**Disclaimers** Thanks to Carrie for being a fabulous editor! This one's for Katie C. because
her voice sounds unbelievable when she sings the title track.
Song Credits: Trouble in the Fields - Sarah Harmer from the Songs for Clem album;
Bizarre Love Triangle - Frente's cover of New Order; As The World Falls Down - David
Bowie on the Labyrinth soundtrack; What About Love - Heart
It is impossible to repent of love.
The sin of love does not exist.
~ Muriel Spark
“Will you look at this?”
Donna heard the flop of something hitting her desk, but she didn’t turn to see CJ
behind her until she had closed down her game of Free Cell on the computer.
“What is it?” she asked, cringing slightly.
“It’s this week’s Teen People. Annie’s birthday party got the cover story.”
She looked up at CJ before reaching for the magazine. Whether she meant to or
not, CJ had managed to drop it right between two photos of Donna and Josh from years
past. And from the look at the White House Press Secretary’s face, Donna didn’t think
that the news was all good.
A picture of Annie graced the cover of the magazine—most likely last year’s
school mug shot, Donna thought to herself. Without speaking she flipped to the cover
story and came across a black and white shot of Annie at the Bartlet’s farm the weekend
previously, surrounded by friends and with an apparent death grip on Sam’s hand.
And who could blame the kid? From the looks of it, Annie Bartlet Graham
worshipped the ground Sam Seaborn walked on.
Donna smiled. “She looks cute.”
“Yes, well, Annie’s always adorable. But she’s not the trouble spot.”
“There’s a trouble spot?” Donna’s voice sounded extremely worried, as if her
worst nightmares were coming true. They couldn’t have got a photo of what
happened…no one had been in the barn except them…
Then again, it wasn’t like she and Josh had taken the time to scout every horse
stall in the barn before making out like wood-crazed beavers.
“How bad is it?” she asked.
“Flip the page.”
The next section continued had a short account of Annie’s birthday, but also
included photos of the White House staff getting in on some of the fun and carnival
atmosphere. The largest photo in the group was of Josh in the tank, moments after
surfacing from yet another dunking.
As she held up the magazine for a closer inspection, Donna’s face began to turn a
telltale pink.
In the photo Josh was dripping wet, rivulets of water running down his naked
chest. He must have been cold, too, because his nipples were hard nubs amid the slight
scattering of chest hair. Through the window at the front of the tank, one could just make
out his swimming trunks and the strong shape of his legs.
He looked sexy as hell.
But even more incriminating was the fact that, in the picture, Donna’s eyes were
glued to his chest—she could even remember the spot she had looked at, just to the left of
his scar where his pectoral muscle swelled slightly in fabulous detail. At the time, Donna
had been distracted by the wicked thought of what that small bit of skin would taste like,
how it would feel if she were to run her tongue across it, and whether or not she could
make Josh groan from the sensation. The fantasy had lasted for a split second at the
most. Unfortunately, the photo made it appear that she had been ready to jump into the
tank and taste all of him right then and there.
Josh’s expression was no better. His eyes seared into Donna’s face—he had been
ready to kill her, she remembered that part very well, but this certain photographer was
the next Annie Leibowitz, because Josh’s anger looked like nothing less than aching
arousal.
She began to squint to see if she could see his hardening shaft despite the tank,
water and trunks, but CJ ripped the magazine from her hands.
“Stop that,” CJ hissed. “I know just what you were thinking!”
Donna didn’t say anything, but her cheeks immediately turned from pink to bright
red.
“Well? What are we going to do about this?”
“CJ...” she sputtered, “I don’t…we didn’t know…I mean…”
“Donna, I really don’t want to make your life any more complicated that it
already is, but come on—the sparks from that picture nearly set the magazine on fire!”
“But nothing had happened then!”
CJ raised an eyebrow. “Honey, you’re blind as a bat.”
“I thought you got to OK the journalist covering the party,” she answered, trying
to change the subject.
“I didn’t think that Teen People would make Josh a drenched sex symbol,” she
deadpanned. “Only the college girls are supposed to be in the bloody harem, not pre-
teens.”
Looking over at the magazine again, Donna rolled her eyes. “Apparently Sam
still outranks him with the pre-pubescents,” she said, pointing out the small blurb about
Annie and ‘Sam Seaborn: The Perfect Man.’
CJ sniffed. “Thank God for small mercies!”
“Have you told Leo about this yet?”
“I’m on my way now. I thought you would want a head’s up first. I won’t say
anything to Leo unless he brings it up first—if he doesn’t pick up on it, I’m thinking
Ritchie’s people won’t notice either. And the chances of any political pundit actually
buying Teen People is, I hope, microscopic.” She turned to Donna and put a hand on her
friend’s shoulder. “Still, I need you to do some damage control just in case this somehow
gets wrapped into the news cycle. Can you talk to the Casanovas?”
“CJ! Be quiet!” Donna hissed, looking around the bullpen to make sure no one
else had heard CJ’s remark.
“Donna, I love you, you know that. But the election is next week. A sex scandal
now—even a misunderstood photograph—and it could be game over.”
“All from a picture of Josh in a dunk tank?”
CJ grimaced. “Yeah, I know, under any other circumstances most of Washington
would have this photo framed on their wall—or on their dart board. But it’s not that easy
right now. Just…just be careful, okay?”
Donna nodded and CJ marched off in the direction of Leo’s office. She sat down
at her desk and shut her eyes, shaking her head ever so slightly, as if everything were just
a bad dream.
If there already wasn’t an overriding need to talk to Sam, now she had no choice.
Baby, I know that we’ve got Trouble in the Fields,
And the bankers swarm like locusts out there,
Turning away our yields.
Trains roll by our silo, silver in the rain
Leave our pockets full of nothing,
But these dreams and the golden grain
See the folks lined up downtown at the station,
They’re all buying their tickets out,
And they’re talking of Great Depression.
Our parents had their hard times fifty years ago,
When they stood out in these empty fields
In dust as deep as snow.
And all this Trouble in our Fields
If this rain can fall these wounds can heal;
They’ll never take our native soil.
And if we sell that new John Deere
Then we’ll work these crops with sweat and tears.
You’ll be the mule, I’ll be the plough,
Come harvest-time we’ll work it out
There’s still a lot of love, here in these Troubled Fields.
********
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
Donna had hoped for a bit more of a response as she stood in the doorway of his
office. Still, they had to talk. “Do you have a couple of minutes?”
Sam looked up from his laptop. “Here? Now?”
She smiled, desperate to find their old rhythm together. It had never been hard to
talk to Sam…ever. And it was NOT about to start now, not if she could help it.
“I think we have to.”
He nodded and got up from the desk. “Let me just check in with Toby and then
we can go somewhere.”
When he walked past her their bodies brushed slightly in the narrow doorway. It
shocked both of them, especially since his walking across the carpet caused an actual
spark between them.
Toby’s reply was gruff and Donna couldn’t quite make out the words through the
closed door, but when the repeated sound of the rubber ball started to smack up against
the wall, she knew it was a go.
Sam came back out, his smile almost timid in nature. “Where should we go?” he
asked softly.
“Not here,” she replied quickly. “We—we shouldn’t talk about…about what we
have to talk about in the building. It just doesn’t feel right.”
His brow wrinkled for a moment in worry, but then relaxed when she smiled at
him. When he crossed the room to grab his coat, her heart thumped loudly in her chest.
Yes, she was nervous, but it wasn’t because of anything she had to say—more than
anything, she was afraid of what he would say about Amy. It was wrong in so many
ways, but she desperately wanted him to love her right at that moment.
“Lafayette Park?” he asked, coming back to her.
“Fine with me.”
On their way out of the building each of them felt a natural instinct to hold hands,
but both resisted—nothing should be seen as improper before the election was over—and
not even then. No more photographs, Donna thought to herself as they crossed the street
and walked over to a bench.
They both sat down, but neither spoke. Donna hadn’t felt this uncomfortable
since—well, since the last time she had sat on a bench with a man she loved. That night
it had been cold, and even as she thought it, a cool breeze blew down her neck, making
her shiver.
“Are you too cold?” he asked.
“Just not used to the cold snap yet.” Her answer was brief, but her mind was
going a mile a minute. How on earth could she bring up CJ’s photo crisis without hurting
Sam more than she ever wanted to? And even though she knew she was no angel, the
memory of Amy kissing Sam stung bitterly.
“Who’d have thought we were all playing around at the farm a few days ago,”
Sam said. There was an edge in his voice that made it sound like there was a lot of
bitterness on his side of things too.
Amy. She must have told him, Donna thought. Why else would he wait to
explain his own actions that horrible morning?
The silence descended again. Finally, Donna couldn’t help herself.
“Sam, what happened?”
“I have no idea,” he said sadly. He still wouldn’t look at her, even though she had
turned to face him.
“Why did Amy throw herself at you like that? What was she trying to prove?”
He waited a moment before answering. “I don’t know. I only know it will never
happen again.”
“But I saw you…you kissed her…I saw you.”
He tilted his head back, eyes closed. “It was a reflex. I don’t know how else to
explain it. I didn’t want it. It was…I don’t know.” Words left him until he gathered the
courage to look at her and saw his own reflection in the blue of her eyes. “I’m sorry it
happened—so sorry. You’ll never know how much I regret that Amy was there. I
always will.”
Donna nodded, knowing that was the only answer he could give without knowing
more. And as she sat there with him, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to know. Why did
she have to hurt him? What was the point? Couldn’t Josh take the rejection better than
Sam? But then—was she ready to let go of Josh so soon after they had finally begun to
act on that…that thing that had always hung between them?
“I know we’ve both made mistakes,” she conceded. “I shouldn’t have run away
like that. But it…it hurt, it hurt a lot to see you responding to her, as if it was the most
natural thing in the world. I can’t help feeling lost.”
“Look, Donna, it was a mistake—I don’t know what else to say about it. It meant
NOTHING to me—nothing at all. It just happened.” He paused, waiting, hoping she
would say it—confess that she and Josh had played him for a fool—and yet praying that
her silence meant Amy was wrong.
“What about you?” he continued. “You seemed kind of—well—off-kilter this
weekend.”
“Maybe, yeah.”
She looked down at her hands and his heart sank. Still, he wouldn’t press for
something he didn’t want to know anyway. He would hear it from her lips, or it wouldn’t
be true—he couldn’t stand any other option.
“What got you all riled up like that? What happened?”
She sighed. “A lot just seemed to happen all at once. I couldn’t control anything.
One moment I would be laughing, the next—the next I would see everything tumbling
down.”
“We should have told everyone about us a long time ago.”
“Some people already know.”
“Really? Who?”
“Margaret, CJ…Amy?”
“Yes,” he exhaled, “she figured it out.” Taking another deep breath, he asked the
most important question of all. “Josh?”
“Yes, I told him. I had to.”
“That would explain why he punched me.”
“From what I heard from CJ, you got even with him for that,” she answered,
smiling slightly. She couldn’t help herself—it was just such a Josh-Sam moment.
Another time, they all would have laughed about it over drinks and pizza.
“We’re going to have to get back soon,” Sam said, looking back at the imposing
white building in front of them.
“What time is your flight to California?”
“In about two hours. I know Leo thinks it’s a bit crazy, but I really think I should
go to the people who were working for Wilde and at least give them our thanks.”
“And then tell them to pack up.”
“Basically, yeah,” he agreed, his voice somewhat hushed.
“Sam?” Donna asked, her eyes unreadable. “Are we okay?”
“How do you mean?”
“Us. Are WE okay?” She couldn’t believe the words that tumbled out of her
mouth. Hadn’t she come out here explicitly to tell him why they had to stop seeing each
other? Why then was she doing everything possible to save them?
“Do you want us to be?”
She thought he might be avoiding her in some part of his mind. Amy must have
told him something, but if he wasn’t going to clue her in, she didn’t want to take the
chance of crushing him utterly.
Donna felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. She loved this man beside
her with a passion unique unto itself. Josh had always been the sun in her universe: hot,
searing, brilliant, igniting emotions within her more powerful than she could have
imagined. On the other hand, Sam was like the moon: cool, radiant, calming, his
reflection showing her a vision of herself she had never before contemplated. But now,
she couldn’t tell if his love for her was waxing or waning. He was too hard to read, just
as Josh could be so blatantly obvious.
Remaining silent, she reached over and took his hand. He squeezed back, sending
blood zooming through her veins. Eyes the colour of the sea after a storm met those the
shade of a cornflower sky, and finally both smiled.
They didn’t let go of each other’s hand until they reached the street, and then
separated for appearance’s sake. But with every step, Donna felt the millstone of her
decision grow heavier. If this time with Sam had shown her anything, it was that she
couldn’t trust herself to make a choice when either Sam or Josh was with her. She
needed time alone—it was the only way to work this out.
As she and Sam went their separate ways in the lobby, Donna felt an
overwhelming urge to just run straight back out the door again and fly away somewhere
where none of this turmoil could touch her. But it was hours until she could go home—
and even then they would be off to San Diego the next day for the Presidential Debate.
There just wasn’t enough time—there weren’t enough hours in the day for her to come to
any decision fast enough.
********
Josh was waiting for Sam when he got back from being with Donna. It drove him
crazy that he didn’t know what had happened outside, but he trusted Donna to have done
the right thing. Or at least get the ball rolling.
Sam nodded as he walked past him into his office, and Josh followed close
behind.
“How’s your jaw?” Sam asked, hanging up his coat.
“Fine. I’ve been punched before.”
“Me too,” he smiled, almost laughing for a moment.
Josh took a deep breath, put his hand against the doorknob so that no one could
walk in suddenly, and launched into it.
“Look, I know things got crazy this weekend. What did Amy say to you?”
“Nothing that matters anymore.” He began to shuffle papers around on his desk,
not wanting to look at Josh when they were talking about this.
“What?”
“She said some crap about you and Donna. I’m thinking she embellished a lot of
it—she definitely still has issues where you’re concerned.”
Josh rolled his eyes. “Yeah, maybe she and Mandy can start up a fan club for me
or something.” He looked at Sam closely before continuing. When he spoke, his voice
was low—almost menacing, but too full of pain to be a true threat. “I still can’t believe
you’ve been with Donna all this time and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me.
Just thinking about it makes me want to slug you all over again.”
Sam looked up sharply, his patience already wearing thin. “I don’t think that’s
the wisest idea you’ve ever had. And I hate to point this out to you, but you don’t own
her.”
“I know that,” Josh snapped. He crossed his arms against his chest, willing
himself to remain calm even as the angry tension raced throughout his body. It wasn’t
that he owned Donna—he didn’t really believe in ownership within a relationship—but
he did have the strongest claim on her affections, at least in his opinion. A part of him
had always known he was in love with Donna and he’d only just begun to reconcile that
thought to whatever happened next between them. Lord knows, his mother had always
made it perfectly clear that Donna was the one for him. But, he hadn’t wanted to think it
when just a hint of scandal could ruin her life. And now, listening to Sam talk about
Donna, fear that he had lost his chance with her for good overpowered him.
“She was willing,” Sam continued, his voice uncomfortably composed. “It’s not
like I forced her to start up something she didn’t want too.”
Josh desperately tried not to picture Sam making love to Donna, but he couldn’t
stop his imagination from wandering into dark territory.
“I know that too,” he spat, his resentment nearly choking his words.
“Then…I guess that’s all there is to be said.” Sam didn’t want to gloat, it really
wasn’t in his nature, but he knew what had passed between him and Donna outside in the
park. Josh was still in the dark as far as he was concerned. And the odd thing was, even
though Josh had hurt Donna time and again, Sam didn’t want to see his friend suffer any
more than he had to. He didn’t know everything about what had gone on between the
two of them for the past five years, but Sam was sure that none of the pain had been
malicious on either side. “I’m sorry, Josh,” he said, looking his friend straight in the eye.
“None of this was done to hurt you, you have to believe that.”
Josh ran a hand through his hair in frustration, wanting to say something that
would make everything right, and also make Donna undeniably his. So much for the
ownership thoughts. “Sam, this is…I mean, you had every right…we can’t…there’s a lot
more here going on than you think…” He exhaled loudly. “Help me out here.”
Sam’s smile was bittersweet. “You don’t want this to wreck our friendship.”
“Do you think that’s possible?”
“I think so, so long as you can handle me and Donna being together.”
That piece of information hit Josh like a ton of bricks. “Together? You’re
together? No—you’re wrong there. Things have changed since you and Donna started
your little romance. She’s made up her mind—and I’m it.”
Sam raised his eyebrows in response. “I don’t think so.” His voice was sure, but
his hands were balled into tight fists. If Josh thought things were happening with Donna,
then Amy must have been right—and he was playing the fool once more. It wasn’t a role
he liked. “You might want to check things out with her, Josh. Donna and I have
something that’s real, something we’re both willing to fight for. You were nothing to her
but a dream—and I’m the new reality.”
“Oh, shut up!” he retorted, his tone one of disdain. “God! This is insane!” Josh
yelled. He was loud enough that Toby’s ball stopped bouncing off the wall for at least
thirty seconds before it started up again. “I know,” he barked, “how Donna feels about
me—things she wouldn’t dare deny. Just ask her. Have you done that? Have you asked
her who she really wants to be with?”
“I’d never take her for granted the way you have,” Sam growled back, Josh’s
characteristic arrogance goading his own temper. “Yes, I know Donna cares for you—
hell! it was her so being miserable about you and Amy off in Hawaii together that
brought us together in the first place!”
Josh was so angry and raw, he felt nauseous. What the hell was going on with
Donna? He’d left her that morning thinking that everything was about to work out
between them—all she had to do was let Sam down easily. So, when did his master plan
suddenly begin to backfire?
A knock on the door startled both of them out of their painful reverie. The door
shoved open before Josh could get out of the way, forcing him to move over near Sam’s
framed photo of the flag. Donna stormed into the room and began to shout before either
man could say anything.
“What the hell is going on in here?” she demanded. “I could hear you out in the
hallway! And what’s more, I could hear WHAT you two were talking about. I came
here to tell Sam something private, but since you’re here too, Josh, you might as well
hear this now rather than later.”
Josh and Sam looked at each other, faces stony but eyes flashing through every
emotion, before looking at Donna again. Neither of them wanted to speak for fear that
she would see even a small interruption as reason enough to tip the balance in favour of
the other.
“I have never been more confused in my life than I am right now,” she
announced. “And I don’t know what to do next. We’ve all lost track of who we are—
Josh, you’re not the type to be sneaking around behind your best friend’s back, and
Sam…” She broke off, searching for words that refused to come easily. “Sam, when you
look at me…like right now, with that—that expression on your face like you don’t know
who I am. Whatever Amy told you—and I still don’t know what that is, you should
know up front that Josh and I haven’t slept together.”
Sam made a motion as if to move towards her, but Donna immediately backed off
toward the door, her eyes wide and focused on the floor, hands still clasped behind her
back. “No, don’t…don’t touch me right now,” she murmured. When she did look up
again, her air was like that of someone truly haunted by the past. “I’m…I’m not the
person I thought I was before,” she continued, her voice caught between a wail and a
whisper. “I don’t know how to explain what’s happened…but I know something has.
And it’s going to take me a while just to get my head around whatever it is.”
Finally, Josh had to speak. “Donna, you don’t…”
“But I do, Josh,” she said, cutting him off. “I have to—I have to be honest about
something. I’m tired of hiding everything and anything that’s important to me—that’s
vital to who I am. And from now on, I don’t want anymore secrets in my life.”
“Donna,” Sam asked, his anger palpable in the small confines of the office, “are
you trying to justify me to Josh, or Josh to me?”
“Does it matter if I say right now?” she reply angrily, her own emotions finally
focusing on extreme fury at the position they were all in. “This is the most stressful time
of the year for us, and nothing that’s been happening has made it any easier. And now,
unfortunately, to top it all off, CJ told me this morning that somehow, this whole mess
has made it into the papers—admittedly, it’s just Teen People, but it’s enough..”
“Wait,” Josh interjected, “there’s a photo? Of what?”
“This,” Donna said in a too simple tone that betrayed her anxiety. She moved her
hands out from behind her back, throwing the magazine she had hidden down onto Sam’s
desk. The page showing had Josh and Donna’s picture front and centre.
Josh hung his head. “Oh my god,” he whispered.
“Donna…you didn’t…” Sam’s voice was so close to shattering that Donna’s first
reaction was to reach out and comfort him. But from what she had heard outside before
barging in, at this moment neither of them deserved much sympathy.
“No, Sam. I told you before, Josh and I didn’t have sex. But enough happened
last weekend to make me very uncomfortable with how things are now.”
“That’s an understatement,” Josh muttered.
“Josh, I’m serious,” Donna retorted, grabbing the magazine again, “don’t press
me right now. I’ve been on one of the biggest emotional roller-coasters in my life today
and it’s time for me to get off.”
“What are you saying?” Sam asked, frozen in his spot behind his desk.
“I’m saying I need time. We all need time—to think, to figure things out. You
two need to be concentrating on work right now, not on me.”
“Why don’t you just make it easy on us now?” Josh asked impatiently. “You
have to choose, Donna. Sam, or me. It can’t be both and the limbo is killing all of us and
making everyone around us suspicious.”
“Are you insane?” Sam quipped. “I don’t want to play around in any sick, twisted
version of the dating game. We have to prove who cares more for Donna—and I can tell
you right now, buddy,” he added, his scorn aimed at Josh, “you have been nothing to her
but grief for way too long.”
Before Josh could make a comeback of his own, Donna told hold of the
conversation.
“You’re both ridiculous!” she shouted, her exasperation reaching new heights.
“How dare either of you try to tell me how to live my life? I make choices for myself,
and I’m not going to let you two decide my future for whatever fits best with your
schedules. I’m not some prize you can win by flipping a coin.”
“But, Donna…” Josh began.
“No, Josh, I don’t want to hear another word. You two do whatever macho things
you want to impress each other, but don’t you dare expect me to just play along with your
game of who can piss the farthest. I need time on my own to make my decision, I don’t
know for how long. And until then, you two HAVE to be civil to each other—otherwise,
you’ll leave me with no choice but to resign. I’m serious…” Her voice began to break
off as the tears that she had held back for so long began to fall. “Just give me some
space, okay?” It was no longer clear if she was talking to one or both of them, but both
stood silently by as she fought for control of herself and then left the room without saying
anything more.
The door closed behind her, but before either man could chase after her, it flew
open again.
“THAT’S IT!” Toby yelled. “I don’t care about the little calamities controlling
everyone’s sex life. I don’t even want to know that you have sex lives. You don’t, as far
as I am ever going to be concerned. But, in case you two idiots have forgotten, we’ve got
an election here, and apart from the President playing sick jokes about not being ready for
his debate, we should all be taking this very seriously. Pull it together, leave your
personal crap at the door and STOP ANNOYING ME!”
The door slammed shut again.
“I take it the President won his bet about setting off Toby with phoney debate
answers?” Sam asked.
“Seems our Communications Director hasn’t gotten over it yet,” Josh replied,
attempting for humour, but falling flat.
“Josh,” Sam began, then paused. His anger was still just beneath the surface, but
he was determined to salvage something. “Josh, they both have a point—there’s an
election to think about here.”
“None of us can afford to get distracted, this of all weeks,” Josh said in
agreement.
“I’m leaving for California today.”
“So, we just leave this hanging there between all of us until after the election?”
Josh’s tone made the suggestion sound ludicrous.
“We’ve put our lives on hold to serve the President before.”
Josh took a deep breath and then, for the sake of all that was past, put himself on
the line. “Sam—I don’t want us to become enemies just because we both happen to think
Donna is…well…”
“Because she just is,” Sam finished for him.
“Yeah.”
“We were acting like children before,” Sam added, feeling a lot of chagrin.
“That’s a definite yes. I don’t blame her a bit for being confused—or pissed off.”
Sam nodded. “I know I am.”
“Me too.” Josh looked at his watch. “What time is your flight?”
“I should be leaving now, actually. I’d go and say goodbye to Donna, but…”
Josh shrugged his shoulders and then moved away from the wall. He walked
slowly over to the door of the office, his body betraying exhaustion on every level.
“Somehow this will figure itself out,” he said, not looking back to where Sam
stood. “Have a good flight—I’ll check in with you later.”
Sam couldn’t help himself from pressing the point home once more. “Josh, you
have to let her go. She was never yours to begin with.”
Josh looked up, the door half-open, and turned to see Sam behind him. “I’m
giving her time, Sam. I’m giving her anything she wants. You should do the same.”
Sam realised he’d stepped over the mark, but he refused to take back his words—
he was right, he knew it. Donna was her own woman, and Josh had to realise sooner or
later that he didn’t have sole rights to her. He opened his mouth to say more, but then
stopped, not knowing what to say next. “Can you…just, tell Donna I said goodbye.”
Josh nodded. “I’ll tell her.”
The door closed softly behind him and a new chapter began—and this time, Sam
wasn’t convinced that he could write the ending.
********
Every time I think of you,
I get a shot right through into a bolt of blue,
It’s no problem of mine, but it’s a problem I find,
Living a life that I can’t leave behind.
There’s no sense in telling me,
The wisdom of a fool won’t set you free,
But that’s the way that it goes,
And it’s what nobody knows,
And everyday my confusion grows.
Every time I see you falling,
I get down on my knees and pray.
I’m waiting for that final moment you
Say the words that I can say.
The Debate in San Diego went off without a hitch; in fact, it went better than any
single pundit could have predicted. The President was in form—he was himself, again, at
last—and every member of the staff revelled in his triumph over Ritchie. Sure, it might
have been unsportsmanlike, but gloating was a privilege few could truly enjoy in their
work, and that night they all took pleasure in being the victors.
Donna did her best to avoid Josh and Sam between their blow-up in Sam’s office
and Election Day the next week—it wasn’t easy, especially since she and Josh worked in
such close quarters and did their best work as a team, but he kept his word and didn’t
cross a single line or boundary.
That alone was enough to impress her beyond words. The fact that Sam also kept
his cool—at least in her presence—only made Donna more aware that the men vying for
her affections were not of the ordinary kind. In their own way, each was so different
from the other, and yet there was some single, mutual quality that overwhelmed her in
each of them: passion. They were passionate about what they did in the world—the good
that came from their struggles.
Yet, from their body language alone during that one lone, long week, she could
tell the strain on each of them to hold true to the truce that she had forced upon them.
And, looking back, neither of them made as much as a single mistake where she was
concerned.
The trouble was, with both Josh and Sam being so careful around her, so as not to
confuse or distract her at all from her job, she missed the casual, carefree contact that had
existed between them—between all of them, really. It wasn’t fair, but she had been the
one to set the rules.
The Rules.
She was certain that even the mention of such a phrase was enough to send Josh
into hysterics—but it had worked when his body was healing, and she had to believe that
it would work when her soul was healing from overuse as well.
And so, when Sam opened up to her about his promise to Will Bailey, she
couldn’t help but feel stunned and proud at the same time.
Throughout Election Day she had told herself that trying to find a Ritchie voter to
switch ballots with her was ‘an honour thing’…and hearing Sam recount his episodes
with the 47th District in California made her feel the same way—it had brought the best
out of him.
As she stood in front of the street vendor, Sam to her right—not even coming
close to brushing up against her as he would have one short week ago—Donna thought
that she just might be losing him…and that, perhaps, their future wasn’t in either of their
hands, but in those of unwitting voters on the other side of the country.
But more than anything else, standing out there on a shivery November day,
Donna was proud of her lover—proud that he had the gumption and conviction to stand
by his word, even when it might cost him a seat at the forefront of national politics.
And, as she slowly ate the top off of her banana muffin, she pondered the thought
of Josh doing the same thing—giving himself up for a greater good no matter what it cost
him in humility, vanity or national esteem. Sam was the perfect candidate for the job—
Josh, not so much.
As he turned and left her on the street to continue her search for some random
Republican voter, all that Donna wanted was to throw her arms around him and
congratulate him for being a more daring person than she could ever dream of being. But
such an action wouldn’t have been fair—to Sam or to herself. And so she stood in front
of the polling station, cold, alone, and feeling that one piece of the puzzle had been
slotted in to make the bigger picture—and that she had had no say in where it had fit.
********
Election Day had turned into Election Night—and Sam’s secret about the
California 47th was now public record. And Donna knew, even before they talked in
Toby’s office, that he was going to go for it. She could feel it in her bones…and looking
at him, sitting there—so open, and yet so unsure—a small point went to Sam in this game
she had somehow constructed for herself. Going in, she had been sure there would be no
winners, not really—now she knew it for sure.
“There’s still so much to take in, Donna,” he said to her softly later that night, at a
time when celebrations in the office were completely focused on Bartlet’s victory and not
Sam’s possible race.
She stood, leaning against the glass wall of her cubicle, smiling as CJ and Charlie
danced like fools at the other end of the bullpen. When Sam came up to stand next to
her, she had initially taken his presence for granted. Then, as the seconds passed, she
caught a scintillating whiff of his after-shave, still potent despite the late hour—and she
felt her senses come alive again. It had been so long since he had held her in their old,
familiar way. Odd, how really just a few weeks together had already left such a deep
impression it had felt like months, years—always.
She sighed and he inched closer, so that his body warmth could connect with her
own.
“I don’t even have to ask you if you’re going to do it, do I?” she said to him, her
eyes still fixed far off.
“It’s something,” he replied. “It’s a challenge…something I can fixate on…I
mean, it’s not like I’m actually going to win…” His voice drifted off and she had to turn
and face him, an eyebrow raised.
“I don’t believe that for a second.”
“It’s a lot to think about,” he reiterated. Out of instinct, he raised an arm to
casually drape across her shoulders, but he paused when their eyes met in the glass’
reflection. Her look was so damn confusing he had to drop his arm.
“Donna, I know this isn’t the time or the place, but the election’s over. We’ve
won.”
Her head fell back, her eyes raised to the ceiling. “I know.”
“I…well…the thing is…” He knew he was stammering like an idiot and that it
had to stop. His right hand drifted up to cup her face and turn her eyes toward his own.
“What I’m trying—very ineptly—to say is that I don’t want to lose you.”
For the first time that night, Donna truly let herself gaze at Sam—not just look or
glance, but gaze—deeply, longingly, without any barriers between the blue of his eyes
and the beginning of her soul. He stood there, his left arm up against the cubicle glass,
bent at the elbow to hold his weight as he leaned. His ankles were crossed one over the
other, the material of his pants showing everything and yet hiding the best parts too. His
tie was loosened—really, he was hardly wearing it anymore—and the top two buttons
were open, showing that bit of skin at the centre of his collarbone that she had spent so
many hours exploring.
“Donna,” he rumbled, drawing her in with just the timbre of his voice, “please, let
me fight for you. Don’t tell me we’re already lost.”
She had to speak, to say something in return to such—well, such an old-
fashioned, gentlemanly gesture. “Sam, this isn’t a game.”
“I know that,” he answered. “Just don’t tell me it’s impossible.”
It hadn’t struck her before just how much they were in the shadows. She was
reminded of all those years ago standing in a gym somewhere, with girls on one side and
boys on the other, some 80s power ballad droning out all conversation except for those
few twosomes whispering together in the shadowy corners—out-of-bounds, but definitely
on the right track. She smiled, equally for the past and the present, and her expression lit
up Sam’s face.
“Remember I said I wanted us to go somewhere—to have some time together?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding at the memory of their conversation in her bedroom at
the farm.
“Soon, before all of this California stuff takes over, let’s just go away for a night.”
Seeing her slight hesitation, Sam took the advantage of such an intimate moment and
pressed a bit more. “Donna, it’s all I’m going to ask for. We need time alone
together…that’s the only way we’ll know if this,” he pointed between them, “…if we still
have a chance at something bigger…something real.”
The answer was on the tip of her tongue, but it wasn’t until he slowly touched the
inner curve of one breast with his finger that she gave in. “Yes,” she breathed. “It’s
time.”
Sam smiled. Donna thought he might lean in for a kiss, but he surprised them
both by backing away and heading off towards the double-doors leading to the lobby. He
walked backwards, his eyes fixed on her until he reached the door.
“Tomorrow,” he said. “Just give me tomorrow.”
She closed her eyes, letting feelings she had purposefully dammed up for
impossibly long hours and days spill forth and race through her blood, making her tingle.
When she opened her eyes again, Sam was gone.
********
There’s such a sad love deep in your eyes
A kind of pale jewel, open and closed
Within your eyes
I’ll place the sky within your eyes.
There’s such a fool’s heart beating so fast
In search of new dreams, a love that will last
Within your heart
I’ll place the moon within your heart.
As the pain sweeps through makes no sense for you
Every thrill is gone, wasn’t too much further on
But I’ll be there for you
As the world falls down
Falling
Falling in love.
********
Donna sped down the highway in her tiny Honda, heading off into Virginia. Sam
had left her hand-written instructions and a highlighted map to get to Lake Fairfax, but
why she was heading off to a park, she couldn’t guess. Then again, Sam had always
managed to surprise her in so many delightful ways.
The President had called all the senior staff and their assistants together in the
Mural Room at the beginning of the day.
“All I wanted to say is this,” he began. “Thank you so much. I know this wasn’t
the campaign we all dreamed of, but together—and I can’t emphasise that enough—
together we pulled it off. But, when the history books write about our victory, I think,
deep down, I will owe the most thanks to a hidden pair of scissors and Josh’s
tie…again!”
They all laughed except for Leo who merely rolled his eyes, thankful he had
missed that certain episode at the debate.
“We’re here for another four years,” the President continued, “and we’re going to
make it the best four years possible. But, tonight, I don’t want to see any of you around
here. It’s been a long haul, so get out of my house and take the night off. Leo, make sure
they’re all out of here by 5pm. It’ll probably be the only early night until 2006.”
The group left the room chuckling and Margaret had immediately made a beeline
for Donna. “This will give you and Sam a chance to actually go on a date tonight, right?”
she whispered, her eyes gleaming.
Donna smiled back shyly and then had headed straight to the office without
giving Margaret a direct answer. If Josh didn’t put things together on his own, she surely
didn’t want him to hear about anything through Margaret’s second-hand gossip.
Now, looking out at the trees on either side of the highway in the twilight, Donna
vowed to banish all thoughts of Josh from her mind for the rest of the night. She was
going on this crazy fun trip to be with Sam—not Josh, but SAM. Her lover. Her friend.
Her boyfriend—if that title still had any merit after Annie’s birthday.
They had been lucky: no one in the press had picked up on the Teen People photo
beyond a few quips about Josh needing to spend more time in the tank at a later date.
Now, her copy of the magazine was worn and half-shoved under her bed at the
apartment, where she had thrown it after berating herself for staring at mostly-naked Josh
too many times.
A road sign announced Lake Fairfax was fourteen miles away and Donna
tightened her grip on the wheel. Sam had better be there already, she thought. I don’t
want to be hunting through the dark for him when it’s this nippy outside. It was already
well past six o’clock and she was beginning to get rather hungry. Better to obsess about
food than the weather, she thought.
To distract herself from thinking about the chicken salad back at the mess, or
from over-analysing what might happen during the next few hours, Donna put on some
music and began to sing along, finding new meaning in the words of an old favourite.
Good time for a change
See, the luck I’ve had
Can make a good man
Turn bad
So please, please, please
Let me, let me, let me
Let me get what I want
This time
Haven’t had a dream in a long time
See, the life I’ve had
Can make a good man bad
So, for once in my life,
Let me get what I want
Lord knows, it would be the first time
Lord knows, it would be the first time.
Donna’s only hope at that moment was that she had made the right choice.
********
“Sam, there’s no electricity in here.”
“Trust me, Donna. Trust is very important when you’re out in the woods at night.
Just use your imagination—or you can try to find some matches for the candles I
brought.”
Donna playfully cuffed Sam on the back of the head for being lippy. “You’re in
luck,” she said, fishing around in her bag, “because I always carry a pack of matches with
me for all occasions.”
Sam smiled. “That’s my kind of thinking!” He stepped back from where he’d
been laying things out on the floor and made a courtly bow. “Madame, your dinner
awaits.”
“I still can’t see much,” she mumbled.
“One second.” He took the book of matches from her and lit the candles. Their
muted glow lit up the cabin and Donna’s breath caught in her throat. It was an old
building, but sturdy and Sam had done his best to clear most of the dust away into the far
corner. Hundreds of names were etched into the log walls, some dating back to the early
60’s. There was no furniture, but it was obvious that many people had found this to be a
special place.
“Sam? What is this usually used for?”
He stood up straight once more and stuck his hands into the front pockets of his
jeans. “Well,” he said bashfully, “I heard it’s often for…well…cub scouts.”
“Excuse me?” Donna’s laughter pleasantly rang throughout the room.
“It’s a Boy Scout cabin, okay? But really, none of them would ever come out
here.”
“And just why not?” Donna asked, her fingers tracing over some of the inscribed
names.
“Because it’s November and too cold.”
“But you brought us here?”
“Because I know many ways of keeping warm,” he growled, coming over to
Donna and leaning against the wall, their bodies an inch away from touching. She
ducked out of the way, still smiling, and sat down on the carpet he had made from several
sleeping bags spread out together.
“Maybe we could start with some food,” she said, looking at the feast before her.
“I’m starving.”
What followed was a seduction, pure and simple.
Sam had done wonders for planning something so elaborate in less than twenty-
four hours. He must have stopped at some market, Donna thought, as he held up fresh
grapes for her to eat off the stem. There was decadent red wine from France, baguettes,
extremely fatty cheese that he insisted she eat, fruit, chocolate…chocolate sauce. Donna
grinned to herself when she spotted that certain item. It was a very optimistic sign, all
things considered.
Their fingers were sticky as they fed each other, hardly speaking at all. Donna
knew that candlelight could do wonders for a woman’s looks, but she doubted few had
seriously thought about how good the lighting could be for a man too. She hadn’t seen
Sam so relaxed in…well, really since their first night together, way back on her birthday
all those weeks ago. God, he was hot. She adored the way his dark hair had grown out
from the slight buzz cut he had given it months ago, and the reflection of herself in his
crystal blue eyes was too intoxicating to resist.
He leaned in slowly, angling them slightly so that they wouldn’t suddenly fall into
any leftover food. His breath touched her face and she inhaled his unique scent, hoping
more than anything that she could remember it—and that her senses could remember her
former zealous reaction to his complete maleness.
The first touch of his lips on hers sent her into a tizzy. She had, indeed, forgotten
his exact taste, the way their mouths fit together and how his arms naturally rose up to
hold her close. Then, before she could lose herself in his embrace, Sam moved out of her
grasp, leaving her still caught in the moment.
“Am I missing something here?” she asked in a completely shocked voice.
“Sure,” he replied casually, “we’re missing this.” Sam pulled away an old green
blanket to reveal a stereo complete with CD player. “What’s a moonlit, romantic night
without some music? This is the CD that you first played for us: 80s Power Ballads,” he
added.
The smile on Sam’s face froze Donna to the spot. There was a burning low down
in the pit of her stomach, something that made her want at the same time to run out to her
car and also to throw herself at Sam so that he could never recover. Her decision seemed
made as he ever so gently lowered her to the floor and the music began to echo around
them.
I’ve been lonely, I’ve been waiting for you
I’m pretending and that’s all I can do
The love I’m sending ain’t making it through
To your heart
You’ve been hiding, never letting it show
Always trying to keep it under control
You’ve got it down and you’re well on your way to the top
But there’s something that you forgot
What about love?
Don’t you want someone to care about you?
What about love?
Don’t let it slip it away.
What about love?
I only want to share it with you…
Donna did her best to keep the lyrics from reverberating deep inside her. She
didn’t want the haunting refrain to trigger anything about…never mind. Instead, she
focused on the touches Sam was leaving upon her body as he slowly dragged her shirt out
from the waistband of her jeans.
His mouth tracked every curve and contour of her body. But to Donna, his lips
felt foreign, her mind thinking about the love that Josh had showered on her those rare
moments together, his touch that had ignited something within her that now felt hollow
without him.
Stop it! her mind screamed. Don’t think about that now! Just enjoy!
But it wasn’t working.
The skin Sam left exposed felt clammy and cold. She was shivering and her
muscles began to grow tense. His hands couldn’t warm her body, no matter how she
moved against him.
When his lips reached her face she waited impatiently as he kissed her eyebrows,
eyelids, cheekbones and jaw-line. His tongue felt wet and slimy against her skin, and
then awkward in its attempts to begin a foray between them. Before, when Sam had
made love to her, she couldn’t remember the actual touch of his body on hers, or hers on
him; she had only taken in the euphoria of loving him at that certain moment and her
senses had taken control, moving her past the textures and more physical elements of sex.
Now, she couldn’t lose herself, couldn’t give herself up to his love-making, and so his
body felt uncomfortably heavy, his stubble rough against her skin, his hands groping
rather than sweetly smoothing a path down her body.
It was wrong.
Everything in her cried out against what was happening.
When she felt his mouth kissing its way up her ribcage, ready to divest her of her
bra in seconds, she froze. This time, it wasn’t a happy restriction—and Sam knew it.
He leaned back. “Donna? What’s wrong?”
“I…” She couldn’t speak, couldn’t bear to hurt him. But suddenly she was
overwhelmed by claustrophobia and began to struggle beneath his tender hold.
“Let go of me,” she said, trying to rise up.
“What?” Sam was completely confused.
“I can’t…I can’t do this…I can’t do this anymore.”
“But…”
“I CAN’T” she screamed. As soon as the pressure of his body left hers she bolted
up, grabbed her bag and ran out the door, pulling her shirt down as she went.
“Donna!” Sam called after her. “Donna, wait!”
Following her instincts, she ignored his cries, sprinting to her car and driving out
of the woods at lightning speed.
Tears streamed down her face, knowing how much she had hurt him, but also
knowing just how close—how easily—she had come to making perhaps the biggest
mistake of her life.
As the miles grew between her and the cabin, she began to calm down, but she
still felt driven to make amends. Some way, somehow, he would have to forgive her.
********
There’s a book up on the shelf about the Dust Bowl days
There’s a little bit of you and little bit of me
In the photos on every page
Our children live in the city and they rest upon our shoulders
They don’t want the rain to fall or the weather to get colder
And all this Trouble in our Fields
If this rain can fall these wounds can heal
They’ll never take our native soil.
And if we sell that new John Deere
Then we’ll work these crops with sweat and tears
You’ll be the mule, I’ll be the plough
Come harvest-time we’ll work it out
There’s still a lot of love
Here in these Troubled Fields.
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