Notes: Lines used from poem "To You Simply" by W.H. Auden. The basic idea of this story was inspired by Leanne, who said to me, "Wouldn't it be so wonderful if Sam left Josh a love sonnet on his board?" This isn't exactly what you meant, but thank you for the idea and for reading this rather sad first attempt at writing TWW through for me.
Josh walked the hallway to his office for once not bombarded with questions and banter from Donna, since she had left early that night. Well, not exactly early, as she had went home on time and Josh was just working late again, for the fourth night in a row, even though he could think of one glorious place in particular he would rather be.
But there are things to be done, he told himself sternly, as he settled into his chair. Reports to read, memos to write, and budget meetings to prepare for, all stacked in blue folders on his desk by Donna.
It took him ten minutes and an entire memo on the minimum wage before he noticed. Anyone else's eyes might have glanced over it, but Josh was attuned to the smallest change in his office. Written neatly in the top left corner of the chalkboard on the wall were six lines in verse. Smiling at the familiar cursive handwriting, he read aloud a second time:
Fate is not late,
Nor the speech rewritten,
Nor one word forgotten,
Said at the start
About heart,
By heart, for heart.
The message wasn't signed, but Josh knew who it was from.
&
"I thought when you wrote something, you signed your name," Josh teased as he entered Sam's office.
Sam looked up from his own paperwork and grinned at the sight of Josh leaning on the doorframe. "I didn't think you would have a problem figuring it out. Who else could be leaving you poetry?"
After a beat, Josh responded, "Donna could."
"Oh, please," Sam said. If he wasn't such a man, Josh told himself, he would be offended at the way Sam snorted just then.
Josh walked around Sam's desk and sat on the edge. Instinct compelled him to look around the bullpen, but, as it had been just a minute ago when he went through, it was empty. "Ginger could."
"Oh, so now all the assistants are in love with you?" Sam replied, reaching across Josh's lap to grab a highlighter.
Josh opened his mouth to form a clever retort and then snapped it shut again.
Love. This was the first time Sam had defined this thing between them, these after work meetings and late night rendezvous, that way. Sam had said it in jest, but Josh could tell by the deliberate way he kept staring at his blank computer screen that he realized now the implications of his joke. It had never been said before, that word, and suddenly, the fact that he wanted to nuzzle Sam's neck even at this moment made so much more sense when he defined it that way.
Softly, Josh said, "No. Just you."
Sam finally looked back at Josh and smiled nervously. Indicating the papers Josh was almost sitting on, he quickly informed him, "I'm done here. Are you still working?"
Josh thought of the piles on his desk and the amount of work he would have to do tomorrow morning if he didn't do it now. "No."
&
That night, watching Sam sleep in his customary way with his arms folded across his chest, it occurred to Josh that it might not have been a slip of the tongue after all. Sam was always precise about his words.