Disclaimers: I have no rights to any West Wing or Star Wars "stuff"...I'm just borrowing it for a little while; no harm, no foul.
(c) ballynihinch 2004
He knew he wanted her.
That had never been the problem.
But now, standing outside of her brownstone apartment in the middle of the night, he knew that something had changed. He didn’t know if he had a job to go back to tomorrow…
…and that changed everything.
****
1AM – US CAPITOL BUILDINGS
The adrenaline soared through his body for long moments after he had finished yelling up at the cold white marble building. In the quiet of the night he could hear his heart beating in his ears, pounding out a rushed tarantella. What was unusual was the lack of other sound around him—Washington was never a silent place, but it seemed that Fate had turned off all other noise so that he could throw down his challenge to all the enemies he had ever had.
The Pearce kid stayed back in the cab—when his eyes met Josh’s they were full of confused alarm. What? Hadn’t the guy ever seen a politician having an Oliver Stone moment before? Amateur.
“Where do you live?” Josh asked as the cab pulled away, his steely glare still fixed on the Capitol.
Ryan mentioned a place only a few blocks from Josh’s own Georgetown apartment. “That’s fine,” Josh answered. “We’ll drop you and I can walk from there.” The only response he got was a cautious nodding of the head. Seriously, this kid had to learn how to roll with the punches…or at least ignore things when over-stressed people went a little schizo.
It was only when Josh found himself alone on a dimly lit Georgetown street that he realised just how close to the edge he was feeling. The fuck-fest with Amy was long over, his career was in shambles, his own friends were pissed to high heaven at him for screwing up with Carrick…it was more than enough to send him into a tailspin.
Looking down at his hands, Josh noticed they were trembling—and it wasn’t THAT cold outside. “Shit,” he muttered to himself. “Shit, shit, shit.” He tried to remember back to the last time he had taken his sertraline…he couldn’t pinpoint an exact date. He had slowly been cutting back on the nortriptylene since the previous Christmas, but it looked like that was going to be going back up too. So much for losing the PTSD medication before the new year. Could the powers that be never cut him a break?
More than anything, he just needed to let down with someone. Anyone who wasn’t first concerned with him as a politician…
And, of course, there was only one person who fit that description.
********
1:42AM – GEORGETOWN
He looked up at the window and knew he shouldn’t be there. She was probably asleep—not like that had ever stopped him before.
She was probably exhausted—he was too.
She probably wouldn’t want to let him in—but he needed to be in there so badly; it was like a trembling thirst consuming every thought and breath and pulse of his blood.
She probably would yell—well, he’d already had a good moment of his own that night. It seemed only fair that his other half should be able to exercise her vocal muscles a bit. He just hoped she wouldn’t smack him for going too near the edge.
All he had to do was walk up those stairs and ring the bell—no snowballs this time. Breathing deeply one last time, Josh crossed the street and went up the small flight of stairs, hoping she was already awake.
*******
1:44AM – DONNA MOSS’ APARTMENT
In her dreams she was always the one who went over to HIS place.
He wouldn’t be expecting her—did he ever? She always seemed to catch him unawares, but this time, it certainly would be a surprise that she had in mind for both of them.
She knew the way to his bedroom blindfolded—too many times she had had to chart her way to his side in the dark during their long summer of recovery together. She knew the way his sheets smelled. She knew what the give of his mattress would be as she crawled in beside him.
She knew he liked to sleep naked in the summer, or in silk boxers. That one night—so many years ago, it seemed—when she had stumbled in during one of his PTSD night terrors only to find more than just Josh awaiting her. It had been all of Josh. If she had paused for only the briefest of moments to ogle him, the Sisterhood couldn’t really hold it against her. The man was just too damn hot to pass over mildly. Still, when she felt at her lowest mentally and emotionally, her guilt over seeing Josh that night, naked, frightened, needing her, unable to say it, unable to even admit that he was in hell…
Well, let’s just say that her mind was the master of guilt complexes.
In the fall and winter, or when he knew that there was a chance of Donna appearing before 5AM, he wore CJ’s pyjamas. How many times had she washed them, folded them, lifted them to her face to breathe in that incomparable scent that was just…just…Josh?
In so many ways, it was a lifetime ago.
Ever since that night, nearly three years ago, when she had told him the truth about the kitty litter and the car accident, she had waited for the night when he would show up at her door—sober—and say that he would do more than run through red lights for her.
It had never happened.
Never.
And so, when she heard the buzzer ringing throughout her lonely townhouse, she knew that this night would be no different from any of the others they had shared together. On her way to the buzzer panel, she flipped on CNN and pinched her alabaster cheeks to get some life flowing through her veins.
“Yes?”
“Donna, it’s me. Let me up.”
“Josh? Are you okay?”
“Can you just buzz me in?”
She sighed and then pressed TALK once more. “All right.” During the time it took him to climb the three flights of stairs to her apartment, she tamped down any lingering fantasies. He was a new Josh, and she was a new Donna. She wasn’t some pathetic, uneducated creature anymore that he could take pity on—if she had ever been that.
And she’d be damned first before letting him use her again to assuage his oversized political ego.
She took a deep breath, and got ready to open the door for Drunk-Josh lectures about gomers and dating republicans, that always ended with her boss falling asleep in her apartment…on the couch.
********
“You did what?”
He avoided her wide-open gaze somewhat sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders ineffectively. “I yelled at the Capitol Buildings.”
“In front of Ryan?”
“You say that as though it’s something unheard of. I was having my own personal variation on ‘Mr Smith Goes to Washington’.”
Donna shook her head and went into the kitchen to make coffee. Josh didn’t seem drunk in the slightest—which unnerved more than she cared to admit—but it did look like it was going to be a long night for both of them.
“Josh?” she called out, waiting for him to follow her into the lit room. “Aren’t you worried that…well…that you might be taking Carrick’s mutiny a bit too personally? I mean, he was a Democrat from Idaho.”
He leaned up against the fridge and plunged his hands deeply into his pockets. “Does it really matter?”
She looked at him, pausing before putting the filter into the coffee machine. “I suppose not.”
They were silent while the coffee brewed. When the pot was nearly full, Josh breached the tiny distance between the counters and reached past Donna to grab his favourite mug. For a brief moment he could smell the sweet tang of her perfume, the floral subtleties of her shampoo; a need to envelope her in his arms and smell her skin for the rest of the night nearly overwhelmed him, but he settled for gently brushing her thigh with his leg before retreating into the living room.
Donna stood in the kitchen, alone, for an extra minute, desperately trying to find her bearings. She had sent Josh packing the night before after Amy had walked out of the West Wing—it just wasn’t a good night for her to sit and listen to him rehash yet another disastrous relationship with yet another power-dater.
But what the hell had just happened?
Get a grip girl, she reminded herself silently. It was an innocent touch, nothing else to it.
She just hoped the flutterings in her chest would let her believe such a cock and bull story.
********
DONNA’S – 2:26AM
For rather obvious reasons, Josh didn’t want to watch CNN. Donna felt fairly confident that there had been no cameras around when he’d had his moment of rage at the traffic light, but she was nonetheless more than happy to settle on watching a movie until dawn.
They ended up picking “The Empire Strikes Back”—Josh was wanting to distract himself from real life by watching space opera, and Donna could never say no to Han Solo’s butt circa 1980.
When the John Williams soundtrack first blared through her apartment, they were on opposite ends of the love seat. Donna curled her legs underneath her and her sock-covered toes lightly brushed against Josh’s leg. She thought he moved away at first, but by the time Luke had been attacked by the snow beast, his leg was firmly pressing back against the bottom of her feet.
** “Han!”
“Yes, Your Highness-ness.”
“I thought you had decided to stay.”
“Yes, well, the bounty hunter we ran into on Ord Mandell changed my mind.”
“We need you.”
“We need?”
“Yes.”
“What about YOU need?”
“I need? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You probably don’t.”
“And how precisely am I supposed to know?”**
Josh sighed and reached down unconsciously to begin rubbing Donna’s feet. She still had her socks on, so she didn’t think it anything unusual.
“I’m thinking about leaving.”
“WHAT?” she screeched. Before another word could be spoken, she grabbed the remote and pressed pause, leaving Han and Leia stuck in an icy hallway on Hoth.
“I dunno. It just feels like it would be best for everyone back at the office if I just disappeared for a while.”
She shook her head and began to put her hair behind her ears repeatedly. “Why are you saying stuff like that?”
“Did you see the faces at my party yesterday? I’ve never seen anything fall so fast before…not even me on newly-waxed floors.”
“What?” she asked quizzically.
“Nevermind.”
She crossed her arms in front of her chest – Josh couldn’t help staring for a few seconds at the new angle of her breasts beneath her old tank top. He wanted to make her react to him…in that kind of a way—in the total non “boss/assistant” manner.
He was a shit. He was a jerk. But God, how he wanted her right then, seeing her face so full of concern. He clenched his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out and tracing the silky soft skin of her cheek.
“Let’s just…” he began, “just put the movie back on.”
Donna stared at him for another few seconds and then slowly turned back to the tv screen, pushing play on the remote. He reached for her feet again once she was settled.
This time he drew them up into his lap, still pressing against the worn cotton of her socks.
** “Come on! You want me to stay because of the way you feel about me.”
“Yes, you’re a natural leader, you’re—”
“That’s not it. Come on. Ah? Come on.”
“You’re imagining things.”
“Am I? Then why are you following me? Afraid I was going to leave without giving you a good-bye kiss?”
“I’d just as soon kiss a wookie.”
“I can arrange that! You could use a good kiss!”**
“That line must have rung true for you,” Josh said. Only after the words were out of his mouth did he realise he had screwed up. Her feet muscles tightened under his grip.
“And what precisely is that supposed to mean?”
“Come on. You’ve kissed lots of Republicans before. Same thing as kissing a wookie.”
Donna glared at him for exactly two seconds before kicking him in the gut…hard.
“Oof!”
“Just be lucky I aimed high rather than low.”
“Geez…you’re awfully touchy tonight,” he muttered, grimacing from the bruised muscles in his stomach.
“You’re a jackass.”
Her feet still were in his lap, though he now remembered that they were also weapons. Still, he was on a roll, so why stop now?
“Don’t you mean a nerf-herder?”
He could see in her eyes that she was trying not to smile at his lame movie quote. The mischief lowered into a sly smile toying about her lips. It made him want to kiss her.
“Just watch the movie,” she whispered.
But when he grabbed her feet once more, they were relaxed and eager for his massaging touch.
********
DONNA’S – 3:17AM
Somewhere in between the Battle For Hoth and Luke’s crash landing into Dagobah, Donna had slinked down into the love seat, so that her calves now rested against Josh’s thigh and her feet stretched out over the end of the armrest.
By the time the Millennium Falcon had entered the asteroid field, her socks were off and Josh was working on easing every tense muscle below her knees.
It felt amazing.
When Donna realised she had barely stifled a moan of pleasure, she thought it long past time to pay attention to the film…again…
** “Hey! Your Worship! I’m only trying to help!”
“Would you please stop calling me that?”
“Sure…Leia…”
“You make it so difficult sometimes.”
“I do, I really do. You could be a little nicer, though. Come on, sometimes you think I’m all right.”
“Sometimes, occasionally…when you aren’t acting like a scoundrel.”**
Donna kicked Josh again, lightly this time. “That’s what you are,” she whispered, keeping her voice lower than those on the screen.
“What?”
She smiled. “A scoundrel.”
“Scoundrel? Scoundrel?” His voice now matched the dialogue exactly—only neither of them was looking at the television. His hands grasped her feet more strongly, pressing into her arch with the base of his palm. “I like the sound of that.”
“Stop that,” she insisted.
“Stop what?”
“My feet smell.”
He shrugged off her protestations. “I don’t care. Why, are you afraid?”
“Afraid?” she scoffed.
He smiled, so that his dimples grooved slightly into his cheeks.
Her heart raced.
“You’re shivering,” he noticed.
“I’m not cold.”
As if in response, his eyes slid down from her face to look at her breasts. They both knew at the same instant what he would see there.
“I think you like me because I’m a scoundrel. There aren’t enough men like me in your life.”
By this point Josh had swung her legs over slightly so that he could lean down into the love seat next to her. It was an odd angle, but hey, he was on a roll.
“I happen to like nice men,” she retorted.
He snickered. “Republicans. No way.” Bringing one hand down to rest near her face, he left his other arm drift up so that he could feel the heat emanating from her warm body. Her eyes mesmerised him with their blue depths and he found himself toying with a piece of her white-blond hair.
“Nothing better has ever come along.”
“Spoken too soon,” he whispered.
“Well, you’re not a nice man.” Her breath smelled sweet on his face and he let his arm rest on her torso, needing a connection before this last step.
“No, I’m not,” he agreed. “I’m a scoundrel.”
Donna bit her lip in anticipation. When her tongue darted out to wet her lips, he followed the path along her mouth with a lone finger.
“Yes, you are.” She briefly kissed at the pad of his fingertip before bringing her hands up to tangle in his wild hair.
His mouth met hers and they both moaned.
When C-3PO interrupted Han and Leia on-screen, Josh and Donna were already a million miles away.
********
DONNA’S – 3:57AM
Donna didn’t think she could remember such a good mackage session before in her life. She knew it had to be good when the only words to describe kissing Josh involved terminology from her cousin up in the Ottawa Valley. Mackage indeed.
His kiss had started off fairly gentle in nature, taking time to sip at her lips and discover every nuance of the contours of her mouth.
She had thought that kissing Josh would be an almost brutal, animalistic affair—and that possibility still lay before her, but his infinite care and absolute thoroughness made her crave him like nothing else ever before. His hand came up to gently brush along the side of her face, framing her for his plunging, euphoric embrace.
And she responded in kind, curving her body to form along his, pressing up against him even as she sunk back into the cushions. Her hands tangled in his hair, holding him to her, discovering his taste and texture and tantalising talent to turn her on.
** “Wait, here’s something. Lando…”
“The Lando system?”
“No, Lando’s not a system, he’s a man. Lando Calrissian. He’s a gambler, scoundrel…you’d like him.”
“Thanks.”**
“So,” Josh gasped, trying to draw enough breath into his lungs to kiss Donna without stopping for another twenty minutes. “Do you like scoundrels?”
“I like you,” she giggled before tonguing his earlobe. His body stiffened at her sultry touch. “So I guess I would like Lando.”
He looked down at her and growled, “Don’t you even think about anyone else ever again.”
“Ever?” Her eyes sparkled.
“You heard me.”
“How interesting.” She grabbed both of his ears to hold him immobile for an exacting kiss.
When he momentarily broke away, the dimples were back. “It’s so cool that you love this movie just as much as I do.”
“What can I say?” she shrugged in an exaggerated manner. “I’m perfect.”
“Cute.”
He sunk down on top of her once more and the chatter stopped, replaced by something even finer.
DONNA’S – 4:08AM
As the teenage make-out fest continued, Donna grew worried. Even as she snaked a hand down under Josh’s perfectly clinging jeans to squeeze the rounded muscle of his ass, she grew anxious.
She knew what scene was coming up in the movie. After Josh had started murmuring lines of Cloud City dialogue to her as he passionately pinned her down on the love seat, her mind had skipped ahead to that moment—that dreadful, disastrous, fabulous moment.
And what would he expect her to say then?
She knew it was about to happen in the next few minutes, and her mind raced to come up with an answer—
Then, when Josh leaned back to peel off his shirt, she stopped thinking of anything else…for the time being, at least.
** “What’s going on, buddy?”
“You’re being put into carbon-freeze.”**
Darth Vader’s raspy breathing caused Donna to look over at the screen, while Josh planted searing kisses along the length of her collarbone.
** “What if he doesn’t survive? He’s worth a lot to me.”
“The Empire will compensate you if he dies. Put him in.”**
Chewbacca’s loud roaring finally pierced Josh’s lust-ridden brain. He sat up, pulling Donna into his lap, her head against his bare chest, and watched with fascinated eyes.
“Cool. It’s my favourite scene.”
“Mine too,” Donna whispered.
** “No! No, no, no, no! Stop!”
“Stop! Stop! Chewie, listen to me! Stop!”
“Yes, stop please! I’m not ready to die!”
“Hey! Hey! Listen to me. Chewie, Chewie, this won’t help me. Hey! Save your strength. There’ll be another time. The Princess—you have to take care of her, you hear me? Huh?”**
Donna tightened her arms around Josh’s bare skin as Han and Leia gazed at each other for the last time. Josh pressed kisses against her temple as light as a butterfly’s wings.
When the on-screen lovers clung together in a desperate final embrace, Josh brought his knuckle up beneath Donna’s chin and turned her face up towards him. This kiss was by far their most passionate of the night, full of promise and sweetness and tinged with shadows of regret. When he pulled away, Donna instinctively followed his retreating lips.
Then, holding her soft blue eyes with his own passion-filled gaze, he stroked her cheek as the film’s bittersweet soundtrack filled the tiny room.
“I love you,” he said, looking deeply into her eyes.
The words came before she could think about them.
“I know.”
The music swelled into an aching crescendo as the pair gazed at each other, not moving, not even breathing, saying everything without words or actions.
When the tears slowly rolled down Donna’s cheeks, Josh’s strong warm fingers were there to wipe them away, and pull her roughly against him. His arms held her tightly to his side and she didn’t care that the sudden movement had rucked up one side of her t-shirt, pressing their naked torsos together.
For that endless moment, they were one in more ways than they had ever thought possible when the day began, so many hours before.
DONNA’S – 4:32AM
The movie was nearly finished, but their night had just began.
Donna sat straddling Josh’s lap, planting heated open-mouth kisses against the column of his neck. His fingers were curled around the back of her tank top, ready to rip the material if she didn’t take it off soon. Every so often, he rocked his groin up to meet the junction between her thighs, desperate for some kind of carnal contact—all it ended up doing was to make his erection harder and more tightly confined beneath his pants.
By the time Luke had his new hand and was flexing it around Leia’s shoulder as they watched the Falcon swoop out into space, Josh knew he was reaching the breaking point.
“I hate to break up this most joyous clambake,” he whispered, “but your tape is about to run out.” Donna’s only reaction was to moan something inaudible while she nipped at the tender skin along his shoulder.
“Do you wanna turn this off and maybe relocate somewhere a bit more comfortable?” he asked. He punctuated his question by finally tugging the tank top up and over her head.
Donna sat back, suddenly feeling very vulnerable and exposed. A thousand different emotions were swirling about inside of her, but just at that moment, the strongest one was fear. Hundreds of ‘what if’ scenarios suddenly popped into her imagination; each one ended with Josh leaving her alone in the bedroom, curled into a tight ball of shivers and tears.
She trembled as though someone had just walked over her grave and brought her hands up to cover the tips of her bare breasts. It was just the moment for a well-timed joke to cure the sudden case of nerves that had attacked her. “Are you saying you don’t like my furniture?”
“Of course not. I just thought—am I rushing things here?” he asked, suddenly concerned. His face scrunched up, confused. “I thought we were on the same page.”
“We are! I’m just…I don’t…I’m a bit…”
Josh must have seen something in her face that he didn’t like, because he immediately shut down. His eyes grew cold in the space of second and he dropped his arms from where they had lazily been tracing the small of her back.
“OK Sure,” he muttered. Then he got up, letting Donna slip off his lap onto the couch, and began to search for his shirt.
“No!” she countered. “I didn’t…don’t be like this. Please. Josh, look at me.” She jumped up from the love seat to grab his hand as he bent over the coffee table to grab his shoes. “Look at me! I’m only hesitating because I don’t want to wake up and have you look at me like I’m some stranger.”
He pulled away from her as if she was a deadly cobra. “You honestly think I would be like that?”
“Can you honestly promise me you wouldn’t freak out in the slightest if we moved this into the bedroom?”
“I had no idea you thought so little of me,” he snorted. It was a flippant comment, but it did a shabby job of hiding the real pain that was coursing through his body.
“Little? Little?” Now it was her turn to get angry. “What are you talking about? How could you ever say such a thing—after everything that’s happened?”
“Everything? You nearly said flat out that tonight meant nothing to you,” he snapped, gesturing wildly.
“Nothing? I’m scared, Josh. Scared. This is a big deal for me…” She paused, searching his face. “But, I can’t talk to you at all when you’re like this.”
“Well you sure could talk fast enough when you weren’t ‘scared’ of sleeping with Cliff Calley, or who knows how many other scummy republicans just looking for an easy lay! If you’re scared with me, why don’t you go ‘talk’ it out with him? That’s always worked in the past.”
“Screw you.” She drew her arms up to cover herself, hating that she was half-naked during all of this. “Or,” she thought, “better yet, go screw Amy. You seem to have had plenty of practice doing that lately!”
“Jealous?”
“You wish!” she spat.
Suddenly they both stopped and stared at each other. The coldness in Josh’s face vanished as he truly saw Donna for the first time in many minutes; she looked so small and fragile standing there, her arms crossed over her breasts and her shoulders more or less turned to him. And yet she could give as good as she got.
“What are we doing?” he asked softly. He moved closer to where she stood between the couch and the wall. “Donna? I didn’t mean that stuff. Well—maybe I meant the stuff about Calley, but that’s only because the thought of you with him drives me absolutely up the wall. But I didn’t mean to yell like that—maybe I meant to yell sometime, but not like that—not now.” Summoning up his deepest courage, he reached out and touched the soft skin of her shoulder blade.
The touch changed everything.
Donna turned to him and, when she saw the look in his eyes, her arms fell down to her sides; she no longer needed to protect herself from his gaze.
“Josh.”
He opened his mouth to start spouting more, but she silenced him with a lone finger pressed across his lips. “Sssshhh. Just…just hold me.”
He opened his arms and she fell into them as though his touch could make her whole.
DONNA’S APARTMENT – 4:49AM
In the end, they decided to compromise and put on ‘Return of the Jedi’—that way, Josh could still hold a semi-naked Donna in his arms and do things to her that made her feel wild and wanted, and Donna could take things just as quickly or as slowly as she needed.
“I always thought the beginning to ‘Jedi’ was a bit slow,” Josh whined softly as Donna curiously traced the pattern of his chest hair.
“Are you really paying attention to the movie?”
“Kinda.”
“Well, I never minded it. Besides, the best part is coming up soon.”
“And what would that be?”
She nipped at his lips and then smiled impishly. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Groaning dramatically, Josh fell sideways on the love seat, taking Donna with him so that he lay on top of her. “Why do I have a feeling that you’re not going to say Princess Leia in the iron bikini?”
Smacking his bottom, Donna rolled her eyes. “How very observant of you.”
“Ah, well. You’ll just have to point it out to me when the time comes.”
“Mmmm…” Any other type of response became rather difficult once Josh leant down and began to smother her in long, fiery kisses. How had she ever lived for so many years without kissing Josh Lyman? It was an experience that all women should have—and one that she was fairly certain she’d keep to herself from now on.
Ever so slowly, Josh broke their kiss many minutes later and eased his way down her body, taking time to taste the tender slope of her neck, the tiny divot at the base of her throat, the long, fragile lines of her collarbone. She tensed in anticipation of where his mouth was heading; when his lips finally clasped around the taut crown of her left breast, she made a sound that could best be described as a meow.
Even though it was killing him not to tear off his pants and plunder her carnal treasure, he somehow was able to restrain himself. Maybe, if he just gave her enough time and space, she would be the one to rip off his pants. And what a fine day that would be.
Donna bit her lip, not wanting to wake up her neighbours as Josh continued to pleasure her in an extremely intimate way. Suddenly, she felt an overwhelming desire to make him squeak. Snaking her hand between them, she reached past the flimsy band of his trousers and the elastic confines of his boxer shorts to grasp his searing-hot arousal in her hand.
She got more than she bargained for as Josh yelped in pleasurable surprise and accidentally toppled them down onto the floor.
“Shit! Are you okay?”
Nodding, Donna began to laugh. “We are such klutzes.”
“No kidding.” He paused, looking at her flushed skin and bright eyes for long moments. “Now,” he growled in a sexy voice, “where was I?”
Squealing in delight, Donna tried to get away, but Josh tackled her and pinned her to the carpet, rubbing his early morning stubble against her sensitive skin. He spent quite a while tasting the places below her ribcage and around her navel. It was as though one sample of her tangy essence could never be enough.
Lolling her head to one side, Donna briefly watched the television screen with eyes glazed-over from pleasure. The bounty hunter, Booush, had just entered Jabba’s palace late at night.
“Oh,” she sighed, “here it comes.”
Josh looked up, momentarily puzzled, and then followed her gaze to the unfolding movie scene. He waited before resuming his perusal of her bellybutton, his eyes focusing on the dark screen.
Booush approached the far wall where Han Solo’s carbonite figure hung in eternal suspension. Something clicked in Josh’s brain as he looked at the pain etched on Han’s frozen face.
“That’s what it feels like, sometimes,” he muttered, as he rested his cheek against Donna’s bare hip.
“What what feels like?”
“Being me. Sometimes I feel frozen like that too.”
“Really?” She held his face and tipped up his chin so that his eyes locked with hers. “Really?” she repeated lowly.
“Just…just stuck. Pained. Unable to move past whatever is bothering me, even though every muscle in me is straining to do just that.” He took a deep breath and then sighed. “And alone. Always alone—separated—somehow in a world apart from everyone else no matter how much I might love them. Need them. Want them.” His eyes at that moment could have burned deep holes in her face—they burned with so much truth. Then he blinked, and the spell was broken.
“Ah, just ignore me,” he laughed mirthlessly. “I’m getting all maudlin about my own shit in my old age.”
“You’re not old,” she chided gently. “And you’re not alone.”
“Why? How do you know?”
“Because I’m—I just—I’m always…” She stopped, at a loss for words. Rather than sputter, she turned her head and pretended to watch the movie.
** “Just relax for a moment. You’re free of the carbonite. You have hibernation sickness.”
“I can’t see.”
“Your eyesight will return in time.”
“Where am I?”
“Jabba’s palace.”
“Who are you?”
“Someone who loves you.”
“Leia!”**
Josh waited until Han and Leia were locked in a tight embrace before nudging Donna. He was not about to drop the subject.
“Who are you, Donna? Why do you always make me feel better, even when I’m walking the streets of hell? Who are you?”
“I’m—” The breath caught in her throat as she saw what he wanted; at that instant, she knew it was also exactly what she wanted to give him.
“Who are you?” he asked a final time; his voice was so soft she could barely hear it.
Her eyes were bright as she answered: “Someone who loves you.”
“You do love me?”
“What do you think?”
“I want to hear you say it again. You love me, don’t you—don’t you?”
Smiling at last, she ruffled his hair and playfully rolled her eyes. “Who on earth would I ever love more than you?”
Josh jumped up onto his feet and began crowing about the room like a schoolboy. “Donna Moss loves me! Donna loves me! You love me!”
Laughing, but unsure of what was happening, Donna ran and grabbed him by the arms to smother just a tad of his sudden exuberance. “Josh, stop it! I love you! There’s no need to wake up Mrs Phelps upstairs!”
“Screw Mrs Phelps! She should hear this!”
“I think she already has by now,” Donna muttered to herself.
“Don’t you see that this makes all the difference?” Josh cried, spinning her around in his arms. “Because I’m in love with you—horribly. Have been for years.”
“I answered that earlier tonight—I know. You’re not exactly subtle, Josh—just confusing.”
“Confusing?” A sexy glint suddenly appeared in his eye. “Is that a challenge?”
“What?”
“Just you wait, Miss Moss. I’m about to make sure you’re never confused about me again.” With that, he picked her up and gently let her slip down the length of his body to the floor. With one swift move on his part, he suddenly held her cut-off sweat pants that she always slept in at this time of year, leaving her naked as a jay on the carpet before him.
His eyes never left her face as he grabbed her slim legs and began to kiss every inch of skin from toes to tummy. Donna relaxed once he slipped past her knees and began to spread her slightly. Then his mouth was on the sensitive stretch of her inner thigh and she almost started giggling—the soft whispers of his tongue were tantalising and ticklish at the same time.
Then his mouth was worshipping the core of her being and she lost track of time, space and all things in between. This was Josh loving her—her Josh—finally where he always belonged. Her screams echoed off the walls; if Mrs Phelps was listening, she certainly got an earful.
When the world had stopped spinning, Josh lay his head against the curve of her hip and watched with loving eyes how a tender blush had suffused the entire length of her body and was now gently receding.
Donna stroked his hair with one hand. “Now,” she whispered. “Now, I’m not afraid.”
“Thank God,” he muttered, “cause this floor is murder on my knees.”
“But they’re such nice knees.”
“Cute.” He stood up—a little slowly to avoid any major creaking—and pulled Donna up with him. He was about to pick her up when she pulled back slightly, shaking her head.
“You’re not ready yet,” she whispered in a sultry breath. Before he knew what had happened, she had eased both his trousers and boxers around his prominent erection and down to the floor, so that they were both completely naked.
“Good thinking,” he nodded. “I suck with zippers under pressure.”
“I’ll make a note of that,” she giggled. The soft laughter turned into a yelp when he swooped her up into his arms and carried her off to the bedroom.
The video kept playing in the background until, after two bouts of intense, exhaustive love-making, Josh had to come out and turn off the sounds of the ewoks frolicking.
Sometimes, too much ‘Star Wars’ was a bad thing.
FIN
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