Donna thought it had been a fairly good morning: her stomach felt more or less back to normal, her leg wasn’t throbbing beneath the heavy cast, and her dreams about Josh had left her with a tiny spark of hope rather than regret.
Maybe, she thought, it was time for *her* to make some kind of concession. Maybe that’s what it would take to finally get the ball rolling between them again. Plus, if things worked out, she could use the fact that she had been the one to bring them together as a guilt trip for, oh, maybe the next forty years or so.
Then the phone rang.
Carol must have forgotten to unplug it before she left for work – or, maybe, it was a sign that the time for punishing Josh had come to an end.
Whatever the reason, the phone was working and ringing.
Josh. It had to be him. Fate just clicked that way some times. She did her best not to smile as she picked up, though she knew her eyes were shining brightly as she waited to her his voice in her ear.
“Hello?”
“Donna?”
“Yes?”
“It’s Colin.”
She paused, momentarily struck dumb. “Colin? This – this isn’t my apartment. How did you get this number?”
“Is it not your flat, then? I thought perhaps not.”
“No. It’s a friend of mine’s. I’ve been staying with her for the past we…for a while.”
“Josh came by yesterday and gave me your number. Is it too early to have rung?”
Her mouth fell open. “Josh?” she squeaked. “Josh did that?”
“Aye, he came by last night.”
Shaking her head, she tried to get a handle on the situation. “Colin, where exactly are you?”
“I’m here in D.C. No one told you, did they?”
“No. No one did.” She hesitated for just a moment before asking the dreadful question building up inside of her. “Why would Josh go and see you himself?”
Colin laughed softly into the phone. Once, his throaty chuckle might have turned her on. Now, it only made her grip the phone tighter as her world crumbled beneath her feet – again.
“He wanted to make sure I had your number at this friend’s flat, so that I could ring up.”
“I’m sorry, Colin. I’ve been sick with the flu this week and I don’t know if I heard you right. Did you say that Josh *wanted* to give you my number?”
“Yes, that’s it. Are you up to visitors? I want to see you.”
Her eyes had darted about the room as she tried to think of an excuse. “Oh, Colin. I don’t know. I’m not feeling very social today.”
“Really? I’m sorry to hear that. Josh didn’t mention at all that you’d been ill.”
Her lips narrowed into a thin white line. “I’m sure he didn’t. Colin, I have to – I have to go. Could you maybe call back tomorrow or something?”
“So you will see me before I go?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding her head firmly. “Of course, I will. Just not today, okay?”
“Grand. I’ll be in touch. Don’t go anywhere.”
“I won’t,” she said, giving a small, sad smile to the empty room. Another time, another life, he would have been perfect for her.
Donna hung up the phone and then stared at it, unable to move, frozen in fury.
So Josh was not only finished with her, but now he felt it his duty to hand her back to another man?
That asshole.
********
Josh swaggered into CJ’s office just before 10am. Carol wasn’t at her desk and he knew Sam was sequestered inside. It was a perfect opportunity. He’d waited as long as he could after staff to corner her – now that the majority of his morning workload was out of the way, he had at least twenty minutes to focus solely on Donna. It wasn’t nearly enough time, but it was a start.
“Okay,” he announced, shutting the door as he went in, “Phase Two of the Master Plan O’Woo. Hit me with it.”
CJ glanced over to where Sam sat on her couch and gave him a look. Then they both stared at Josh.
“We’re going to smuggle you into Carol’s apartment,” she said plainly.
“Excuse me?”
“We’re going to smuggle you in,” she repeated. “Like booty.”
Josh began to laugh. “Nice one, CJ. In fact, I’ll pay you twenty bucks right now if you’ll break into ‘I am a Pirate King’ from ‘Pinafore’.”
Sam raised a finger. “It’s from ‘Penzance’.”
“Oh, for the love of God,” Josh groaned, “not this again.”
“I’m serious! It’s from ‘Penzance.’ I am sure beyond a shadow of a doubt.”
“Sam, there are times when I seriously worry about you.”
“Thanks.”
CJ threw up her hands, getting their attention. “Gilbert? Sullivan? A little focus here, please? We were talking about my plan.”
This time when Josh laughed, it had more of a nervous note to it. “You’re kidding, right? You’re not *actually* going to smuggle me in there?”
They looked at him.
“Oh my God,” he said, slumping into a chair, “you are, aren’t you?”
CJ smiled graciously from her seat behind the desk. “This is going to work. I’ll go in a bit and arrange things with Carol.”
“What? You’ll confront the dragon? Are you nuts?”
“You told Colin about Donna last night, so it would be natural for him to want to go and see her, right?”
“Yes, and that’s why your plan from last night sucked!”
“But we’re going to show up with *you* instead,” she continued. “I’ll tell Carol to let the doorman know that Colin’s coming and that he’s on a tight schedule. She’ll tell the guy downstairs he’s expected and no one will be suspicious. One quick nod to the guard and you’re in! We’ll get you in and out before anyone’s the wiser.”
“I’m going to be your wingman!” Sam piped up.
Josh stared at him in disbelief. “And do what? Fire at the storm troopers while I take out the Death Star?”
Wilting at Josh’s brusque tone, Sam slunk down a bit into the couch. “You know,” he said, “for someone who desperately needs help, you’re being awfully testy.”
Josh’s jaw opened and then shut as he swallowed back whatever quip was coming next. Nodding, he looked down at his shoes. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“How are you at accents, Josh?” CJ asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Can you do a British accent?”
“Let me see…*Oh yes, verrra goud young mahn, verra goud*…How was that?”
Sam clapped a hand over his eyes; CJ, meanwhile, looked like she might be ill. “What the hell was that?” she croaked “God! That’s just awful. Never do that again when I’m in the room. Seriously. You sound like that crap villain from ‘Billy Madison’!”
“You saw that?” Sam asked.
“Sadly, yes. I much prefer ‘Wayne’s World’ for mindless juvenile entertainment.”
“Me too,” he agreed. “It was just funnier.”
“And the bad guy in that – the Rob Lowe character? – he just cracked me up.”
Sam beamed. “Yeah, he was really good. Not like the guy in ‘Billy Madison’.”
“Exactly! That was painful to watch – the ‘Business Ethics’ thing? Ouch.” CJ grimaced and shook her head at the memory.
At last, Josh had had enough. “Guys! Hello?”
CJ gave him a quick look and then went back to Sam. “You’re going to have to work on his accent, Spanky. It’s a must if he’s going to get past security.”
“No kidding,” Sam sighed.
“In fact,” she continued, “maybe it’s better if you don’t let him talk to anyone before he gets up to the apartment unless it’s *absolutely necessary*.”
“I’ll do my best, but you know what he’s like.”
“Hey!” Josh protested. “I’m right here!” Huffing loudly, he crossed his arms and glared at them both. “Here’s a question for you two: what happens if Colin *does* go and see Donna? That could get kind of confusing.”
CJ’s face fell.
“Oh,” she muttered. “Right. Damn.”
A silence descended on the office. CJ got up and sprinkled some fish food in Gail’s bowl. Just as she was snapping the lid back on the bottle, she figured it out. “Wait! I’ve got it!”
Now Josh looked very worried.
“Yes?”
“I’ll run interference. I’ll call and offer Colin an exclusive inside view of the West Wing at the same time that you two go to the apartment.”
“But he’s a photojournalist,” Josh pointed out. “He wouldn’t care.”
“Well, he could at least take a meeting with me. I *am* the White House Press Secretary.”
Josh still looked sceptical. “What do you think, Sam?”
He shrugged his shoulders, but his eyes were bright. “I guess if you’re on thin ice, you might as well dance.”
“Are you *on* something?” Josh sputtered.
“Never mind about Sam,” CJ interjected. “I’ll keep the boyfriend away from Carol’s place – and away from Donna. You just worry about your end of things, okay?”
Josh shook his head. “This is totally insane.”
“Can you think of anything better?”
“How long do I have?”
CJ came out from behind the desk and sat just in front of Josh. “Look,” she said earnestly, “if you can come up with something better by noon, we’ll back off. If not—”
“If not, there’s nothing else, is there?” he finished for her.
“Don’t forget, Josh, this is all just a ploy to get you inside that building. Once you’re there with her, what happens is up to you. Maybe you should focus on that for a while. Stop sweating the small stuff.”
He nodded, taking in her words. “Just let me think, okay?” he said finally.
“Sure.”
Getting up slowly, he exhaled deeply and then went back to his office. Sam and CJ watched him leave. Stretching out on the couch, he smiled at her. “CJ? Do you ever get the feeling that you and I should be running covert ops for the CIA?”
“All the time, Spanky. All the time.”
********
I sat in my office, staring at the phone.
I didn’t need CJ and Sam’s stealth booty thing – I could fix things between me and Donna right now. All I had to do was pick up the phone and hope like hell that the line wasn’t unplugged on her end.
Slowly, I dialled the number.
Well, I thought, here’s hoping.
She picked up after two rings. I couldn’t believe it.
“Hello?”
For a good three seconds, I was speechless. It was so amazing to hear her voice again. It was something I had taken for granted for too long. Now, a week after having last heard her speak, I realised how much I’d been craving the sound of her saying…well, anything, really.
Then it hit me that she was going to hang up if I didn’t start talking.
“Donna! Wow, you picked up. It’s me.”
Subtle, yet poised, I thought.
“Josh. You shouldn’t be calling here.”
I sighed. “We’re not still doing this, are we?”
“Doing what?” She paused and I didn’t know whether to answer her or not. “Doing *what*, Josh?”
“This?”
I thought she sounded tired. I knew she’d been sick, but there was something else. Could she still be pissed at me? Like, *really* angry?
“And what would that be?” she continued. “The thing where you think you have the right to dictate my life to me?”
Woah. Okay, so she was definitely still mad at me. But I could fix it!
“Donna, just let me explain!”
“You don’t have to explain anything. I understand everything now. You want me out of your life and that’s just fine with me.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“I know what you did, Josh.”
That was funny, because I certainly didn’t.
“Wait!” I stammered. “Stop! You don’t—”
“No, you stop! I don’t want to hear it. If you’re so eager for me to date Colin again, consider it done. Whatever you want, Josh. Then again, it’s always been that way, hasn’t it? You always get what you want.”
Fucking hell.
Now I knew what she thought I had done. But that wasn’t it at all! I gave him her damn phone number so she would *trust* me again!
But, before I could get all that out, she cut me off again.
“You are such an asshole,” she seethed.
“Donna…”
“Josh? Fuck off.”
I still had the receiver pressed against my ear for long seconds after she had slammed the phone down.
Holybleedingjesusfuckingchrist.
Okay, this was bad. Very, very bad.
********
He slowly walked into CJ’s office as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Sam was still on the couch, but it was CJ who sprang forward to Josh’s side, as though she might have to catch him in the next few seconds before he collapsed on the floor.
“Josh! Oh my God! What happened?”
He shook his head, looking like someone had just shot his puppy. “I screwed up – again. I’ve got nothing left.”
Looking first at CJ and then at Sam, he sighed and then tried to straighten his shoulders. “What time do we storm the castle?” he asked.
CJ squeezed his upper arms to give him strength. “I’ll go talk to Carol right now,” she said, and then dashed off in search of her assistant.
Standing up, Sam walked over and slung an arm around Josh’s shoulders, like any good wingman.
“Come on, Josh. Let’s go down to the mess. I’ll buy you some french fries.”
********
***…Then they set off for Tintagel and came to the Castle in the twilight. The moment the guard was told that his leader was approaching, he opened the gate and let the men in. Who, indeed, could possibly have suspected anything, once it was thought that Gorlois himself had come?***
I was all set to head straight over to Carol’s place by the end of the day. Then the White House was crashed because of some stupid college prank and the plan was delayed for one more night. I wasn’t happy about it but, as the heavily armed security agent informed me repeatedly, I had no other choice.
And after that disastrous phone call, maybe a little distance between Pissed Off Donna and Woman-About-to-be-Wooed Donna was a good thing.
A day and a half after Donna had hung up on me, I was more than ready to go for Round Three of trying to convince her that I wasn’t a jerk.
We got to Carol’s just after sunset.
The sky was red. I didn’t know if that was a good sign or not.
Sam turned to me just before we got out of his car – we’d brought his because if things went badly, the last thing I’d want to do was drive.
“Happy thoughts,” he smiled, punching my arm.
“Let’s go,” I muttered, girding my loins for battle.
Once we got past the glass doors in the front foyer, I ignored the plants and cheesy artwork on the walls and focused on the security door straight ahead, just past the porter’s desk. The guy standing behind the desk had grey hair and a bushy moustache and was wearing a godawful burgundy blazer straight out of the Seventies. He kind of reminded me of Sam the Eagle from The Muppet Show.
Don’t ask me why I can name Muppets. I just can. I blame it on hanging around Sam for too many years.
The guard nodded at us from behind the counter. “Can I help you?”
I decided to let Sam do the talking, mainly because even *I* knew the Irish accent I had going on was horrendous.
“My name is Sam Seaborn. I’ve brought a guest for Miss Moss – she’s the young woman staying with Carol Fitzpatrick.”
Young woman, huh? Donna would like hearing that.
The guy smiled. “Of course. Mr Ayres, is it? From Ireland? Ms Fitzpatrick called ahead to let me know you’d be arriving.”
I smiled in what I hoped was a fetching Irish way and nodded, but didn’t say a word.
Suddenly, the old guy broke into a grin of his own – the universal opener to ‘small talk with a foreigner’.
I shouldn’t have smiled.
“You know,” he said, “I have some Irish roots, myself. Where abouts are you from?”
“Belfast,” I said quickly, opening my mouth as little as possible. Maybe that would help the accent.
“Up in the north, huh? Never been there. I went to Dublin, back in 1971.”
At this point, I started glaring at Sam. Couldn’t he see that I was getting into some serious trouble here, what with the fact that my faux-Irish accent sucked and the guard wanted to chit chat? Some wingman he was turning out to be.
In the end, I had to nudge him to clue him back into reality.
“Uh…sorry,” Sam stammered, “but we’re on a bit of a tight schedule. Is it possible to buzz him through?”
“Right! Sure! Of course!” Mr Gatekeeper pressed a button on the console and waved us through the security door with a loud buzz. “I’ll call and let Miss Moss know to expect you both.”
“Actually,” Sam said, “only Colin here is going up. I’m not staying.” His voice dropped down to a lower register as he spoke to me. “Call me if you need me, buddy.”
I nodded.
Sam waited while I opened the door. When I turned back, he flashed me a hopeful grin and a rather obvious thumbs-up.
“Nice to meet you, Mr Ayres!”
Looking over my shoulder, I smiled again and gave him the only line I had worked on all day: “Ta, verra mouch.”
God, that really *was* bad, wasn’t it?
Then I walked quickly to the elevators.
An actor I was not – but I had a feeling that Donna wouldn’t want any playacting once I got upstairs.
It was time for the real thing.
********
***He had deceived her by the disguise which he had taken. He had deceived her, too, by the lying things that he said to her, things which he planned with great skill. He said that he had come out secretly from his besieged encampment so that he might make sure that all was well with her, whom he loved so dearly…***
The door to the apartment was slightly open, as though she was expecting me. Or, rather, expecting Colin. The charade was about to end. I just hoped she’d let me get a word in edgewise before throwing me out.
Fat chance.
Despite the fact that the front door was ajar, I knocked anyway.
“Come in!”
My chest tightened a bit at the sound of her voice, so close after so long. It had been too long. Up until that night when I had walked in on her, naked in my bathtub, I hadn’t allowed myself to realise how absolutely central Donna was to my life. Now I couldn’t wait to tell her exactly what she meant to me.
Walking in, I saw her sitting on the couch, watching CNN. ‘Crossfire’ was on. I hated Tucker Carlson’s bowtie. He was a dick. It didn’t have the least bit of Tony Bennett coolness about it.
I closed the door behind me, letting it click shut before saying anything.
“Hello,” I said softly.
The TV remote clattered to the floor. She gripped the back of the couch and turned towards me. “Josh!”
“Yeah,” I shrugged.
She struggled to her feet and stared at me. “Oh my god! OH MY GOD! How did you get in?”
“The doorman thought I was Colin.”
Her eyes grew to the size of saucers. I’d never really seen that happen before – I’d only heard about it – and it didn’t exactly help my confidence factor.
“What the HELL—?”
I cut her off. “I had to come. I *had* to come,” I repeated.
“What did you do to Colin?”
“Nothing, I swear! CJ’s showing him around the office.”
She scoffed at that. “He covers the Middle East. Why would he care?”
“I doubt he does. But he’s there and you’re here and now I’m here.”
For a while we just looked at each other; I don’t know for how long. I didn’t care. I just feasted on her like a starving man. I hadn’t moved too far past the door, so she was still a good ten feet away from me.
She was wearing light blue pyjama bottoms and a white tank top that had seen better days. She looked cute. Her hair was in one of those weird half-up, half-down pony-tail things she often did. I wanted to run my hands through it and muss it all up.
Then it struck me that she was standing and there was no cast-shape bulge beneath her romper pants. What the hell?
“Your cast is gone,” I said.
“They took it off this morning.”
“Did it hurt?”
“Josh – ”
“I’m just asking.”
Finally, she made up her mind about me. I could tell the instant it happened: something froze over in her eyes.
“I want you to go,” she said forcefully, taking a step towards me.
She wasn’t even going to give me a chance to say anything? That wasn’t fair. “Really?”
“Really.”
I put my hands up, surrendering. “Can I just say something first?”
“Make it fast,” she muttered.
“Ah-kay.” God, my mouth was dry. “Can I have a glass of water?”
“I don’t believe this!” she snapped, rolling her eyes. I took that as a sign to make a dash for the kitchenette just to my left. I opened a cupboard, looking for a glass. First time lucky. Pouring some water, I gulped a bit down and then carried the rest out with me.
She was glaring at me when I came back. “My throat was dry,” I said pointedly. “I’ve been doing Irish accents all day, just in case…”
“In case of what?”
“In case I needed to use one downstairs.”
Donna crossed her arms beneath her breasts, plumping them slightly against the cotton tank-top. I did my absolute best not to stare. “How was it?”
“How was what?” So much for the staring – I was a goner.
“The accent? Let me hear it.”
“Trust me,” I sighed, “you don’t want to.”
“Josh,” she warned.
“Fine! *Noh patti-fingherrrrs hif yuh playse.* How’s that?”
She winced. “Dreadful.”
“No kidding. Sam had me watching ‘The Quiet Man’ all of last night. It didn’t help. I have no ear for dialects.”
“I know,” she said. “You’re from Connecticut.”
“Watch it!”
“Josh. You’re stalling.”
“Maybe.” Taking a deep breath, I walked up and set the glass of water down on the coffee table. When I turned to face her I was close enough to reach out and touch her.
“I have something to tell you.” It was now or never. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” she asked.
“For everything.”
She glared at me. “You are such an ASSHOLE!”
I rushed to fix things. “The dating Colin thing wasn’t my idea! I hated doing it.”
“I’ll just bet!”
“No, seriously! Come on, Donna! I’m dying here! It was all part of the Mighty Master Plan O’Woo.”
She looked at me like I was crazy. I think I was.
“The what?”
“Ah, hell! I’m still screwing this up!” I ran my fingers through my hair, totally tongue-tied and frustrated. Then I looked at her tank top and became even more frustrated, but for an entirely different reason.
“I think – I think you should go.”
I might have gone at that point, if I hadn’t heard the hitch in her voice as she spoke.
“No, wait, Donna. You don’t understand!”
“Understand what, Josh? That you lied to me about Colin? That you were absolutely amazing that night at your place and then totally wrecked it? You made me doubt you, Joshua! Do you have any idea how much that hurt? And now you want to apologize for not wanting me anymore. It’s pathetic! You can just stop. I don’t need any more humiliation heaped on me. You’ve done a stellar job already.”
My mouth hung open.
I wasn’t crazy. *She* was!
“Not want you?” I yelled. “Are you crazy? This is all ABOUT wanting you!”
“But—”
I grabbed her arm. “Donna! Don’t you get it? I love you!”
Next thing I knew, the left side of my face was stinging. I hadn’t seen the slap coming, but I kind of expected it all the same.
Still, it meant she had to feel *something* for me, right?
“Violence is never the answer, there, Donna,” I muttered, rubbing my cheek. It felt like I had an imprint of her hand on my jaw.
“Funny,” she quipped, “because with you it’s so damn tempting.”
I just looked at her.
She started to crack a bit. “Josh – you don’t mean that. You can’t.”
“What?”
“You CAN’T!” she yelped. Then she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle anything else that might slip out.
“Yes,” I said, nodding and gazing at her, “I can. I do. I want you so much. That’s why all this happened. I saw you in that bed after the explosion and I couldn’t breathe because I needed you. It was like I wanted to put you inside my shirt and carry you around so that no one could ever get to you ever again.”
“Like a kitten?” she asked. Her voice had gone all soft there for a second.
Time to press my bets.
“Maybe. Kind of.”
I moved closer to her. I had to.
“Then Colin walked in.” I sighed. “I don’t know what happened, but something inside me just snapped – and it’s still snapping. It’s making me be an impulsive, irrational asshole who walks in on women in the bath tub and gets smuggled into a stranger’s apartment and who will listen to *any* harebrained scheme if there’s even a thread of a chance it’ll let me touch you again.”
She let her head hang down so that her hair covered her face. “You hurt me,” she whispered.
I was reaching to push the blond strands away from her cheeks, but her words stopped me.
“I didn’t mean to,” I said sadly. “If it makes you feel any better, I hurt me, too.”
When she looked up at me her eyes were glassy with unshed tears.
Man, had I ever fucked this up.
“You didn’t trust me.”
I looked down at my shoes. “No. I didn’t. I was stupid. But you’d slipped through my fingers so many times before! I—”
I broke off, sick of hearing myself make excuses.
“Donna, I was an idiot. But I *do* love you. I—I just wanted you to know that. I wanted to say it to you. I was worried about you. I had to see you, to see how you really are. And now I have.”
I turned and walked towards the door. “Goodnight.”
“Josh!”
I froze, my back towards her. “Yes?”
“You’re STILL being an asshole!” she screeched.
That made me turn back. “I am?”
She just looked at me, her arms crossed in front of her like a shield, sheltering her from my stupidity.
“Are you really going to leave me?” she gasped.
“God, Donna!”
I had her in my arms the next instant.
Her lips met mine and I lost myself in the taste of her, the feel of her moving against me. I plundered her mouth – there was no other word for it. I was trying to say so much and say it without words and this was the best way I knew how.
I felt her fingers snake through my hair and hold me close; I tightened my grip on her, desperate to make her a part of me.
A total lack of oxygen parted us at last. We panted briefly and then I had to have her again. Her lips were so soft, so warm; her tongue was slick against mine, inciting me to madness. I moved down, wanting to taste the smoothness of her neck. Just before I reached her shoulder, she pulled me away, her hands cupping my face, peering into my eyes.
“You said it,” she breathed. “You meant it!”
Nodding like an idiot, I kissed her again. “I did. I do.”
She began to laugh. I thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world. “Who are you and what have you done with Josh Lyman?” she giggled.
“Cute.”
“I *am* cute.”
Smiling wolfishly, I pulled her hard against me. “Let me show you just how much,” I growled. “Where’s your room?”
“Here.”
“Here?”
She gestured to the couch. “It’s a pull-out.”
“You’re kidding me.”
I broke away from her to get a better look at the proposed boudoir. The couch was an old brown corduroy disaster. Carol must have gotten it at some garage sale – in about 1976.
“Is it comfy?” I asked, saying the first thing that came into my head.
“It’s not bad. It’s better when you pull it out.”
“I bet.”
I stood in front of it, sizing up the enemy. This could get interesting.
“Where’s Carol?” I asked, scratching my head.
“Still at work.”
Donna had slowly walked up behind me. Now she was slipping her hands into the back of my jeans. Her hands were small, but man, could they do great things.
“Careful,” I teased. “That’s some smuggled booty you’re fondling there.”
“What?”
“Nevermind.”
Reaching behind me, I grabbed her ass – not an easy thing to do, given how bad my balance usually was – and pulled her into me so that I could feel her breasts and hips pressing into my back. With one foot I began to push the coffee table out of the way.
“Do me a favour?”
“What?” Her voice was already getting low and sultry.
“Unplug the phone.” I pinched her thigh, making her jump a bit, and then disentangled myself so that I could pull out the bed.
If there was a rule somewhere about not having sex on the pull out couch of a White House assistant while said assistant was still at the White House, it was about to get seriously broken.
What Carol didn’t know would never hurt her.
********
***The King spent that night with Ygerna and satisfied his desire by making love with her… ***
He started by peeling off her shirt.
She wasn’t wearing a bra and she heard his gasp of pleasure as he saw just, well, *her*.
“It’s not like you haven’t seen them before,” she giggled.
He looked at her and blinked slowly. “Donna. You obviously don’t appreciate or understand the beauty that is the naked female body.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. Lose the pants.”
She snorted, laughing despite herself. “Wow, Josh. You really are the master of woo.”
That brought out the dimples.
“Haven’t I been telling you that all this time?” He fingered the elastic band at the top of her pyjama bottoms. “Can I touch?”
“You better.”
Very slowly, with infinite tenderness, he knelt before her and pulled the bottoms down to the floor, leaving them in a puddle about her feet and coming face to face with her black cotton panties.
His eyes travelled down from her crotch to all that alabaster skin. Rocking back on his heels, he surveyed the damage left by the accident. She stood absolutely still while he stared at her leg.
She already knew what it looked like: there was a rough, red scar winding its way from her inner thigh to the outside of her knee. A separate gash bisected her calf in the opposite direction. The doctors had assured her only that morning that the redness would fade in time. Already, she thought it looked more pink than red at the outer edges. There was some bruising left by the cast and rough patches of skin where the plaster had rubbed her raw.
Still, she was more or less whole.
“They say that I should get full mobility back in a few months,” she said, fingering the top of the scar. “I need to go to physio for a while – a year, maybe more. I’m not going to be dancing the can-can anytime soon.”
“Does it hurt?” he asked softly.
“No. It just feels – I don’t know – kind of weird.”
He nodded. “I get it.” Looking up into her eyes, he let his mouth curve into a small smile. “Really, I do.”
Her fingers grazed the top of his ear. “You’re maybe the only person I know who would.”
“Can you feel this?” He ran a finger down the top half of the scar.
She shrugged her shoulders. “I can see you doing it.”
“Close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Close them, Donna. Please?”
She gasped when he put his lips on her scar. One of his hands gripped her hip, holding her steady, while the other played with her bruised calf, stroking it in a slow circular motion. With her eyes closed, each sensation was deliciously heightened.
“Oh, Josh.”
He heard her call his name and grinned, but didn’t stop what he was doing. He sipped at her skin, laving the raised areas with the flat of his tongue, running his hand up to tease the back of her knee. Her hands clutched at his shoulders. He knew the instant that her balance began to desert her.
“Donna,” he whispered huskily. “Lie down.”
She backed up onto the white sheets of the pull-out. Throwing him an amused look, she wondered aloud about what was going to happen as she sat down: “Are we really going to do this…here?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
Biting her lip, she looked around the room. It was still early evening – Carol wouldn’t be back for hours yet. “I can’t think of anything,” she admitted.
“Well, then. Consider this another phase in my master plan.”
“The Master Plan O’Woo?”
“Damn straight.”
He was about to push her down onto the rather lumpy mattress when she stopped him.
“Josh. I’ve had an idea.”
“What?” he asked, looking slightly pained at the thought of not having her immediately.
“Lose the shirt,” she smiled.
“Really?”
“Oh yeah. I’ve pictured you ravishing me in nothing but jeans for a while now.”
Taking a moment to slip off his shoes and socks, he then stood over her and pulled off his shirt as quickly as possible. “Have I ever told you, Donnatella, that you have a fabulous mind?”
“Not nearly often enough.”
“Well, you do.”
Her eyes focused briefly on the scar that split his chest in two. He fingered it lightly, looking at her newly-bared leg. “We’re kind of a pair now,” he chuckled, “aren’t we?”
“I guess so.” Her cheeks flushed and she looked away from him, suddenly rather bashful.
Kneeling down so that he was between her legs, he smiled and hooked his thumbs into the thin fabric of her underwear. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to get us matching t-shirts.”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head; then her eyes widened as he slowly pulled her panties off and began to kiss her legs once more. Lying back, she relaxed under his masterful touch, letting her body melt wherever his lips caressed her.
Just when he was nibbling the inside of her thighs, she realised that something was missing.
“Josh! Stop!”
He reared up, panicking instantly. “What? What’s wrong? What is it?”
“I forgot.”
“Forgot what?”
Her hand came down to stroke his cheek, tracing the line from his hair to the bottom of his jaw. “I love you, too.”
His mouth hung open a bit. “Oh. Really?”
“Yeah.” Tears came to her eyes and she tried to blink them away.
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then he gave her the cockiest grin ever and whispered, “About time you said it back.”
“Josh!”
She was about to bat him playfully about the ears, but he leaned in and began to kiss her folds and she let her hand fall to her side instead, clutching at the cotton sheet beneath her.
“Ohmigod,” she whispered, arching against his mouth.
He had done this before, in the darkness of his bedroom; this time, however, it felt completely different. This time she knew how he felt, she didn’t have to guess, and that made all the difference.
He loved her with his mouth, boldly exploring every inch of her, tasting, nuzzling, opening, licking. Then his teeth found her clit and the entire world focused in on that single point of pleasure ruling her body. Her hands ran through his hair, holding him close as she wrapped her legs around his shoulders, pulling him as near as possible. He lifted her up, cupping her ass, his fingers gripping at her flesh as he sucked at the tiny nub of nerves.
She wanted to stay that way forever, feeling him touching her so intimately, making her feel so wanted and beautiful and sensual and hot. Just as she thought it though, everything changed and became slick and then she was crying out as the pleasure pulsed in her and through her and around her.
“Josh! God, Joooosh!”
He didn’t stop until every last wave had crashed down upon her. When he looked up and their eyes met, he was equally bashful and proud, knowing he had taken her to such a place.
All she did was open her arms and then he was there, on top of her, kissing her with everything in him.
“Do we need –?” he asked, breaking away and panting.
She shook her head pre-emptively. “I just want you.”
“Ah-kay.”
The sound of his zipper being undone was perhaps the sexiest thing she had ever heard in her life.
Sitting up, she helped him pull off the denim jeans, revelling in the fact that she was now able to give back to him all that he had given to her.
“Josh! You’re not wearing any underwear!”
The dimples came out in full force and she felt butterflies fluttering about her stomach as he grinned at her.
“I knew I forgot something when I changed this afternoon!”
“You’re incorrigible,” she whispered, turning on the sultry vocals. Crooking one finger at him, she motioned him to come closer. “Come here,” she murmured.
With a happy little smile she reached out and touched him, curling her fingers around his rock-hard erection. He whimpered a bit and then let his head fall back as she found a few drops at his tip and spread them around with her thumb.
She was just leaning down to taste him when he pulled her away. “Donna, you shouldn’t. What about your leg?”
“It doesn’t hurt. Watch.”
He could only look on with wide eyes as she curled her good leg beneath her and bent down to take him in her mouth.
“Ghaaaaaaaaad,” he groaned, as her lips ran up and down his shaft. She played with him briefly, letting her tongue bathe his length with soft, licking strokes before pulling back and kissing her way up his chest.
The feel of her mouth on his nipples and her hands down below was nearly enough to drive him mad.
“Now,” he said at last, finally finding the powers of speech again. “Now?”
“Now,” she nodded.
Lying back, she let her feet dangle over the edge of the pull-out and pulled him down on top of her.
“I need to feel you on me,” she sighed, before kissing him deeply.
“Like this?” he asked, rolling his hips against hers.
“Yeah. God.”
Grabbing hold of his cock, he rubbed the head against her folds, coating himself in her wetness, before sliding in. He wanted to go slowly, he knew she needed him to go slowly, but God help him, once he felt her honeyed warmth, he was lost.
With one quick thrust, he buried himself to the hilt. She screamed and rolled her hips up, wanting to trap the sensation.
“Are you okay?” he asked hurriedly. “Did I hurt you?”
“No. Not at all.” She ran her hands over his wide back, reassuring him through touch as well as words.
“I can’t believe this,” he whispered, rocking against her.
“Me either. Don’t stop.”
He speeded up with every thrust, pulling out so that he almost left her and then ramming himself home again. When he felt her hips begin to rise to meet his thrusts, he rested his weight on one arm and reached down between them, finding her clit with eager fingers and rubbing it in tight circles.
She panted in his ear and devoured his mouth, jousting with his tongue in time to the rhythm of their hips. Moving her good leg high up onto his back, she changed the angle of his penetration, making them both sigh and hitch their breath.
“G-God, I’m close,” she moaned. He let his fingers flick madly between her legs. All finesse was gone, replaced by something finer, something sweeter, something that was just…just them.
Then she clamped down around him, crying out, squeezing him with her inner muscles, coaxing, teasing, demanding that he join her. Two more thrusts and then he was there with her, throwing himself over the edge again and again and again.
Losing himself.
Finding himself.
Finding her.
He collapsed on top of her, resting his head against her slick breasts, and wrapping his arms about her so that she was tightly pressed against him.
“God, I love you,” he groaned.
He could hear her smile rather than see it. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Me too.”
********
“So here’s what I’m thinking.”
“Yes?”
“I should call Sam and he should come and get us and drive us back to my place.”
Donna eased up on one elbow and looked down into my face. “Sam knows about this?”
“Who do you think brought me here?”
“You didn’t drive yourself?”
“He’s my wingman.”
Damn. I think my voice went really high at the end of that.
She pursed her lips a bit and then smiled. “You really aren’t comfortable on the couch, are you?”
I sighed. “Not really. This one spring is really digging into my back.”
“No, Josh!” She swatted at my bare chest before laughing. “I mean here – at Carol’s.”
“Oh yeah. We’ve gotta get out of here. You know me and my streak of bad luck. She’s bound to come in here any second and find us…en flagrante.” I wiggled my eyebrows for emphasis and Donna dissolved into giggles again.
God, it felt so good making her laugh – and making love to her. We had lazed about on the pull-out for a good hour, not saying anything, just sharing space, with our hands linked together and her head pillowed on my chest.
It felt good. It felt right.
I was so fucking lucky.
Really, I could have screwed this up so badly.
“I almost lost you,” I whispered, not quite realising I’d said it out loud until it was done.
Donna’s eyes grew glassy with tears as she looked at me. “I thought you had,” she replied softly. “I thought – it doesn’t matter anymore, but I thought…it was over.”
I shook my head. “Never.”
“How are we going to do this, Josh? What’s next?”
Good question.
“Well,” I drawled, “first thing is a well-timed phone call to CJ, otherwise she’d have my head on a plate. And then…I dunno. We just ride it out, maybe?”
Snaking her arms around me, she snuggled against my chest. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
Wow. I was *so* Da Man!
One of her hands began to snake down from making circles around my stomach to stroking my cock. It felt so good, but it had to stop. Sneaking into Carol’s had been great for a memorable first time, but I wasn’t too keen to do it again on the pull-out sofa. I wanted to take my time *and* be comfortable, which meant we had to relocate as soon as possible.
“Donna?” I asked, pressing kisses against her hair.
“Mmmm?”
“I’m gonna go call Sam, okay?”
“Okay.”
Rolling off the lumpy mattress from hell, I made a beeline for my jeans and snagged my cell out of the pocket.
Sam picked up after the first ring. “Josh?”
“Sam! I need you to come and get us.”
His voice was tinny in my ear. “Oh lord, she kicked you out, didn’t she?”
“What are you talking about? No, things are fine. But I need you to come and get us and drive us back to my place…sooner rather than later.”
“I’ll be right there. I’m just a block or two away.”
And then, right on schedule, I heard a key scraping in the lock on the door.
Shit.
“Tonto? Make that pronto!” I slammed the phone shut and stared at the door. This wasn’t happening. Even I’m not *that* frickin’ psychic.
Donna sat straight up in bed. “Josh!” she hissed. “It’s Carol!”
“No kidding!” I shot back, panicking a fair bit myself.
“Quick! Your pants!”
“Shit!”
I looked down and tried to scramble into my jeans. The last thing I needed was for Carol to come into her living room and see Full Frontal Josh. Not my idea of fun.
I don’t think I’ve ever zipped up my pants so quickly before in my life. It was a miracle I didn’t do myself serious injury, really. The things a man does for love can be quite dangerous, you know.
Donna had managed to put on her tank top during all of this, but I was going to have to help her with the pyjama bottoms. I knelt down before her and was just getting them past her feet when Carol came in.
Ladies and Gentleman of the Jury, I ask you – what would you think if *you* saw the Deputy White House Chief of Staff kneeling scant inches away from his half-naked assistant’s crotch, helping her pull up her pants?
Oh yeah…totally busted. Guilty as charged.
Carol’s scream of outrage only confirmed what I thought we looked like.
“Donna! That’s JOSH!”
Ever the tactful one, Donna stood up, pulled her bottoms up so that they covered her again in one smooth motion, and stared down at me.
“It is? Oh my God!”
An Oscar-worthy performance if I ever saw one.
“I thought *Colin* would be here!” Carol screeched.
“This isn’t Colin?”
“Donna,” I muttered, “I think she gets it. You can drop the act.”
Moving very slowly, Donna walked towards her friend.
“Carol, it’s okay. Josh and I have talked.”
Looking at her living room, Carol’s eyes widened. “I think you did more than *talk*!”
Donna had the courtesy to blush. I, on the other hand, avoided all eye contact and hunted desperately for my shirt.
Fully clothed once more, I strode up to Donna and, on a total impulse, picked her up in a fireman’s hold, her stomach against my shoulder and her legs in front of me. Slowness just wasn’t going to work for the exit I had planned.
“Josh!” Donna shrieked, totally surprised. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you home!” I crowed. I took a few steps and then turned back to where Carol stood, slightly stunned.
“Carol,” I said hurriedly, “I owe you dinner – and a new couch. You’re amazing. Thanks. We’ll just be going now.”
Her jaw fell open. “Wha—?”
I grinned like an idiot, gave her a wave, and walked through the open door down to where our chariot was waiting for us.
“Oh yeah,” I said, pressing the button for the elevator and then rearranging Donna so that she slipped off my shoulder and into my arms. “Who’s Mr Bodice Ripper now?”
She kissed me soundly as the elevator doors closed behind us and then smiled up at me. “Only you, Joshua,” she laughed. “Only you.”
***He returned to Tintagel Castle, captured it, and seized Ygerna at the same time, she being what he really wanted. From that day on they lived together as equals, united by their great love for each other…***
THE END
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