**Disclaimers:
“If Ever I Would Leave You” from Lerner and Loewe’s CAMELOT © 1960
“Come What May” from Moulin Rouge Soundtrack © 2001
All WW characters belong to Aaron Sorkin, NBC et al. I don’t claim a thing!
“Who the hell do you think you are, walking around every day like a cocky-swaggering idiot? At least I was smart enough to wake up and try to find someone else who actually gives a damn about me.”
“Gives a damn about you? Christ, Donna, I’m fucking in love with you!”
Looking back, she couldn’t remember moving her hand, or even the feel of his cheek as she slapped him across the face, but she could easily remember how she had felt immediately afterwards. Her hand stung, and such a mix of anger, passion and horror raged within her, she thought she might go mad.
Holding a hand to his injured face, Josh exhaled slowly, his eyes lit from within. “Do what you like, Donna, but I doubt Sam Seaborn has ever said that to you.”
This time he was ready for her assault and grabbed her hand in mid-air. Her weight had been behind it, and so she couldn’t stop her body from stumbling against his, her barely covered breasts pressed flush to his hard chest. He was most mightily roused and so was she. Their kiss was immediate and powerful enough to make them both stagger, his tongue ravaging her mouth as if to prove his ownership of her soul and heart.
Neither of them heard the approaching footsteps until it was too late.
Amy’s harsh voice echoed around the barn. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”
Donna thought one always had to feel cold in order to freeze. It made sense that way—if the body was frigid it naturally would stop feeling, become numb, succumb. But it turned out she had never felt more hot in her entire life. Every single one of Josh’s kisses burned against every inch of her skin, making her more aware of her body’s intense arousal than she had thought possible.
His arms were still wrapped around her when he slowly turned his head to look at this insolent creature who had dared to intrude upon what was easily their most private moment together in the entire time of knowing each other.
And so Donna also burned with an unexplainable anger. Josh pressed her closer against his own fiery body as he began to speak.
“Leave. Now.”
All three seemed amazed at how calm his voice was. He could have been dismissing the most lowly Republican senator in that acidic tone. The problem was, this wasn’t some weak representative Josh could just push around—this was a woman scorned, Donna thought, one with the power to ruin everything imaginable.
“Leave?” Amy snorted. “I don’t think so. I’m tempted to pull up a chair and let you two get on with the show. After all, all of Washington has been waiting with baited breath for this glorious day finally to arrive.”
Donna’s eyes closed in a vain attempt to block out Amy’s existence. She was glad now that Josh hadn’t let go of her, because it was only the touch of his body that was grounding her.
“What’s with not looking at me, Donna?” Amy taunted. “I won’t suddenly disappear like some witch just because you can’t handle being found out at last.”
“I thought I told you to go.” Josh’s voice was still quiet, but there was an edge to it sharper than any razor blade. When she still didn’t move he finally let go of Donna and began to walk towards Amy, hostility etched in every step he took.
Donna called him back to her with the merest touch of her fingers on his arm. “No, Josh, don’t. Don’t give her the pleasure.”
Amy laughed, her eyes gleaming. “Oh bravo, Donna. That’s it, keep him in line. God knows it’s a hard enough job for any mere mortal woman. But I forgot, you’re the marvellous Donna Moss, Josh’s personal goddess-on-a-pedestal—you shouldn’t have too much trouble reining him in. Unless, of course, a certain someone were to find out about this poignant little episode…do you think I should tell Sam now or wait for a more appropriate moment, like when he’s got you up against a wall at the office?”
Donna couldn’t tell if the sudden tension that shot through Josh was from Amy’s threat or the image of her with Sam, but it was more than enough for her. Leaning down to pick up her discarded top, she covered herself and then moved away from Josh. She kept glaring at Amy as she crossed the distance between them and didn’t speak until she was mere inches away.
“Fists are too good for you,” she whispered, and when Amy leaned in to make sure she had heard correctly, Donna slapped her across the face. This time there was no doubt that she would remember every glorious second, and she relished the stinging pain that shot through her fingers. It was the first time she had bitch-slapped another woman since trying to defend herself against school bullies back in the second grade. Even afterwards, she couldn’t be sure if she had hit Amy because of what she had said about Josh or about Sam.
Donna walked out of the barn, alone, the vision of Amy’s mouth hanging open in shock seared on her brain. It was only afterwards, when she stood alone on the porch of the Bartlet’s main house that the implications of everything that had just happened began to sink in.
And what scared her most was that she had no idea of what would happen next.
**********
Josh couldn’t move as Donna walked away, leaving him to deal with the Gorgon alone. Then again, it seemed Amy was the one who had turned the stone—from the moment Donna slapped her the wind hadn’t just been knocked out of her—someone had used a Dirt Devil vacuum to suck it out.
He watched Donna until she turned a corner and disappeared. Funny thing was at a moment when he would normally have been completely enraged at everyone and everything for such an untimely interruption, he just felt an overwhelming sense of pride. Donna had finally come out of her shell long enough to not only act on what had been flowing between them for years, but also to put Amy in her place. He almost wished that Mandy were also at the farm so that she could get her chops licked too.
And the beautiful thing was that there was no longer any doubt in his mind as to how Donna felt about him. A rush of confidence raced through his veins, and suddenly he didn’t feel the need to crush Amy now that they were alone together—she wasn’t important enough any longer.
“Did you teach her how to do that?”
Amy’s voice jerked him out of his reverie. “No,” he replied, “but I sure am glad she did it, because I could only hit you if you were a man.”
“You really are an asshole.”
Josh smiled. “Yup. That I am.”
“So this is how you’re going to end it?” Amy asked, the blood slowly surfacing in her face again as her temper returned back full force. “You’re going to dump me in a barn? And for her? I don’t believe this. You’re making a huge mistake.” Her disdain made the nasal tone of her voice even more annoying than usual.
“No,” he said, shaking his head and walking closer to Amy, “you know what was a mistake? Me ever trying to salvage things with you since this was obviously doomed from the start. Taking you to Hawaii instead of her was a mistake—and you knew that as soon as we got off the damn plane. Hell, you knew it when we were flying over California and you tried to screw me in the bathroom.” His eyes were dancing now that he was on a roll. “It was a mistake convincing myself that having sex with you was enough of a relationship to keep me from going insane because I couldn’t have her.”
“You still can’t.”
“Don’t you dare try to stop me.”
Amy snorted. “I don’t think I’ll be the one, J. That’ll be Leo’s job when pictures of you and your ‘assistant’ are all over the tabloids. A sex scandal would really be the icing on the cake for this administration, wouldn’t it? And then there’s the other injured party in this delightful little triangle. I wonder what he would think of this little love-in you and Donna have going on in here?”
He raised a finger in her face to shut her up. “If I even begin to think that you’re talking to Sam or anyone else about what happened here, this time I’ll not only make you lose your job, I’ll make sure you can never show your face again in DC.”
“You and what army?”
“Don’t push me, Amy.”
She rolled her eyes, backing away slightly. “You know, I don’t think I ever said this to you when we first met each other, but I wish to hell I had. Fuck you, Josh.”
He just smiled at that and began to walk away, not caring about the straw that was still stuck to his bare chest and back.
“You know she was right, J.”
He knew he shouldn’t turn around, but his ego couldn’t help itself. He had to have a mental image to go with the end of Amy so that he could savour the moment he freed himself from chains he hadn’t even realised were dragging him down.
Amy had turned slightly to meet his gaze, her patented ice queen look bearing down on him. “Donna was right. It was never making love.”
She said it to hurl abuse at his prowess and manhood. A different Josh would have taken up her challenge and trounced her for daring to suggest such a preposterous notion. But from the moment he had held Donna in his arms, it was a new world, and Amy’s barbs just didn’t mean that much anymore.
His gaze met hers, and he smiled. “I know.” And then the smile reached his eyes. “I know that it was never making love with you. But it will be with her.”
**********
Donna sat on the edge of her bed, staring out of the window as the last rays of sun shone over the Bartlet farm. Her hands shook. Breathing deeply didn’t help, because every time she inhaled she thought there was still a taste of Josh on her skin and in her mouth. He had left his mark on her—she didn’t know whether to scream or sigh as her kiss-bruised lips continued to tingle.
It had finally happened.
Whatever the hell “it” was.
The entire world had turned upside-down so quickly and now her mind couldn’t catch up fast enough. More than anything she wanted just to close her eyes and let everything fall away…Josh, Amy, Sam…all of it, gone in a silent flash.
“Somehow,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes, “I doubt that’s going to happen.”
Especially not when she heard the door slam shut downstairs. There was a chorus of hellos from the group settled in the living room, and then riotous laughter. Was it Sam or Josh being the butt of CJ’s latest joke? Donna couldn’t tell.
Footsteps came up the stairs, walked past her room…then in front of it again. Pacing. Someone was pacing outside her door, like a lion smelling its prey. Every nerve in her body tensed as she waited for the door to open. She almost jumped out of her skin when a knock came first.
Girding her loins, she approached the door and pulled it a hairsbreadth open.
Brown eyes blazed into hers and before she could slam the door shut again, his hand was on it, pushing against her weight.
“Donna, let me in.”
“What are you doing here?” she whispered back in a scandalised voice. “You can’t come in.”
He dropped his hand and the door closed in his face. She leaned against the hard wood, aching inside. She listened intently, trying to make out his steps as he walked away.
“Donna. Please.”
It was the please that got her. His voice wasn’t angry or dangerous…in fact he’d never sounded more like—well, like Josh. Before she could stop herself her hand moved to the doorknob and she flung the door wide open.
Josh stood in the hallway, still clothed only in his damp trunks, with bits of straw dangling out of his wild hair. She stepped back and he walked into the room, waiting until she had closed the door behind him before speaking.
He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. His head dropped down, shaking slowly.
“Let me get you a towel. You must be freezing.”
“Yeah…thanks.”
“Here,” she said, coming back into the room from the ensuite bath. “Dry off in the bathroom. And you’ve got straw in your hair,” she pointed out as he walked past her. He stopped when their bodies were nearest to each other, his eyes boring into hers—and she knew that she was staring right back. The hairs on her arms rose as the heat emanating from his body touched her skin.
“So do you,” he replied, and then reached out to grab a piece from her hair. His hand then drifted down, one finger softly tracing the outline of her jaw, then moving up to trace her lips. “Keep it—it’s one helluva souvenier.”
“You’d better…you know…dry yourself,” she said, hoping that he wouldn’t notice her body shaking from his slightest caress. He nodded, but moved his thumb against her lips first, nudging them apart so he could feel a hint of her mouth.
The door to the bathroom closed, but Donna stayed frozen where she stood. Any wish to move was lost again as Josh came out seconds later, wearing the towel.
Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Wha…what are you doing…wearing…do you think that’s wise?”
“I hung my trunks over the shower rod so they could dry out. And I refuse to wear the bra and panties I found in there, so the towel was my only choice. Well,” he added, eyes twinkling, “not my only choice, but I figured you wouldn’t…you know.”
“Yeah…I mean no! But…wear whatever you like!” she stammered finally. With a sigh she walked away and sat down on the edge of the double bed, her head in her hands.
“This is a mess,” she whispered. “This is just one huge mess.”
“Why are you saying that?” he asked, kneeling before her. The towel was knotted at his hip and when he crouched down it gapped out just enough to give her a tantalising glimpse of the promised land. Donna squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to give into her crazed feelings again.
“Donna, this isn’t wrong. Trust me.” He grabbed her hands in his, needing to touch her if only for a moment. “This is right. This is right. You. Me. Together. I can’t just stop feeling this way—not after what just happened. And I don’t think you can deny it either.”
“I’m not denying that it happened. I’m just saying it’s not possible. You know that. We can’t for so many many reasons.”
“Because you’re…because you and…you’re sleeping with Sam.” He winced as he finally forced the words out, and his hands slowly fell away from hers.
Josh got up and began to pace the room as Donna continued to sit in silence. He stopped in front of the large picture window that looked over the front of the farmhouse. The leaves on the oak tree outside were a golden honey-brown. He watched in silence as a gust of wind ripped them off the branches and sent them scattering into the air.
Donna stared at the floor, tears streaming down her face. “I…I don’t know what more to say to you. I have to have my own life too. A while ago, maybe, but now…I can’t wait for that knight on a white horse anymore. He’s not coming.”
“I’m right here.”
“You’re late,” she snapped, perhaps more viciously than she had first intended. She glanced over her shoulder, not knowing what to expect next. He had turned to face her, and the dying sun shone in behind him.
Their eyes met like a thunderclap.
He rushed to her side, towel be damned, and held her in his arms. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against her hair, “I’m so sorry.” She clung to him, needing to ground herself somehow, and let the tears finally fall unimpeded. He stroked her back with strong, warm hands as she cried against his shoulder, murmuring again and again in her ear as the sobs racked her body.
After a few minutes the tears slowed, then stopped, but they still held onto each other, neither one wanting to be the first to let go.
In the end, he pulled back first, but only so he could cup her face in his hands and gaze longingly at her tear-strewn face. Moving as if in slow motion, he gently kissed away the tears that tracked down her cheeks. Her fingers dug into his back, wanting him closer despite it all, and the small moan that escaped from her lips as he kissed her closed eyes made him sigh as well. He moved closer, pulling one leg up on the bed to get a better angle, not realising how loose the knot was that held his towel in place.
As his hands began to race through her hair he pulled away, laughing softly, but keeping her head in his grasp. She opened her eyes, not understanding.
“You still have straw in your hair,” he said, smiling so that his dimples charmed her more than she thought possible. “Donna.” The tenor of his voice changed into a low growl that made her stomach flutter and her mons ache.
She opened her eyes now, compelled to look into that devilishly handsome face that smiled for her. As she saw the barely restrained passion in his eyes her body arched towards him, closing what little distance had remained.
“Oh, Josh!” She knew she sounded corny, but he was there with her, as equally caught up in the moment as she was.
“Donna,” he replied, “I need to kiss you.”
“You shouldn’t,” she moaned, shaking her head slightly, eyes downcast once more.
“I know, but I need to…I want to. Will you let me?”
There was such a sweet simple tone to the way he asked her permission that struck her to the very core. For all the blustering bravado, this was who Josh really was—who he always had been.
Before she could answer his request his fingers sought out a stray piece of straw amid her blond locks and plucked it out of her hair. He held it up and they both laughed.
Within a heartbeat the laughter died away, and suddenly they were fused together, devouring each other in a futile attempt to become one. His touch overwhelmed her senses as their tongues met and slid against one another, tasting, teasing, testing the limits of their mutual need. Her hands ran over his back, desperate to feel as much of him as possible now that their time had finally arrived. They leaned back onto Donna’s bed as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his solid weight joyfully nestled between her thighs.
It wasn’t until Donna raised one jean-clad leg around his waist that she realised the towel had long since dropped off to the floor. Without meaning to, her body froze beneath his as one thought pounded through her brain: Josh is naked…JOSH IS NAKED!
“Donna,” he groaned, sensing her sudden hesitation. “What is it?”
Her wide eyes met his and together they both slowly looked down their sandwiched bodies to see his hard, erect cock throbbing against the waistband of her denims.
“Oh,” he muttered, trying to hide the wave of embarrassment that swept over him. “Goddamn towel.” He looked away, unsure of what she wanted, until her hands turned his face back to her own.
Donna reached up to kiss him once more as her hand snaked down to wrap around him. He thrust gently into her tight grip and she marvelled at the sudden power she seemed to have over him. He was so hot and hard, and even as she thought it, her own arousal began to pool between her legs. She stroked him harder in a vain attempt to satisfy her own need to be touched.
“God, Donna. You’ve got to…just…oh, yes, yes…” He face contorted in agony as he reluctantly withdrew from her grasp. “You’re too much,” he sighed, moving his fingers over his face as he stared deeply into her deep blue gaze. He smiled and took another look down between them, this time focusing on her. “You have too many clothes on,” he murmured. He moved up to kiss the shell of her ear as his hands quickly rucked up the front of her sweatshirt. What he thought he had sensed before proved to be true as his hands found only the supple skin of her breasts, no bra in sight.
By this point Donna was beyond words. As Josh’s hands teased her sensitive breasts, an overwhelming need to be worshipped as some kind of goddess overwhelmed her. She arched her back slightly so that Josh could centre in on her nipples, needing his touch, his mouth. As though reading her mind he ducked his head and planted his lips around the taut bud, sipping at her sweetness. The gentle suction he applied increased as her hands cradled his head. Her mind drifted away on a wave of pleasure, cresting with every gasp and moan they made.
With senses heightened to such an extent, it was easy for her to hear the door close downstairs and the choruses of “Sam!” rise up the stairwell.
Josh, meanwhile, was happily oblivious to anything that didn’t include his present ministrations and his personal dream of seeing more of Naked Donna—the sooner, the better. So it came as rather a shock when Donna suddenly planted a knee in his stomach and heaved him off her luscious body.
“What the hell…” he started to snap, but Donna was already up off the bed and heading for the door.
“Oh my god,” she breathed, eyes shut against reality, “he’s coming upstairs.” She turned around to see Josh, still wonderfully naked, just sitting there on the floor, somewhat indignant and most definitely still aroused. She shook her head momentarily and rushed to him, dragging him to a standing position.
Unfortunately, he squealed, as the first thing she had latched onto was his tangled head of hair.
“Shut up!” she hissed. “Sam’s coming.”
“Oh, lover boy,” he snarked back.
Rolling her eyes, Donna shoved Josh towards the bathroom. “Get in there and don’t make a sound!” He knew she was serious from the look in her eyes and decided now was no time to make a scene. He nodded and headed for the bathroom.
“Josh!” she said in a loud whisper. He turned around only to have the forgotten towel thrown in his face. He grabbed at it and then gave her a wink before shutting the ensuite door behind him.
Donna had just enough time to run her fingers through her hair and pull her sweatshirt down over her breasts, still wet from Josh’s mouth, before there was a knock at the door.
“Donna? It’s me.”
“Sam? You…you don’t want to see me right now. I’m just changing from the dunk tank. Um…I’m not decent.”
“I like it when you’re not decent,” he replied, his laughter audible even through the heavy door.
She took three quick breaths, trying to stop herself from completely hyperventilating. Breathe, breathe…better. The door opened and Sam entered the room, his hair wind-blown from being outside, his eyes dancing with merriment.
“Hey you,” he said softly as he wrapped his arms around her, “I feel like I haven’t seen you all day.”
With her head still pressed against his shoulder she answered him. “I’ve been busy.”
“I’ll bet you were. I heard that Josh proved to be quite a handful.” Donna tensed momentarily at his words, praying with all her might that no sound would come from the bathroom. A few seconds later it was still silent.
“When are we heading back to DC?” she asked.
“Not really sure. Annie and her friends are camping out in the barn tonight and the Bartlets have invited all of us to just crash here in the farmhouse. The President seems quite keen on the idea of making us all his homemade chocolate chip pancakes in the morning. Why?” He looked closely at her for the first time since entering the room. “Is something up?”
There were just a few too many answers to that one.
“No…no,” she replied, covering. “I just didn’t know if you were getting tired of being worshipped and adored by your little harem of young women.”
“Well, it’s a rough life keeping all the ladies happy,” he joked. As he talked Donna moved and sat on the bed, legs crossed underneath her. “I feel that after today I know what Josh goes through with his harem. But I really don’t mind…Annie’s a good kid.”
“She is.”
Donna began to play with the patterns on the quilt, tracing the various squares of cloth with her finger. Her hair draped down over her shoulders, hiding her eyes. Such a gesture only made Sam stare harder at her, trying to figure out what was wrong. Then he saw it.
“Donna? Why are your lips swollen?”
“They are?” she squeaked, her hand immediately covering her mouth, feeling the truth against her palm.
“Yeah…what happened? You look like your mouth got mauled by a bear.”
Thinking fast, Donna latched onto the first plausible excuse. “Didn’t you know that Lord John Marbury has been traipsing about the farm for the past hour? If you think I look rumpled you should see Margaret!”
“Marbury is here?” Sam asked, clearly wondering what he had missed.
“He’s a favourite of Annie’s—he keeps hinting that he might be able to set her up with Prince William, or maybe Harry.”
“When did he get here?”
“Not too long ago.”
“He wasn’t downstairs with the others.”
“Well, he must be around here somewhere.”
It seemed that Fate took pity on poor Donna for at precisely that moment the front door blew open. “GERALD! Good to see you, old man! It seems that Mistress Annie wanted to hide me away until your amusing American entertainments became utterly dull.”
Sam made a dash for the door, throwing it open to make sure it wasn’t Toby trying to give Leo a heart attack. “Well, I’ll be…it is Marbury! I’ll have to go down and say hello.”
“I think I’m going to stay up here a bit more. I’m very tired suddenly.”
He came back to her side and ran his fingers through her hair, letting her rest her head against his stomach. “Listen, I know it’s been hell the last little while, what with Amy screaming at you and all this election tension. But I’ve got a plan.”
“You have a plan?” She smiled against his stomach, loving the smell of his shirt even though she knew this entire conversation was killing Josh, hidden away but within full earshot.
“Of course I have a plan. I wasn’t a Boy Scout just for the badges, you know.” They shared a tentative smile and then he pressed her back against his midsection. “Anyway, next weekend we’re going away. No more schedules, no more meetings or having conversations with people we don’t like. Let’s just be us for a little while.”
“Where would we go?”
“Leave that to me—I’ve got a few ideas.”
“If it was anyone else saying that, I’d be incredibly afraid.”
He bent down so that they were at eye level. “You have nothing to be scared of. Everything will be just fine—I promise.” After kissing her ever so tenderly he stood up. “Why don’t you have a nap?” he suggested. “I’ll come and get you for birthday cake.”
“I think that might be best.”
“Okay, I’ll come get you in a bit.” He walked toward the door and was halfway out into the hall before he leaned back into her vision. “Oh, and stop kissing those blasted Brits! Otherwise, I might get jealous!” He said it all with a twinkle in his eye, but his words only made Donna's heart shatter into a thousand pieces.
After the door had remained closed for another twenty seconds, she walked over and let Josh out of jail. He walked back into the bedroom, once again wearing his damp trunks, without saying a word or even looking at Donna.
When he reached the door she couldn’t stop calling out to him. “Josh!” Her voice was so full of emotion he had to look at her, but his own face now hid everything.
“You’re right, Donna,” he said, staring at her but not moving an inch closer, “this is a fucking mess.”
The door closed quietly behind him. Donna stood without moving, without breathing for endless moments. Trembling from emotional overload, she lay down on her bed and turned off the light. Tears seemed too much of an effort at that point and so, dry-eyed, she put her head down and watched through the window as night washed over them all. She didn’t even notice when her eyes closed in restless sleep.
*********
In the end, Sam didn’t come to wake her up. No one did. When she finally came to, there was a note next to her pillow in black marker.
It read: Couldn’t bear to wake you. You’re so beautiful when you’re asleep. See you in the morning. Love, S. p.s. Any reason why Josh would be pissed at me? He refused to talk to me or anyone else for the entire night.
Switching off the light again, Donna let herself drift back into her dream—that oh-so-satisfying dream where she had been in the shower. Closing her eyes against the moonlight pouring through the window, she slipped back into semi-slumber.
The water felt hot over her aching body. There were so many parts of her that felt luxuriously heavy—lazy from loving. The muscles in her thighs clenched together as a male body stepped in behind her, pulling her back against him. His hard cock pressed against her ass as large firm hands traced soapy patterns across her breasts, against each individual rib and down past her stomach to tease the curls concealing her sex. She arched against his knowing touch and brought her arms about to link behind his neck even as she ground her ass against his hardness.
His growling chuckle in her ear made her turn in his arms to face him, blue eyes locked with brown. Backing her against the tiled wall, he lifted her above him so that she slid lasciviously down his body before impaling herself on him.
The climax was swift and sure and soared into the heights of mutual gratification. His seed coated her insides in a white-hot rush, moments before his skilled hands circled her clit into a second climax while she still recovered from the first.
In the moonlight, Donna’s fingers continued to caress her sex beneath the blue lace of her panties. Her nipples were hard from the wanderings of her imagination.
Back in her fantasy, Josh carried her out of the bathroom and lay her down on the bed, where Sam proceeded to pull her under the covers, kissing at her neck and breasts as she ran wet fingers through his hair. She could see how erect he was already and the desire to give him release flooded through her, causing her blood to thrum and pulse.
Her hand gently curled around him and he groaned in her ear, whispering a thousand different love words, as she moved her hand up and down on him. His cry as he came sounded far away, but then his mouth attacked hers, pressing, seeking, demanding union no matter what the price.
For a slight moment Donna wondered just where Josh had got to, but then was pleasantly surprised to find him slowly kissing his way up her legs, stroking her skin with his supple tongue, tracing a path to her wet centre.
The first touch of his tongue made her sigh. Then the double action of Sam kissing her mouth and tantalising her tender breasts combined with Josh licking, nipping and plunging into every crevice of her moist self made her shatter into countless continuous orgasms. Each peak dipped and then rose again as her men made love to her, adoring her body until she dissolved into white, bright nothingness.
Donna cried out as her circling fingers finally brought her to the crest of release. Her eyes opened to see the darkened room, full of shadows, and encircled by the silence of a quiet house. She looked once more at Sam’s note before lying back down and sleeping once more, physically sated but emotionally bereft.
********
It was 2AM. Donna had tried counting sheep, tried counting backwards from one hundred…nothing worked. She thought of heating up a glass of milk, but decided instead on taking a quick walk in the brisk night air.
When she got downstairs she headed out onto the porch and breathed deeply, enjoying the crispness rushing into her lungs.
“Donna? What are you doing out here?”
She spun around to find the President standing in a darkened corner, a lit cigarette held between two fingers.
“Oh, I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr President.”
“Think nothing of it.”
“Really?”
“Of course. But back to my first question—why are you keeping such odd hours tonight?”
She shrugged and went to sit on the railing next to him. “I don’t know. I’m just not tired.”
He took a long haul on his cigarette, watching her closely. “Donna, you know I think of you as family,” he said as he exhaled, “as another daughter.”
She smiled. “Thank you, sir.”
“So I want you to feel comfortable telling me anything that’s bothering you.”
She paused, weighing her options. “Do you think…”
“Yes?”
“Mr President, don’t think badly of me for this, but…can I bum a smoke?”
He nearly started choking at her request, but seeing the exhausted look in her face, he grudgingly pulled out his pack, still half-full, and lit the cigarette for her after she had taken one. Donna inhaled slowly, trying to remember how to do this properly from her days back in high school, sneaking a smoke behind the portable.
“You know, Donnatella, those things will kill you,” the President said.
“Fantastic.”
That was definitely not the kind of answer he was expecting. For a few minutes they smoked together in companionable silence. Donna stared at the cigarette in her hand for an endless span of time, watching carefully as the red cinders slowly turned black, then grey, and then scattered to the floorboards.
“Donna? Tell me what’s going on.”
His voice was gentle, soothing. And she knew she could trust him not to push her beyond any limits she set.
“Mr President…Sir…”
“Yes?”
“You know the story of Camelot, right?”
He chuckled, but without the slightest hint of malice. “I’m not Jack Kennedy, but I know the stories well enough. Why?”
“Do you…” She paused long enough to suck back the smoke and then exhaled as she spoke. “Do you think that Guinevere belonged with King Arthur or Sir Lancelot?”
“Hmm—it’s an interesting question. Most historical evidence would suggest that there was some figure in sixth century Britain that might have been the basis for the Arthur character, and some ancient Welsh manuscripts even allude to a Guinevere, but Lancelot was definitely the construct of French troubadours. So in an historical sense, there never was any love triangle.”
“Yes, but…” She wondered how to phrase her question without insulting the President’s amazing capacity for obscure trivia. “But in the fantastic sense then—was going off with Lancelot a bad thing, or was she never supposed to marry Arthur?”
“What are you trying to say, Donna?” he asked, leaning in slightly. His voice was full of fatherly concern.
“I’m just wondering about doomed love affairs.” She looked up at him quickly. “I’ve been reading a few too many romance novels late at night, I suppose.”
“I thought all those Harlequins ended happily?”
She sighed. “Most of them do, actually.”
“Well, in the purely hypothetical sense, I suppose Arthur and Guinevere never really had a chance. Most of the legends say that they loved each dearly, but that it was nothing compared to the true love between Lancelot and the Queen. And don’t forget, Arthur may have had a lost love too—though I don’t think I would have thought that entirely plausible before reading The Mists of Avalon.”
“You’ve read that too?”
“I think most people have. Fantastic premise, sussing out the context of the Lady of the Lake.”
“So,” she said, picking up on the President’s theory, “what you’re saying is that Lancelot and Guinevere always belonged together and that it was just unfortunate Arthur got hurt?”
“I don’t think there was ever any intention to destroy Camelot on purpose, no. But how could they resist such a tidal wide of passion?” At this point the President moved slightly out of the shadows to take centre stage and began to sing, arms stretched out, puffing out his chest.
“If ever I would leave you
How could it be in springtime,
Knowing how in spring I’m bewitched by you so?
Oh no! not in spring-time,
Summer, winter or fall!
No, never could I leave you at all!”
The front door opened and Abbey stepped out in a terry-cloth robe. “All right, Robert Goulet, that’s about all I can take for tonight. Get back inside. Donna? Is that you?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” she answered sheepishly, butting out her cigarette on the railing.
“I didn’t expect to find you out here with the crooner.”
“I don’t croon,” the President interjected, “I’m more impressive than that.”
“Okay, you keep on thinking that, Broadway Boy. Donna? Is there anything wrong?” Abbey asked.
“No, no, I’ll be fine.” Donna walked towards the door but the President caught her arm.
“One last thing, Donna. Don’t get too hung up on old legends and fairy stories. Whatever is going on inside that head of yours isn’t a doomed recreation of Camelot or Casablanca. Not everything has to end with tears and goodbyes—I know you’re strong enough to write your own story, not live vicariously through others. And who’s to say that Arthur and Lancelot can’t be one and the same?”
The Bartlets disappeared inside, leaving Donna alone on the porch, lingering in the chilly breeze as the President’s words sunk in and slowly took hold. When she did go back inside and up to bed, she swiftly fell asleep and dreamed of Richard Burton and Robert Goulet.
********
Breakfast could have been better—not that the President’s pancakes were terrible, but Sam definitely was picking up on some weird vibes. Josh still wouldn’t even look at him, and he hadn’t had a chance yet to ask Donna why. The thought that his best friend had found out about his love affair with the girl of both their dreams didn’t even raise a glimmer in the back of his mind.
Donna looked pale and withdrawn across the table. It killed him not to be touching her, but he had his own problems to contemplate that morning. First and most importantly was where the hell did that dream about Ainsley come from? He hadn’t seen the Republican Sex Kitten in weeks, maybe months, and suddenly his Donna fantasies had showcased a new blonde. It was unsettling.
The other burr under his saddle was Amy—she kept trying to talk to him in private. She’d even been daft enough to try and see him in the middle of the night. Needless to say, he’d never opened the door more than an inch, and then only that to tell her to go bother Josh instead.
A get-away with Donna—that was just what he needed. A chance to leave behind all this crap…also a chance to get her away from Josh and his foul moods. After he got a bit more sleep, he was going to take Mr Deputy Chief of Staff aside and try to give him a clue about what a jerk he was being to, well, everyone.
“Good morning all!” The cheery bellow from Lord Marbury was enough to send Leo scurrying into the kitchen. Sam didn’t really blame him—the Gerald thing had to be getting old by now.
Lord John walked around the table, taking in what was on everyone’s plate. “I see that the usual buffet will not be served? No? Ah well, I must be too used to dining at Windsor Castle—they’re very proper there.” He leaned close to CJ. “Principessa, do you have any idea whose this could be?”
CJ was so happily flustered at being called by her Italian name again that she hardly took in the baseball cap Marbury held in his hand.
“That’s mine,” muttered Toby, reaching for it across the table. “Except Donna was the last one wearing it. I thought you said you lost it,” he said, turning to where Donna sat beside him.
“I thought I did,” she muttered. If Sam noticed how she immediately looked at Josh as a slight blush stained her cheeks, he thought nothing of it.
“Well, yes,” continued Lord John, “it seems that Mistress Annie and her friends found it last night while they camped out in the barn. She passed it along to me when I got back from my morning ride.”
“They were in the barn?” asked Josh, his voice rising to a squeaky level.
“I do believe that’s where they had their tents pitched, yes.”
“Bloody stupid place to sleep in,” Josh muttered. He then stuffed the remaining bits of food in his mouth and left the table to go upstairs. Scant seconds later Amy entered the room, her eyes narrowing in on Donna as she came closer.
It was when Amy’s glance turned to Sam and a cruel smile crossed her face that Donna decided she’d had enough. She rose quickly to her feet, nearly knocking over her glass in the process.
“Donna?” asked Sam. “Is anything wrong?”
“No…no, everything’s fine. I just…” Her voice petered off for a moment as she and Amy exchanged baleful glares. “Excuse me,” she mumbled and then took off, racing up the stairs.
“I hope I didn’t do anything to make her go,” Amy said snidely, trying to play the innocent. “Actually, I’m heading back to DC and I wondered if anyone wanted an early ride.”
No one at the table said a word.
“Well, don’t say I didn’t ask.” Rolling her eyes, she turned to leave, then reconsidered. “Sam? Do you think you could walk me out to my car? I need to see you about that…thing…I mentioned last night.”
Ever the gentleman, Sam could hardly say no. He rose and left with Amy, shaking his head slightly in defeat and confusion.
Within seconds the entire table had fled the scene, except for CJ and Charlie. When he tried to leave too CJ pounced.
“What the hell did I miss out on? Charlie…” Her voice suddenly became smoother, more conspiratorial, like a cat toying with its next meal. “Charlie…you wouldn’t happen to know what’s going on here, would you?”
“Who, me?”
“Don’t give me the brush-off, Chaz. I know the way you work, which means you must have had your ear to the ground on this one.”
He looked her right in the eye, the epitome of non-chalance. “CJ, do I look like the kind of guy who would know any gossip about any of the people I work with?”
Just then, Josh and Donna came hurtling down the stairs and raced outside.
There was a long pause, then CJ looked at Charlie and raised an eyebrow.
“Okay,” Charlie began, “I’ll tell you what I know—but it’s really not that much.”
CJ smiled deliciously. “Spill.”
********
When Donna had first gone upstairs she had had no intention to find Josh. The fact that he was standing in her room took care of the matter for her.
“Hi,” she said softly.
“Hey. I…I wanted to see how you were.”
She smiled, not quite sure of what was going on. “I’m fine.”
“It doesn’t look like you slept much.”
“I didn’t.” She went and sat on her bed while he stayed over by the window, leaning against the wall, always watching her. “Actually, I ended up having quite the conversation with the President.”
Josh smiled. “Really? What about?”
Donna made a motion with her hand. “This. Everything that’s happened. But don’t worry,” she countered, seeing the panic look cross his face, “I did it all in code.”
“Code?”
“I started asking him questions about Camelot.”
Josh looked puzzled. “What do the Kennedys have to do with us?”
“No, Mr Smartypants, not that Camelot. The other Camelot—Arthur, Guinevere…any of that ring a bell?”
“Sort of,” he answered, running a finger through his unruly hair. “I’m just amazed you would try that scenario with him.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought he would have trapped you in a small room lecturing on Thomas Malory and how Lancelot, Guinevere and Arthur were all screw-ups.”
Donna giggled. “He didn’t quite do that. He sang.”
“Excuse me?”
“He started singing from the musical.” By this point, Donna felt a need to establish some kind of physical connection with Josh, so she scooted down to the edge of the bed, lessening the distance between them.
“I bet he thinks he does a damn good Richard Burton,” Josh said, his voice changing slightly in pitch as he took in Donna’s latest actions.
“Actually, he was Robert Goulet.”
“In that case I’m very glad I was asleep.”
They both laughed and the tension between them suddenly disappeared. He reached out and grabbed her hands, slowly bringing her to her feet.
“Good morning,” he whispered, and then pulled her into his arms. Rarely had a hug ever felt so good. They melted against one another, taking strength from the other’s weakness. As Josh’s lips began to nibble on her neck, Donna sighed.
“Of course, the President and I never got around to deciding which one of you is Arthur and which one is Lancelot.”
He pulled away slightly, still keeping his arms around her waist. “You’re just automatically Guinevere?”
“Who else would I be—Merlin the Magician?”
“Well,” he teased, “you did spark off a few fireworks earlier.” He went back to tasting her delicate skin, but something outside caught his eye.
Almost immediately his body froze and all of the anger and tension seeped back in.
“Josh? What’s going on?”
He moved away to take a better look out of the window and then grabbed her hand, pulling her along with him as he ran out of the room.
********
“She’s telling him. She’s fucking telling him.” Josh and Donna stood together near a copse of trees, watching while off in the distance, Amy and Sam stood talking next to her BMW. They too far away to make out what was being said, but it was obvious that Josh had jumped headfirst towards the most obvious conclusion. Neither of them could bring themselves to walk any closer—in case what was being said was actually the truth.
“She wouldn’t…would she?” Donna couldn’t take her eyes away from the distant scene. “Even she wouldn’t be that cruel—she wouldn’t be hurting you or me, she’d be hurting Sam. And he hasn’t done anything…”
“Hasn’t done anything?” Josh spun her around, more roughly than he had intended, pinning her with the fierce look in his eyes. “Of course he’s done something. He’s taken you away from me.”
Donna rolled her eyes, not believing they were having this conversation again. “I wasn’t yours to begin with.”
“The hell you weren’t.” He leaned forward to kiss her. She had expected a similar ravishing to what he had given her yesterday in the barn, but instead his lips bathed hers with such tenderness and overwhelming passion that she almost let herself fall into his forbidden embrace once more.
Coming to her senses, she pulled away, eyes darting anywhere but in Josh’s direction. “We can’t. Not like this. Not so out in the open—God, Josh, anyone could have seen that just now!”
“I didn’t hear you complaining,” he snapped.
“Go to hell.” Donna began to walk away, but the only escape open was to edge closer to Sam and Amy’s illicit conversation. What was she saying to him? Neither of them noticed as she slowly moved in closer, near enough that she could just make out some of what they were saying.
“You’re full of crap, Amy, and you know it.” The tone of Sam’s voice was full of disdain and disbelief.
“You’re just in denial. I know what I saw.”
“You were imagining things. Nothing has ever happened between Josh and Donna—it’s preposterous.”
Amy looked away, running a hand through her hair in pure frustration. “Fine,” she spat, “fine, if you don’t believe me I’ll just have to show you. You tell me if this isn’t crossing the line between friends and lovers.”
No one had expected Amy’s next move, least of all Sam. Before he knew what was quite happening, Amy’s body was pressed flush against his, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her mouth doing things that went far beyond a casual kiss.
And to Donna’s absolute horror, Sam responded in kind, his hands clenching at the back of Amy’s shirt, his mouth moving over hers of its own volition. His reaction lasted only a moment, but it was long enough for Donna to cry out as pain and jealousy stabbed through her.
Sam pulled away from Amy’s clutches, his face a flurry of emotions as he turned to see Donna standing close by, her mouth open in shock, eyes flooding with the shine of unshed tears.
The agonising moment was broken by Amy’s laughter. “This is better than even I could have planned! Wholesome Wisconsin Donna arrives to see her world fall apart. What timing! You must have known you couldn’t have them both, Donna. You would have had to choose sometime—I just made the choice easier for you, that’s all.”
“Donna, I…” Sam couldn’t get words out. Here Amy had been spewing garbage at him about Donna and Josh being lovers and yet he was the one who had been found out—and for only a second’s transgression. He reached out for her, but she turned and fled, running as fast as she could.
Sam continued to stand there, unable to speak or move, long after Amy had driven off. He vaguely became aware of someone approaching him, but his mind was still off with Donna, wherever she had run to.
“Sam!” Josh yelled yet again. When he still got no response he walked up to his best friend and pushed him. Sam snapped out of his trance-like state and stared at him, wide-eyed.
“Josh? What the hell…What just…Donna…”
Josh shook his head. “You’re not doing too well there, are ya, buddy? Here, let me help.”
In one fluid movement Josh clocked Sam with a wicked right to the jaw. Sam fell to the ground, cradling his face as he winced in real pain. Josh wasn’t doing that much better, considering that it felt like he had broken every possible bone in his hand. “God, that hurts!” he grimaced. He looked down at Sam, not quite knowing what to do next. “When we get back to DC, we’re having a little talk. Just the two of us.”
“Should I bring my boxing gloves?” Sam muttered, still stroking at his jaw.
“No, I think that’s out of my system now. But there is no way we’re not hashing this out in full detail. Got me?”
“Sure.” Sam struggled to his knees and stretched out a hand for to Josh help him up.
Looking back, it was a bad move, because as soon as he stood upright, Sam punched Josh right back, flattening him.
“Now it’s out of my system too.”
“Great,” Josh muttered, flat on his back. “Glad to know I could help you out there.” As he struggled to his feet he flirted with the idea of starting an all out donnybrook, but there were still a lot of hours left in the day.
And so, slowly, both grimacing and holding a hand to a bruised jawbone, the two men called a truce, Neanderthal instincts well satisfied, and left the field in search of ice packs.
********
CJ gripped the steering wheel through clenched knuckles for the thousandth time as her car ripped down the highway. There she had been, peacefully enjoying Charlie’s gossip about Josh and Amy’s break-up and the rumours that Donna and Sam were involved in something no one knew about, when the door had hurtled open. Donna’s face had been almost unrecognisable through the tears and sobs—next thing CJ knew, their stuff had been thrown together and she was driving the now catatonic Donna back to DC.
If the past hour seemed like a blur to her, she could only imagine the thoughts racing through Donna’s mind.
CJ had tried to spark some girl-talk—anything to get some response out of her friend, but Donna only shook her head and turned her face to the window, watching as the countryside flew by them.
“Donna? I’m not asking for all the details, or any really, but you’re making me really worried. What the hell happened outside?”
Her lip quivering, Donna took a deep breath, reaching out for control of her turbulent emotions. “I’m sorry, CJ,” she croaked out. “You’re…wo…wonderful to drive me back like…like this. But…I can’t…can’t get you involved. The fewer p…people who know about this, the…the better.”
CJ’s mouth shrunk into a firm line. “I’m going to have to kill Josh and Sam, aren’t I?”
“And me right along with them.”
CJ turned and stared at Donna, desperately trying not to jump to conclusions. But it was all there in Donna’s face—she never had been very good at hiding things when she was in trouble. “Just—just tell me…God, I don’t even know if I want to hear this.”
“It’s a…a definite screw-up.”
“Oh, dear.” CJ shook her head and sighed deeply. “Right, we get back to the city, you come to my place for the night and we figure out what the hell comes next. Sound good?”
Donna took a deep breath and gave a half-hearted attempt at a smile.
“Right, my place, nail-polish, lots of fattening ice cream—maybe a couple of old Cary Grant movies to make us get really emotional…” CJ stopped with her verbal list of things to do and reached one hand over to grab Donna’s fingers. “It’ll be okay, Donna. I’m here for you.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
CJ paused, wondering if she should press just a bit further. “Donna—seriously here—did IT finally happen?”
When she looked over at Donna she was shocked to see the complete calm that had come over her friend’s face. Not a tear in sight, Donna looked straight ahead, focusing on the horizon.
“I think it did,” she replied.
“Holy hell.” Unsure that anything more could be said in return, CJ gripped Donna’s fingers a little tighter and then turned on her CD player.
As the music washed over Donna, she recognised the disc as one of CJ’s favourite mixes—a lot of songs from movies that involved people she had known back on the West Coast. The current song had been from a huge hit—the kind of picture CJ lamented about wanting to have been involved with. And as she listened, the words seemed to have new meaning for her.
Never knew I could feel like this
Like I’ve never seen the sky before
Want to vanish inside your kiss
Everyday I love you more and more
Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing
Telling me to give you everything
Seasons may change, winter to spring
But I love you until the end of time.
Images of Josh and Sam flooded her vision—the look on Sam’s face the first time they had kissed—the light in Josh’s eye when their banter was quick and hot—Sam’s angelic face relaxed in the sleep of the content—the burning touch of Josh’s hands and mouth—Sam’s gorgeous smile—Josh’s sexy smirk…
How could she have such overpowering feelings for two men that were so different—and yet, at times, they could be each other’s shadow. How was this every going to end?
And there’s no mountain too high
No river too wide
Sing out this song and I’ll be there by your side
Storm clouds may gather
And storms may collide
But I love you until the end of time.
Donna knew she had to make a decision—and that its consequences went far beyond the problems of three little people. Whatever choice she made it would have serious effects on work, the campaign, maybe even the Presidency—and definitely her own future.
Being noble wasn’t her strong suit, so she could only pray that someday he would understand. And for now, she would just have to hold onto that.
Come what may
Come what may
I will love you until my dying day.
TBC
Feedback makes me sing more Cheesy Love Songs! ballynihinch@hotmail.com