Disclaimers: I don’t own the characters, we all know that by now. “November Rain” is
by Guns N Roses from Use Your Illusion I; “Hotel California” is by The Eagles…like
you need to be told again!
When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin’ when I hold you
Don’t you know I feel the same
‘Cause nothin’ lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it’s hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain
“So, what you’re telling me—if I have this right—is that you and Sam started
something on your birthday?”
“Yes.”
Donna gripped her mug of hot chocolate—laced with a dash of Bailey’s Irish at
CJ’s insistence—and tried to avoid eye contact of any kind. This current dissection of
her love life made her feel like a sliced and diced lab experiment rather than a guest in
CJ’s home, curled in a plush corner of the couch.
“Well, I have to tell you, Margaret suspected as much when we were at Gabby’s
waiting for you that night and you didn’t show.”
“You thought I’d gone home with Sam?”
CJ smiled wryly at her friend’s shocked tone. “No…not Sam, per say…we all
just hoped you’d gotten lucky but that it wasn’t with Leo or something.”
“Leo???” Donna’s outraged shrieks were only just beginning, but they’d already
gone past what CJ felt to be good for a power-girl chat.
“Just be pleased that we thought you’d copped off, okay?”
“Fine,” Donna huffed slightly, “but what does ‘copped off’ mean?”
CJ blushed. “Sorry, I own an illegal copy of the BBC’s *Queer as Folk* series and
it’s having its way with me. What I mean is, you scored with Sam that night.”
Smiling at the sweet memories from that unbelievable night, Donna took a sip
from her mug. “I like to think of it as a big more than that.”
“Sure, of course.” CJ paused, knowing Donna later on would need the strength of
those happy memories to get through whatever lay ahead. “And then, Josh found out his
best friend was sleeping with his assistant and so he clocked him at the farm.”
“Not exactly.”
“Not exactly?” She hunched forward, immediately concerned for reasons that
went beyond friendship. “Donna? You’re making me nervous here. What do you mean?
Should I be worried in a completely different way—as in, in a way that goes bigger than
Josh’s crazed territorial whims?”
Knowing that this was the White House Press Secretary pressing her for
information, Donna bit her lip and closed her eyes. After a deep breath, she let her gaze
fall directly onto CJ as she added yet another chapter to the history of Washington
scandals.
“IT happened with Josh.”
To say that CJ was stunned would have been the understatement of the year.
“IT? IT? The BIG IT that I’ve been dreading yea these many years even as Carol
gets me to bet on it every other month?”
“Definitely that IT.”
“Really…? All…you know…all the way?”
Donna blushed and shook her head. “No, not quite.” There was a slight pause as
she decided that CJ might as well know everything and be as prepared as possible.
“But…you know…”
“BUT?”
“We probably would have if Amy hadn’t walked in—when you come to think of
it, it really was quite rude of her to just stop us like that, because it was fairly obvious to
even the biggest idiot what would have happened next—what I know would have…”
Her scowling musings about keeping barn doors shut next time were interrupted
as the news sank in and an irate CJ literally leapt out of her chair.
“AMY? Amy the Political Operative, Amy? Amy knows about this? She saw
you? Where the hell were you and that numbskull—the back of Josh’s car?”
“The Bartlet’s barn,” Donna said softly.
CJ winced as she paced, crinkling her nose up as thought she’d just heard Josh
had pubic cooties. “Oh, God! And to think I saw an actual snake in the grass in there.
Remind me to NEVER go in that barn again.”
“CJ!”
“Sorry,” she muttered, sounding anything but apologetic. “But you have to admit,
mi amigo, this all comes as a bit of a shock.”
Donna rolled her eyes at that particular comment. “Try living through it
sometime.”
“I think I’ll take a pass on that golden opportunity.”
A heavy silence crept into the conversation as CJ went in search of more alcohol
and Donna tried her best not to think about anything.
It wasn’t working.
A part of her had always dreamed of having two men want her at the same time,
but the reality of her predicament wasn’t nearly as fun as it had been for the girls in all
those bodice-rippers lining her bookshelves. Sam…Josh…Sam…Josh…
Just when she would think her mind was made up, her heart would implore her to
make a different choice.
So when CJ came back with a bottle of twelve-year-old Single Malt, Donna
smiled, knowing the final answer about the men in her life could wait another few hours.
CJ poured out, then resumed her seat. Giving her friend a long searching look,
she smiled and raised an eyebrow, ready for more.
“And then?” she prodded gently.
“Then…I don’t know.”
“Sam doesn’t know about the…I don’t know—your illicit encounter with Josh in
the barn?”
“No, though he almost found Josh in my bathroom earlier today,” she admitted,
sheepishly.
“DONNA!”
“Sam doesn’t suspect any of it. And that, more than anything else, is what is
hurting the most—he trusts me, CJ. And what have I done? Almost slept with his best
friend…twice.”
CJ sighed and ran a hand through her auburn hair. “Do you want me to play
Devil’s Advocate?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, because in a very strong sense, things have been going on between you
and Joshy-boy since that first day you walked into his office. Trust me, I was there.”
“So was I,” Donna replied softly.
“And Josh? He knows all about you and Sam?”
Her answering smile was almost ironic. “I almost think that’s what set him off in
the first place. And then…” She stopped, not wanting to remember, but needing to tell
someone, anyone, especially a person close to her who would share the same feelings of
incomprehension that she had dealt with for the entire drive back to the capitol. “Before
we left Manchester…Amy threw herself at Sam.” Even though every word hurt, she
continued. “She kissed him—longingly, passionately, as if they had been lovers for
years…”
“WHAT?” screeched CJ.
“And he didn’t exactly pull away from the spider’s bite, if you know what I
mean.”
“So why did Josh punch him? Because he was kissing Amy, or because he was
betraying you?”
“I think both things added to his momentum.”
CJ held her head in one hand, her glass of scotch in the other. “Okay, let me try
to get this straight. You started seeing Sam quite a while ago.”
“Yes.”
“Then—finally, but certainly unexpectedly, things flare up with Josh.”
The answer was softer this time. “Yes.”
“And then, when you’re at your most confused, Amy not only walks in on one of
the high points of your life—albeit in an extremely compromising and I would think
slightly uncomfortable position, but she also has a lasciviously passionate embrace with
your legitimate boyfriend?”
By this point, Donna’s replies were little more than a whisper. “Yes.”
There was yet another lingering pause before she spoke again, almost cowering
before CJ. “I think it’s a rather gi-normous understatement to say this is a bit of a mess.”
For long seconds CJ did nothing but look at her younger companion. Finally, she
replied: “God, I need a cigarette.”
“Tell me about it. But just don’t ask the President for one, because his bummed
smokes come with a very elaborate lecture.”
CJ reached for more scotch and automatically poured Donna another round too.
“After I’m thoroughly pissed and debauched, I want you to give me every last
scintillating detail. It’s always been hot gossip about what an amazing kisser our Deputy
Chief is.”
“It’s very true,” sighed Donna. “And he’s got a great ass. But so does Sam.”
“Fabulous—all this information will give me something to think about during
early morning meetings.”
After about twenty minutes of nonsense chat about other cute Washington butts,
the conversation once again turned to the men in Donna’s private and public life.
“Can you just tell me one thing?” asked CJ, smiling in that most sloshed of ways.
“What?”
“How—how the Hell did we all suddenly end up on some random episode of the
Young and the Restless meets the Twilight Zone?”
Donna began to giggle. “Actually, I’ve been thinking it’s kind of like a modern
update of Camelot.”
“Oh, God, not the one with the singing.” That particular lament brought on more
laughter.
“Promise not to tell?”
“Brownie’s Honour.”
“The President’s already started brushing up his Robert Goulet impressions.”
CJ sat up suddenly. “The PRESIDENT knows about all of this???”
“Only in the absolute abstract sense,” reassured Donna.
“I swear, if Toby starts in on ‘The Lusty Month of May’ I’m going to quit.”
Donna laid a hand on CJ’s arm, trying to look serious. “I promise you—it won’t
get that bad.”
“Really?”
The forthcoming pause said it all. “I think…I…I hope so.”
“Oh dear.”
********
We’ve been through this such a long long time
Just tryin’ to kill the pain
But lovers always come and lovers always go
And no one’s really sure who’s lettin’ go today
Walking away
The crisp November air chilled the back of Sam’s neck. For the hundredth time
he looked up at Donna’s apartment, his eyes searching for some kind of movement. But
there was no warm glow coming from behind the curtains—no save haven for him to find
with her tonight. She wasn’t there. Or, if she was, he was most certainly the last person
she wanted to see.
What the hell had happened in the past two days? They had gone to Manchester
nearly ready to let all their friends know about their romance—sure, Donna had seemed
slightly skittish during Annie’s party, but wasn’t she always just a touch harebrained?
And wasn’t that one of the things he loved most about her?
Love. There was that word again, banging about inside his head. He had almost
been able to tell her days ago, while they frolicked in bed, but she had stopped him before
he could get the words out. And now, maybe that was for the best, because it would only
have hurt her more to see…well, to see what had unfortunately taken place…knowing
that he had previously declared his love. Talk about trashy.
Glumly, he pushed his cold fingers into the pockets of his coat and began to walk
off slowly into the night.
As he neared his apartment, his strides grew faster. There was someone waiting
for him on the front stoop.
“Donna!” he called out, running down the wet sidewalk.
The figure stood up. In the light from the streetlamp, Sam could see the colour of
her hair. Suddenly he stopped short, his eyes narrowing into jagged triangles.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’d expect that kind of a reception from Josh, but you—supposedly—are the one
with better manners.”
He swallowed the apology that instinctively sprang to his lips and continued to
glare, his body unmoving. “Amy, what do you want?”
Amy Gardiner stood up, brushing the dirt from the back of her long coat with one
hand. “I thought, perhaps, you’d want an explanation for why I kissed you today.”
“You think you can actually just explain it away?”
“Contrary to popular opinion, Sam, I’m not a total beast. Sure, it was impulsive,
but there was a reason.”
Sam snorted dismissively and started to move past her on the steps. “You can’t
give me a good enough reason. You don’t know how many things you’ve screwed up
today, whether it was intentional or not.”
“If you really want Donna Moss, Sam, you’ll listen to what I have to say.
Otherwise it might be too late for both of you.”
With one hand on the door to his apartment building, Sam turned slightly. “Can
we cut out the melodrama, please?” he asked, rolling his eyes. “I’ve met enough people
who ought to have their own storylines on As The World Turns to last a lifetime.”
“One cup of coffee,” Amy said, “that’s all I ask. If in the time you have one cup
of coffee with me you don’t agree that what I did today was actually in your best interest,
I’ll go and never speak of it again. And I’ll knock off the drama-queen act.”
He looked at her intently, weighing his options. In the end, it all came down to
how he could apologise to Donna for this messy rigmarole. And Amy might
unintentionally give him the answer he was looking for.
“One cup.”
“That’s right,” she replied, “just one.”
“My place or the Starbucks three blocks down?”
“Not to insinuate anything, but I think you’re place would be best.”
Nodding, Sam unlocked the door and held it open as Amy breezed past him.
Looking up to the heavens, he shook his head at himself. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“You’ll thank me for this later,” Amy called down from the landing.
Sam closed the door behind him as another chilly gust of wind tried to get under
his skin.
********
If we could take the time to lay it on the line
I could rest my head just knowing that you were mine
All mine
So if you want to love me
then darlin’ don’t refrain…
Josh was amazed he had survived the trip back to DC. Not that it was his fault as
much as everything else going on. Leo, sensing trouble on some front or another, had
insisted that Charlie drive home with Josh. It wasn’t something Charlie was to thank him
for anytime soon, no doubt.
Thinking back, Josh thought he had been in perfect control—it was just his
passenger who was a little the worse for wear…
“Josh, slow down or I’ll beat you up as soon as the car stops.”
“Charlie, my man,” he laughed, his fingers tightening further on the steering
wheel, “try to get it together. After all, I’m being a completely reasonable driver YOU
FUCKING PRICK, DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE! Seriously, there’s nothing to
worry about.”
Charlie closed his eyes and began to pray as Josh shifted into fifth gear and darted
in and out of the passing lane at random. “Uh, Josh…ever heard of signalling on an
interstate?”
“Don’t bother me with details now. I’ve had too many goddamn details for one
week—hell, for a lifetime.” Sensing Charlie might be growing a bit uneasy, Josh tried
for plausible reassurance. “There’s nothing to worry about, Charlie. I’ll get us back to
DC in one piece PICK A LANE, THERE, BUDDY! WHERE’D YOU LEARN TO
DRIVE LIKE THAT, THE ASSHOLE ACADEMY FOR IDIOTS???”
After giving the finger to the transport that had dared to even think about moving
in front of Josh, they happily hit a stretch of highway with no cars posing an immediate
danger to any White House employees. Still, after thirty seconds, Josh thought Charlie’s
silence might be a little more than a mere lapse in the conversation.
“Charlie?” The President’s aide was currently pressed up against the back of his
seat, as if the windshield and dashboard were nuclear weapons, one armed braced on the
armrest and the other holding onto the door panel with a death-grip. Josh almost started
laughing.
“Charlie? You with me—FUCK OFF, JUST FUCK THE HELL OFF!—here?”
Charlie shut his eyes as if he were about to be sick and prayed that the bikers who
had just come out of the access lane weren’t making plans to kill him before the next
overpass.
“I’m here,” he squawked.
“GET YOUR FAT ASS OUT OF MY WAY!”
Looking over his shoulder to the irate face of a biker in leather and with a skull on
the front of his Harley, Charlie leaned toward Josh.
“How about we speed up, huh? That way we can get home faster,” he said. And I
can live a few minutes longer, he hoped.
Yes, it had been an exhilarating drive home.
But now that he was home, Josh didn’t know what to do with himself. Donna had
rushed off with CJ, so it was extremely doubtful she was at home—and calling up CJ
would only get him yelled at when he walked into work in the morning. In any other
situation, he would have been on the phone to Sam, but…well…no, that was not an
option either.
He mentally went down the list of colleagues and co-workers he could talk to
about—what was it he could say? That he had nearly made love to his assistant twice at
the Bartlet farm, while sneaking behind his best friend’s back and possibly being found
out by an archenemy more dangerous than the key fundraiser of the GOP? It would take
someone with an awful lot of understanding in an awful lot of areas to withstand that
particular conversation.
Leo? No, not for this. He would get fired before he could even get past the words
“Me and Donna.” The President? Again no, because he would be accused of trying to
sully sacred Bartlet property. Same reason applied to the First Lady. CJ was with
Donna, Toby had been sent back with Sam. And it was doubtful Charlie would talk to
him again for a few years at least.
Donna. She was the one person who would listen, who would understand, who
would smack him around and make him feel better and then make him feel horny. And
then he would do his damndest to make HER feel horny. And then the horniness would
pass and it would just be them, feeling, tasting, sensing…being.
And, judging from the glaring emptiness of his apartment without Donna around
to be with him, he was shit out of luck again.
What he really needed was sleep. Lots of sleep. And if Donna dreams came
included in the package, he would be more than grateful. The need to talk with her—just
to hear her voice—was overpowering and surprising. But, he thought to himself, it
shouldn’t come as such a shock. I’ve always known once the floodgates opened, I
wouldn’t be able to hold anything back.
Yes, his restraint thus far had been particularly admirable—if one excluded that
slight blip of decking Sam in the morning. But really, how could the guy hurt Donna like
that, kissing that Amy-Asp, that viper in the breast of the Democratic Party, that succubus
who should be banished back to the seventh ring of Hell…it was at times like this Josh
was always particularly grateful for taking that one English course at university, because
it always gave him such good metaphors to use for ex-girlfriends.
Amy: there was yet another headache waiting to happen. But that he definitely
did not want to think about now. He’d think about that tomorrow—or whenever he could
no longer avoid it.
Josh poured himself a stiff scotch as he changed his clothes. Normally he slept
naked, but it had been so damn chilly this fall, he’d switched into cotton boxers earlier
than usual.
He went back out to the living room, wearing boxers of blue-green plaid, his
broad chest picking up the glow from the streetlamps outside. Music was needed—but
he didn’t want to turn on any lights. Something about the dark soothed him, and he had
already faced enough harshness during the day. Pressing ‘play’ on the remote, his stereo
switched over to a Chopin CD. The haunting chords and crescendos of a nocturne filled
the apartment, sometimes sweet, sometimes sorrowful in tone.
He sat in his favourite chair and drank slowly, letting the peaty amber liquid burn
its way down his throat. The last time he had sat like this, thinking this much about
something he couldn’t control, it had ended with a broken window and a bloody hand.
But it wasn’t sirens driving him mad this time. Or maybe it was one Siren in
particular. Donna would look perfectly natural in some Botticelli painting of Ancient
Greece, luring sailors to her side as tendrils of blonde hair partially hid the pert tips of her
breasts. And he, unlike Odysseus, would be happy to sacrifice himself to her desire and
sink into her possibly deadly embrace.
Thinking of Donna’s breasts got him thinking of other things about Donna.
Suddenly he could taste her in his mouth, smell the scent of her shampoo—if he were to
reach out, he could almost feel the silky smoothness of her skin.
The CD switched over from Chopin to The Eagles and the sounds of Hotel
California became the background music for Josh’s latest fantasy.
Donna came to him slowly, her alabaster skin covered by rich navy blue silk. Her
robe was loosely tied, giving him glimpses of what lay beyond. He could smell her
perfume, but his overwhelming desire was to bury himself in the salty-sweet tang of her
most intimate place, first lapping with his mouth and then thrusting with his cock.
On a dark desert highway
Cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of ‘calyptus
Rising up in the air
Up ahead in the distance
I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night
Only partially aware of what he was doing, he reached under his boxers and then
lifted his hips to move the cotton fabric out of his way, kicking it down off his legs.
Pumping slowly, he let visions of Donna torment his already fevered mind.
There she stood in the doorway
I heard the mission bell
And I was thinkin’ to myself
This could be heaven or this could be hell
In one quick move he had her and was ripping away her robe, finally able to see
all of her, to feel quiver against him knowing that nothing could intrude in this world of
their own making. His lips grazed over hers, wanting to sample other delights before
giving himself up to the luxurious heat of her mouth.
And still those voices are calling from far away
Wake you up in the middle of the night
Just to hear them say,
Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place, such a lovely face
His mind kept flitting back and forth between different ways he could love her,
never satisfied with just one image. She rode hard above him, then he was driving into
her—her soft blond hair tickled his stomach and thighs as she took him in her mouth,
then he moaned at the taste of her arousal against his tongue.
Mirrors on the ceiling
Pink champagne on ice
And she said,
“We are all just prisoners here
Of our own device.”
His strokes became faster as his body neared its climax. In the back of his mind,
a small voice warned him that this wasn’t enough—only a pale comparison of the real
thing. But then his cock took over and he moved his other hand to feel his balls contract
as he came, spilling himself over his stomach to the final rifts of the electric guitar in the
background.
For a few precious seconds he almost convinced himself that he was content, but
the feeling faded faster than he thought possible. He cleaned up and then leaned against
his stainless steel fridge, still naked. He thought without moving for a long time.
He could never be satisfied with simple fantasies of Donna from now on—not
after he had held her and kissed her and nearly made her his own.
This was it. From this minute on he was going for broke—because at long last
Joshua Lyman finally had come to the conclusion that it wasn’t just that he wanted
Donnatella Moss, or that he wanted her to want him back. What he wanted now was
deeper, more serious, and almost stronger than his love for her that he had already
shouted in her face. He wanted to share his life with her, and all that phrase entailed.
And as that news sunk in, Josh rendered himself speechless—but there was no
one around to see it.
********
Or I’ll just end up walkin’
In the cold November rain…
“You had better stop sipping and start talking.”
Amy put a hand on her throat, feigning shock. “What’s this? The ever-smiling
Sam Seaborn is actually bordering on rudeness once again? Charm like that will never
get you to the Oval Office, you know.”
“Amy…” he warned in a growling tone.
“Fine,” she said, setting down her mug of coffee none too gently. “Where do you
want me to start? Because really, there are so many boring and yet endlessly fascinating
angles that I could approach this from.”
“Why did you kiss me this morning?” he snapped. Sam’s arms were crossed and
his blue eyes shone with an inner fury. “I want answers if you have any to give, which
somehow I doubt.”
“Don’t be so hasty. You might be extremely interested in what I have to say.”
“Then say it already so you can get out of my apartment and I can go to bed.”
Amy smiled, like a large cat toying with her prey, tenderising it between clawed
paws before going in for the kill. “I suppose I’ll begin by saying that kissing you didn’t
really have anything to do with you at all. It was revenge, pure and simple.”
“Amy, I swear, if you’re about to tell me that you needed something to send into
Cosmo Confessions, I’m throwing you out right now.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please. Don’t try my patience.”
Sam’s mouth fell open. “Try YOUR patience? Oh my god.”
“May I continue?”
“By all means,” he mocked, making wide gestures with his hands.
“Right then,” said Amy, finally settling into her story. “I was on a pleasant stroll
yesterday…no, no, I think I need to go further back. I have no doubt that you—hell, that
everyone who works with Josh—had an idea that things weren’t going well between us
for sometime.”
“That’s why he took you on a vacation for your birthday.”
“Precisely. That didn’t go too well, for reasons passing understanding at the time,
but I really thought things might be on track once more. Except there was a problem.
You see, Sam, there’s been this little bump in the road of my relationship with Josh and
although I was assured it was nothing, the bump kept looming every once in a while—
until, finally, it was time to clear the path, once and for all.”
“Amy, just get to the point. I’m tired.”
“The bump had a name, Sam. It’s a name I’m sure you’ll recognise. Donnatella
Moss.”
At that, Sam’s head jerked up from where he had been staring off into his coffee
mug, and the blood quickly drained away from his face. “Donna? Why would…” He
checked himself just before letting the cat out of the proverbial bag. “Don’t tell me to be
concerned with Josh and Donna. They’re close friends and have been for years. I’m a
loyal friend to both of them.”
“Now who’s playing games?” Amy snidely asked. “Don’t pretend, Sam, I
already know about you and Donna. You’re sleeping with her. Like I care.”
Sam’s eyes flashed. “Don’t…not another word.”
“But Sam,” Amy drawled sweetly, “didn’t you invite me up here specifically to
find out what’s really going on?”
“I don’t think I like the way this is going.”
“But…”
“Stop!” he yelled, cutting her off. “Just tell me once and for all why you kissed
me this morning and then get out of here!”
For timeless seconds Amy didn’t move a muscle—she didn’t even seem to
breathe. Then a smile slowly crept across her face and she licked her lips in anticipation
of the havoc about to be unleashed.
“Why did I kiss you?”
“Yes! Why?”
“It’s quite simple, Sam. I know all’s fair in love and war and all that jazz, but she
can’t have both of you. I had to put a stop to her little game of running between the two
of you. It doesn’t gall me as much as you might think that things are over between me
and Josh, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let that little blond trollop get the best of both
worlds—or the best of both men.”
Sam’s wrath was so all consuming, he couldn’t do anything but stare at Amy,
sitting at his kitchen table, the ice in her eyes complimenting the flames in his.
“I had to make her choose, Sam, that’s all. And now that it’s all out in the open,
what with Josh knowing about your extracurricular activities with Donna, and me telling
you about finding them en flagrante delecto in the President’s barn…oops, silly me…I
hadn’t mentioned that yet, had I?” she asked in a completely fake voice.
Seeing the dazed glaze pass over Sam’s face at that latest little bombshell, Amy
got up and gathered her things. “Don’t worry, Sam, I’m sure Donna will make the right
decision. It’s not like she’s some dippy bimbo who slept her way to the top. In fact, I
really admire the way she broke her personal glass ceiling and made it to the White
House. It’s just her manner that irks me, I guess. And because she obviously never heard
the rule that you shouldn’t shit where you eat.”
Amy moved to the door and looked back over her shoulder to see Sam still in the
clutches of absolute disbelief. “I’m sorry you had to get hurt in order for this to come to
an end, Sam. You’re a wonderful man. She didn’t deserve you.”
The door closed with a sharp click and Sam’s world came crumbling down.
********
Do you need some time…on your own
Do you need some time…all alone
Everybody needs some time…on their own
Don’t you know you need some time…all alone
Josh sat up in bed suddenly, the covers slipping off his body in the dark. His eyes
stared straight ahead and his mouth was open, drawing air into his lungs with ragged
breaths. Slowly, with an enormous effort, he forced his brain to recognise the familiar
surroundings of his bedroom…there was the chair that was really more of a hanger for all
of his dirty clothes, his bookcases, the window, the doorway leading off to the kitchen.
It was all there.
He was there.
The dream wasn’t real.
In his sleep, he had been at Rosslyn again, but he couldn’t recognise anyone
around him—all the faces were blurry and masked. Every nerve in his body knew what
would come next, but still he had felt a rush of surprise when the first gunshot cracked
through the night air.
There was panic, flashes, screaming…sirens.
And then he looked up to see Donna standing only a few feet away from him,
looking at him in the most quizzical of ways. Her mouth opened and he saw her lips
form the shape of his name, but he couldn’t hear her voice.
He couldn’t hear anything anymore and could only feel waves of frustration and
rage racking his body. Donna began to fall forward, but not before he saw the gaping
hole in her chest where the bullet had torn through. He looked down at himself and saw a
twin wound staining the front of his own shirt.
But that wasn’t what bothered him—it was as though his brain had already come
to terms with the fear and pain associated with his own trauma. Instead, it was the
unspeakable agony of seeing Donna falling lifeless to the ground before his very eyes that
made his guts wrench. And then, the knowledge that his limbs were frozen—he couldn’t
move, couldn’t hold her in his arms and breathe life back into her fragile body—he was
rooted to the spot and could only watch as his life drained away along with her blood.
Breathing now was extremely hard and the absolute frustration of sheer
helplessness bent his mind so that coherent thought or action was impossible. He had no
control over what was happening, and that was the final stroke that killed him, night after
night—the futility of trying to control chaos, and the awareness that this scenario was
doomed to repeat itself.
Running a hand over his eyes that once again were able to focus on reality, Josh
sighed deeply, cursing the weakness that continued to plague him years after that night in
Rosslyn. He moved his hand in front of his face, staring at it, and his brain slowly
registered the fact that it was shaking, as if stricken with palsy. His whole body was
shaking.
Tremors. He was so completely stressed out that the tremors had come back,
despite the regular dose of SSRIs he took faithfully every night.
He pulled the covers up to his shoulder and stared up at the ceiling as his body
continued to shake uncontrollably.
He was going to have to talk to Stanley about this. And, much as he liked
Stanley, Josh hated few things more than having to discuss this…this battle he had fought
for more than two years…and to realise that he wasn’t healing nearly as quickly as he
wanted.
Stanley had already talked to him about his impatience with getting over the
PTSD.
“Josh,” he had said, “I’m not going to lie to you. This condition that you have
sucks. There’s no doubt about that. But, as I told you before, it does get better. And it
truly does, but that doesn’t mean that there won’t be times, no matter how far in the past
the shooting was, when you might slip a little, or a lot. It’s possible you’ll lose control of
your emotions, even your actions, depending on how much stress you’re under and
what’s triggering the turmoil. And when or if that happens, you’re going to feel like
you’ve failed and are back at square one.”
“What, I’m really going to be at Square Two?”
“Can we cut the sarcasm for a minute? The key concept is that although you
might have to take a small step back, you’ve already come miles from the tormented man
who didn’t know why he was so angry. Let me give you a visual of what it’s like. Have
you ever seen Lawrence of Arabia?”
“Hasn’t everyone?”
“Did you know that Lawrence had PTSD?”
“Really?”
“In fact, some people argue that nearly every soldier who fought in the First
World War suffered from elements of it. Lawrence fought bravely for the British and
Prince Feisal, but also suffered many disappointments and witnessed many deaths. Still,
it wasn’t until Daraa, when he was captured and raped by the Turks, that his personal
foundations crumbled. It’s all about power and control. When you think that you’ve lost
control, your PTSD kicks in and you quickly begin to lose yourself. There’s doubt, and
fear, and loneliness, and the firm belief that no one has ever experienced before what
you’re going through.
But look at what Lawrence did, Josh. He took Damascus, he went to Versailles to
speak for the Arabs, and he lived for nearly twenty years after the war. So you see,
though you’ll never be the same Josh Lyman you were before this happened to you, you
will get better. And you will be a stronger man for all that you have suffered.”
“So, you’re telling me that I need to accept that the bullet didn’t kill me and that
in fact it’s made me stronger. When does that kick in, exactly?”
“It already has, Josh. It already has.”
Lying there in the dark, Josh wasn’t too sure if he was a stronger man than before
the shooting, but he did know he was still alive. Donna had always been there to show
him that—in many wondrous and varied ways. And now, she made him feel like a man
in the most intimate way of all.
Keeping the image of Donna in his mind, he rolled over, closed his eyes, and
began to relax so that the twitching would stop and give way to sleep.
********
I know it’s hard to keep an open heart
When even friends seem out to harm you…
Donna hardly knew what to do with herself as she got ready for work. There had
been messages on her answering machine when she got back from CJ’s place, but she had
ignored them. Anything said, on any part, had to be done in person now. She felt it was
best that way—besides, she had always hated getting into fights where someone could
end it just by slamming down a phone.
By the time she made it into work, she had decided to go to her cubicle first in a
vain attempt to maintain some level of decorum at the office. After all, the election was
only a few days away.
The Election. Wow, it seemed everyone had forgotten about that—or at least,
three little insignificant people had completely blanked that it was coming so soon, while
their own personal melodrama had taken over.
When she walked past security she made a quick turn to the right, almost racing to
her desk—not that it was much of a haven, but still. Normalcy: aim for that.
Then again, when was her life as Josh’s assistant ever normal? His sixth sense
must have kicked in, because his bellow reverberated around the office long before he
could have seen her arrival.
“DONNA!!”
She walked smartly into his office, ever the professional, and closed the door
before even casting a glance in his direction. Leaning back against the hard wood, she
took a deep breath and looked up.
Josh was half-sitting on his desk, one hip jauntily amid piles of paper, the other
strong and straight supporting his leg. He would have to wear a really good suit today,
she thought to herself. Damn.
Their eyes locked, sparks flying in every direction.
“Hey,” they both said in unison. Josh smiled first, his dimples enchanting her far
too early in the morning to have any chance of maintaining this illusion of willpower.
She knew for sure that she was doomed when he began to walk towards her, closing the
space between them even as the movement of his sleek form stole the breath from her
body, leaving her helpless and wanting before him.
“How are you doing?” he asked softly, still keeping a slightly respectable
distance.
“You can’t touch me here,” Donna fired back.
“Excuse me?”
“You can’t touch me here,” she repeated. “There have to be boundaries. Lots of
them. You can’t touch me at work, or when we’re having anything to do with the White
House, and maybe you shouldn’t put your hand on my back anymore when we walk
together in the hall, because I’m sure Margaret will suspect something as soon as she sees
me because she did that before with Sam and the last thing…”
“Can you stop for a second?” he finally asked, effectively silencing her with a
finger to her lips.
She was shushed immediately.
“That’s better.” He removed his fingers only when certain that her babbling had
stopped. The instant they left her lips, she missed them, and longed for more despite
herself. Let’s face it, she thought angrily, I’ve given in already—all he ever needed to do
was touch me in that certain way…
“What do you think you’re doing?” she whispered loudly.
“Doing my damnedest to make sure you don’t fly off the handle.”
“I was not about to do that.”
“Yeah, sure, keep on thinking that Donna…maybe someday it will come true.”
“Oh, shut up!” she snapped.
His mouth flirted between a smile and frown, finally deciding upon the former.
“Don’t worry,” he breathed, “I’m not going to do anything to compromise you here.
That’s not fair—and this time, I want to play fair.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, I don’t want to hurt you.” He paused before continuing. “Or—I
guess—anyone else. If this,” he pointed between the two of them, leaving his hand
tantalisingly close to her silk-covered breast, “is really going to happen—for sure, with
no regrets—then I want you to have a clear conscience when you decide it’s right.”
Donna looked at him, confused—not so much at his words, as the unexpected
meaning behind them. “I’m sorry,” she began, “but you have to explain exactly what you
mean by that.” She moved closer to his body, electrifying every nerve in both their
bodies before shuffling past him to rest against the ledge of his desk. “I know I don’t
have to be the one to tell you we’re playing with fire here.”
“Why? When the President wins on Tuesday…”
“If he wins,” she interjected.
“You’re not abandoning ship at the last moment, are you?”
“Of course not! But I don’t want to jinx us.”
He smiled in the sexiest of ways, making her want to tighten every muscle in her
core. “You’re actually worrying about jinxing us?” he asked, walking closer once more.
“I’m superstitious, okay?” Just as he neared her personal space, she darted
around him once more, making him breathe heavily between his nostrils but also
maintain his distance. The last thing they needed was to be caught chasing each other
around the desk. Even as she thought of it, Donna rolled her eyes—talk about an easy
way to turn their lives into an unimaginable nightmare!
“Okay,” Josh said, “I’ll follow your logic, just this once. If you’re so concerned
about us being caught in a sex scandal when we can damage the President’s chances of
winning a second term, I’ll cut you a deal.”
“A deal? Why do I have my suspicions?”
“Because you’re naturally a suspicious person?” Donna gave Josh a look, and he
immediately backtracked. “Not that such a feature isn’t extremely attractive…” He
almost approached her again, but checked himself, making them both frown for a split-
second. “You’re worried about the election, right?”
“Isn’t everyone?”
This time Josh was the first to give the castigating look, making Donna press
herself a little bit more against the desk. Unfortunately, this did nothing but to accentuate
her already tantalising cleavage.
Get a grip, buddy, get a grip, he told himself a moment later. His cock was
twitching at her presence and he knew if he concentrated, he could probably distinguish
the scent of her perfume from that of her hair and that of her tangy essence; but those
were definitely bad thoughts to have when Leo and the President of the United States
were within throwing distance.
“Okay,” he stated in his most official voice, “I have a plan.”
“Tell me it has nothing to do with inflation and I’m with you.”
“Cute,” he replied, looking stony for the scarcest of seconds. “Look, here’s what
we should do. For the next eight days, until the election is over, we’ll pretend nothing
has happened since we left for Manchester. Do you think we can do that?”
Donna looked him up and down, doing her best to restrain whatever primal urges
she had to ask him to just take her on the desk. The thought of Sam stayed before her,
making her do the right thing. “I think we can—in fact, I know it.”
Josh nodded.
“But…what do we do on the ninth day?” she asked tentatively. Immediately she
could see the force behind his every movement and was both grateful and sad that he
restrained himself from repeating his actions from the days before. It had been three long
days since he had wonderfully pinned her down on in one of the Bartlet’s bedrooms, and
despite her overwhelming enthusiasm for Sam, Josh still had some draw when it came to
her heart—and it was one she was increasingly powerless to deny.
His face said it all. “Don’t let me thin about that now, Donna, or I swear, I won’t
be held responsible for the consequences.”
Her sex grew moist at the intensity of his declaration, but she did her utmost to
repress its desires. “And Sam?” she asked, intently. “Where does Sam fit into all of
this?”
“You need…God, this is harder than I ever thought it would be…no!” he cried, as
she moved closer out of concern, “don’t touch me…it’s—I’m sorry, but it’s too much,
Donna.”
She merely nodded, knowing the overwhelming power of desire that had seared
between them for so long, only to awake and then be set aside for a higher purpose.
“You need to talk to him, Donna. It’s the only way.”
“And then what?”
“Then I’ll talk to him. Then you’ll talk to him again—to make sure he
understands.”
“Understands what, exactly?”
Josh smiled with a tinge of sadness at the corners of his mouth. “That it was
meant to be—and, for once, we can’t change that.”
“Josh…” Her voice trailed away into nothing. There was so much she wanted to
tell him, to let him know about the aching time spent without him—about how close she
had come to not needing him anymore…
“Donna, please—don’t. Don’t make it any harder than it already is.”
“You don’t want to hurt him,” she said, her voice full of sudden recognition.
“Of course not. He’s my best friend—next to you. He and I have been through
so much…In one way, I can’t blame him for seizing the moment—for finally taking the
chance to win you over…And yet, at the same time, I’m ready to kill him for
interfering!”
Donna chanced it, and moved just close enough to lay her hand upon his cheek,
lending him her hidden strength. “I know,” she said, in the softest of whispers.
He said nothing in return, but moved his lips ever so gently to kiss at her palm and
wrist before moving his mouth away again—the proprieties must be kept at all times, to
the eternal damnation of Desire’s demands.
“Josh,” she asked quietly, “what are you doing?”
He looked at her, gazed upon her beauty for long moments before answering.
“I’m trying to win,” he stated simply.
“The election or me?”
He said nothing in return, but, deep down, she knew.
And so, together, they leapt the most difficult hurdle of all.
And when your fears subside
And shadows still remain
I know that you can love me
When there’s no one left to blame
So never mind the darkness
We still can find a way
‘Cause nothing lasts forever
Even cold November Rain
FEEDBACK MAKES ME WRITE FASTER!! ballynihinch@hotmail.com