times during the day as the snow had piled higher and higher outside.
Josh headed for the vestibule after nodding silently to Leo—it wasn’t like he was
going home or anything. With the echoes of the choir reverberating sweetly in the
hallway, he flipped his cell phone back open and dialled the operator.
“Directory Assistance, how can I help you?”
“Yeah, hi, I need the number for the Inn at Little Washington in Virginia.”
“Connecting, sir…”
The hotel clerk picked up after two rings. “Inn at Little Washington, good
evening, Duncan speaking.”
“Hi, ah…” Josh suddenly went blank. What if the room wasn’t booked under
Donna’s name? Was she even there yet? He didn’t really want to be put through to Jack
as if he was checking up on the two of them together. That wouldn’t be sabotaging a
date, that would be undeniable interference.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
“Yeah, I’m still here, sorry.” Think fast, buddy, he chided himself silently.
Right, when in doubt, fake it. “I’m…I’m calling from the Deputy Chief of Staff’s office
at the White House. Mr Lyman was wondering if his assistant, a Miss Donna Moss, had
arrived safely. There was something about a helicopter getting through the storm…do
you have any information I can pass along to him?”
There were a few moments of silence as the clerk checked the computer registry.
“Yes…yes, Miss Moss arrived and checked in over an hour ago.” The clerk poorly
muffled a chuckle as he looked at the rest of Donna’s information, causing Josh’s throat
to constrict. “There’s a do not disturb request on her phone line just now, but I can take a
message to pass along to her. Who may I ask is calling?”
Josh blanked again. A name…think of a name you dumb idiot.
“Um…this is…Bailey, Will Bailey. I’m new here…sort of…anyway, there’s no
need to leave a message, that’s fine, everything’s great now, that’s all I…I mean, all he
needs to know,” he blurted out at lightning speed. “Thanks,” he ended lamely.
“No problem, Mr Bailey. Merry Christmas.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Josh replied, snapping the cell phone shut.
Well, that had been unbelievably awkward. He tried to get rid of the image of
Jack Reese smoothly requesting that they not receive any phone calls as Donna finally
joined him.
I bet she went to Victoria’s Secret to buy some sexy early present to wear for her
new man, Josh thought glumly. Grinding his teeth, he pressed the heels of his hands
against his eyes, doing his damnedest to blot out any more thoughts like that.
“Get a grip, get a grip,” he mumbled. After all, there was nothing he could do
about the fact that Donna had started dating some short pretty military boy just when he
had been ready to give her a present of his own for Christmas…and maybe New Year’s
Eve…and definitely every day and night thereafter.
A fleeting image of naked Donna danced before him, as she writhed in ecstasy
beneath him, her alabaster skin contrasting with the dark blue sheets of his bed. Don’t
you dare, he threatened silently as he felt his sex beginning to tighten from his brief
fantasy.
Sighing deeply, he headed back into the conference room, but not before rolling
his eyes, mumbling to himself. “Josh, you are in desperate need of a life.”
********
His feet were frozen through by the time he finally got back to his apartment.
Walking through snow-strewn streets might be in keeping with the season, but being out
in a blizzard like the one currently blustering its way through DC was sheer insanity.
And he was nothing but a crazy man.
Even more fantastic was the fact he was a crazy man who had put away quite the
number of beers tonight with Will Bailey, CJ, Danny Concannon and some other staffers
over at Gabby’s Pub. And not some weak domestic stuff either—he’d done the complete
opposite of his usual pattern and ordered the darkest, thickest, most Irish beer in the
place.
And damn if that Guinness wasn’t strong enough to make all of his extremities
tingle even more than the numbing cold outside.
Seeing the flashing light on his answering machine, he smacked the play button,
expecting to hear yet another lecture from Amy about how much she missed him or how
he should be missing her more.
The voice that did come through the machine came as a complete surprise.
“Josh? Are you there?” Donna’s recording sounded as if she was whispering into
the receiver.
“What?” he barked at the tape, “are you too scared to talk to me normally with
SuperJack in the same room?”
“Okay, you’re not there and I know that by now Leo must have sent everyone
home. I just…I just wanted to say sorry for not saying goodbye earlier tonight. It just all
happened so suddenly, I found myself on my way here before I could blink an eye.
Anyway, I hope you have a Merry Christmas—” There was a brief silence as she paused,
thinking of how to end the call. “And, Josh? You know that if you had really needed me,
I would have stayed, right? Good. But I think I really really like this one. And hey, no
gomer would bring me here, now would he? Okay, then. Bye.”
Josh shut his eyes as the machine flicked off. She would have stayed…
Definitely time for another drink.
********
“Hello?”
“Donna?”
“Josh? What are you doing?”
“Um…nothing…sitting down…holding a phone…having a beer…the usual
Christmas Eve thing.”
“Okay…” Donna sounded very confused. “Was there something you needed?”
You—here—now—on the couch with me—in my lap—clothes optional. Josh
closed his eyes and hoped that none of that little interior monologue had made it past his
lips.
“I just…I, uh, I didn’t get a chance to say good-bye to you tonight. Or wish you a
Merry Christmas.”
“Josh, are you drunk?”
“What, are you insinuating something?”
“Right, you are drunk.”
Through the receiver he could hear her sit up. Her four-poster bed had very
squeaky springs considering how much Reese was shelling out for the room. Then again,
maybe they wanted an audience.
“Maybe I wanted what?”
Josh’s eyes flew open and he stood up quickly. “What? What did you want?”
“You just said I wanted an audience.” There was silence for a minute and he
could hear more spring squeaks in the background. In his mind, Josh pictured what
Donna must look like at that moment—the sheets pooled around her waist, her hair
mussy but completely irresistible—his fingers itched now to run through her blond
tresses.
“Josh? I’m waiting for an answer.”
Play dumb. Play dumb convincingly. “An answer to what?”
“What did you mean by what you said before?”
“I’m confused, Donna, back the conversation up a bit. I told you that the whole
snafu today wasn’t what it looked like. I’m happy you’re off there with Commander
Skywalker.”
She huffed into the phone. “Josh, either you start making sense, or I’m hanging
up. Why are you calling me now anyway?”
Because I miss you—because I wanted to be the one with you tonight, not
Captain Reeses Pieces—because I lo… Probably not a good idea to finish that particular
thought.
“I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, Donna. It’s just that when Leo told me you were
gone all I wanted to do…you see, lately…I just wanted to say…” He closed his eyes,
hopefully getting a grip and trying not to let his gorge rise as he choked out the words. “I
just hope…I hope you have a really good time. You deserve to be happy. And Jack is a
great guy. Really, he’s not a gomer. He’s…he’s different, isn’t he?”
There was a long frightening silence at the end of the line. Josh could feel his
body break out in a cold sweat—was it from his frozen feet, his drunken body, or the fact
that Donna wasn’t saying anything? Definitely answer C.
A part of him knew instinctively that Donna was crying, long seconds before he
actually heard her muffled sobs on the other end of the line.
“Really, Josh,” she snuffled, “you sometimes have the ability to say the sweetest,
dearest things…”
Whatever she might continued to say was cut short as a third voice drifted into
hearing.
“Donnatella!! Your bubble bath awaits you!”
At that particular moment, Josh would have given countless fortunes to have
misheard Jack Reese as his sexy baritone echoed around Donna’s hotel suite and through
the phone lines all the way back to Washington. She was about to get into a hot, sultry
bathtub with another man. Suddenly, Josh’s need to end the call overwhelmed him.
“Donna? Looks like my coffee filter just caught on fire—I’d better go.”
“Josh? Wait…don’t hang up—”
The receiver slammed down into the cradle and Josh drew several shattering
breaths, holding his hands against his face.
Too late. He was too late. Again. First with Dr Freeride taking her away from
him at the very beginning of their…whatever it was…then countless gomers, then Cliff,
now Jack. Hell, he’d even suspected Sam of harbouring a crush on the luscious Donna in
his darkest moments, when the demons of his PTSD played havoc with his mind.
The phone stayed silent in its cradle, despite his deep longing for it to ring again
and for her to tell him that he had misheard and it wasn’t what he thought.
But he knew it was—the entire West Wing had picked up on Donna’s latest
partiality for a certain man in uniform—and there was nothing he could do to change it.
At least, not for the time being.
His hand reached for the bottle of Bud, but at the last second he stood up and
walked away, choosing the solace of sleep over the forgetfulness of the bottle. In the
bathroom he took his Nortriptyline pills, hoping that the slight mixing of alcohol and
prescription drugs would knock him out for the rest of the night—and without any cruel
nightmares.
It was odd how the physical memories and terrors of the shooting reoccurred
whenever he faced serious stress inside or outside of the office. And it wasn’t like the
PTSD was going anywhere—he could control it, but it would stay with him as a second
shadow for the rest of his days.
And in his bleakest moments, like now, he took comfort in sparing Donna that
particular burden of…well, coping with him for the rest of her life. He would spare her
that at any length. Damned if he was going to settle for pity-love…or pity sex…pity
anything.
The oblivion of sleep beckoned as he collapsed onto his bed, stopping just long
enough to get out of his pants and dress shirt, but falling into a deep slumber before he
could take off his undershirt and boxers to sleep naked, as was his custom lately.
Calling up bittersweet memories of Amy and all the other women he had
pleasurably had in this bed, he shut his eyes and let the waves of sleep wash over him.
********
He knew he was dreaming, in that funny way you can sort of step outside of your
thoughts, check in with reality, and then delve back into the dream. And this was
definitely a dream he wanted to keep going.
Donna was wearing a red elf costume, trimmed with white fur, sucking on a
candy cane as she crawled on all fours up Josh’s bed. He drew her closer to him by
grabbing the hook of the candy cane and gently pulling until he could touch it with his
own tongue.
It tasted of sugar and peppermint, but he was overcome with a desire to taste
something else less sweet but far sweeter. With infinite tenderness, he eased the candy
out of her mouth and replaced it with his lips, picking up the last residue of mint along
with the intoxicating tang of Donna.
Her hands drifted down his naked body, sculpting his abs with soft fingers and
lightly squeezing his nipples so that he gasped against her lips. Then he thought he had
died, as her deft touch drifted much further south.
Needing to feel her skin rubbing against his, Josh reached out and began to tear
off the elf costume—taking a moment to give thanks that her ears hadn’t gone pointy
along with the rest of the outfit. As she stroked his cock to jutting hardness he nibbled on
the shell of her ear, then dragged his tongue down the side of her neck, hopefully leaving
plenty of hickeys in his wake. He loved the satisfying rip of fabric only to enjoy even
more the way Donna’s breasts spilled out into his waiting hands.
Before he could begin to lave the sensitive peaks with an eager tongue, his head
fell back in absolute ecstasy. Donna’s mouth dragged along his cock, teasing with her
teeth and licking with her tongue as if she had found a much better cane to suck.
Then, just when he thought he might explode in her mouth, she straddled him,
grabbing the headboard behind him so that she could enjoy the perfect ride. The feelings
shooting through his body were incredible, but even in his delusional state, he knew it
was more than fucking, more than sex. It was something different, something finer.
She softly cried into his ear as the climax erupted for them both.
“Josh…Josh…god, you…yes….Josh!” she panted.
His cries of “Donna…Donna!” matched hers and when the crisis came, he found
himself hypnotised by crystal blue eyes surrounding tiny flecks of gold.
Head pounding, Josh slowly lifted his head off of his pillow. Aw man, he’d
drooled. Nasty. He walked to the bathroom to wash up and drink gallons of water only
to find he had to resort to cupping his hands under the tap.
As he made his way back to bed, reminding himself to definitely change the
sheets in the morning when he was alive again, he looked at the clock on his bedside
table. It read 3:25AM. He looked out towards the kitchen and the rest of his empty
apartment, weighed down by loneliness and exhaustion.
“Well, it’s Christmas Eve,” he muttered to himself, his voice scratchy. “The most
magical night of the year…whatever that means.” Stretching so that his joints popped in
the darkness, he took one last look out the length of his apartment to the window outside.
“Merry Christmas, Donna,” he whispered. “Maybe next year…”
Maybe next time, I’ll win.
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! JOYEUX NOEL! NOW LET’S GET DRUNK!!!
Feedback, as always, is the only thing that makes me write more of this stuff!!
ballynihinch@hotmail.com