One Week
By: The Writer
Rating: PG
Category: Humor/Angst (there are moments of Romance); Josh/Donna, Donna/Cliff
Spoilers: Yes. This takes place in season three, after my other story "Things About Him"…but you don't have to have read it to read this. (The references to "Things" are pretty vague.) This fic can also stand alone.
Note: This fic is told from Josh's POV. I've written for Josh two other times, so I think I should have his character down fairly well. Also, this is a semi-song fic. The song is "One Week" by BNL, which doesn't belong to me. Lines from this song are woven throughout this story.
Part 1: Cold Coffee and Angry Women
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This has been the longest week of my life. Don't get me wrong, when you work at the White House there is no such thing as a short week, but this one was exceptionally long. And it's not just the reelection campaign… This week was—errm—complicated. It'll still be two days 'til we say we're sorry.
Where should I start? Well, as I said, it all started one week ago. It was a Wednesday. I hate Wednesdays. By Wednesday 1) I'm already too sleep deprived to function without large quantities of caffeine. 2) My desk is coated in six to eight layers of papers and 3) all the last minute meetings that couldn't fit into Monday and Tuesday have made my Wednesday schedule so tight that my coffee ends up cold—which, I believe, inhibits the caffeine's ability to help my brain. Not to mention the fact that two days still have to be survived before the weekend is reached.
Anyway, the Wednesday of last week started off slower than usual. Now, when I say things started slow I don't mean that everybody in the West Wing was walking around like dying Energizer rabbits. As I walked briskly past the bullpen things sounded normal. Phones rang, interns violently clicked their mice—or maybe it's mouses, I'll have to ask my assistant when we're on better speaking terms—and warm papers were snatched out of copy machines.
When I say things started out slow, I mean that something was a little off about Donna. As I flipped on the light in my office and hung up my coat I realized that she hadn't even gotten up from her desk to banter with me. I tried to pretend this didn't bother me and sat down in my chair, positive that Donna would realize I was here and breeze into my office to tell me I was about to be late for my first meeting.
I gazed at the clock in the corner of my computer—which is surprisingly more accurate than the watch I wear—as the time slowly flickered by.
7:18:23 AM. No Donna.
I tugged at my tie and waited.
7:22:05 AM. No Donna.
I sighed and impatiently tapped my foot
7:28:58 AM. No Donna.
I used all of my willpower to restrain myself from leaping out of my chair and marching out to her desk.
7:31:21 AM. Still no Donna.
At this precise moment I knew Leo was looking at his watching and getting ready to bellow for Margaret to get me on the phone.
7:32:03 AM. Perhaps Donna fell of the face of the earth, I thought.
In about 30 seconds my phone would be ringing.
7:32:33 AM.
My phone began to ring at the same exact moment Donna scuttled into my office. She tossed my schedule onto my desk, instead of reading it, like she usually does. She crossed her arms, sighed, and asked impatiently, "Aren't you going to answer that?"
"It's Margaret, telling me I'm late for a meeting with the senior staff."
Donna glared at me. If you've never had this woman glare at you let me say, it's not a look to be taken lightly. Though, I must also say, I was slightly offended to be the recipient of such a glare when I wasn't even sure why it was being directed at me. "Josh, if you know you have a meeting, why aren't you there?"
I glanced down at the schedule she had flung onto my desk. It was written in her illegible handwriting instead of typed, like I prefer. I spoke matter-of-factly, "Something's wrong."
"What?"
"Something's off today…for one thing, you're late."
Donna looked at me, cocked her head to the side and said, "I'm angry."
I, though not a biggie on compassion, was going to take a swing at it. "Um…why?"
My assistant rolled her eyes. "Josh, I was on time…I was just still at my desk, okay? You better get going before Leo comes over here."
I, Josh Lyman, am never sidetracked. At least, never when I'm sober. "Was it Rocky? Did you realize that, thought he's a republican and a lawyer, The Rock isn't perfect?"
I earned myself another glare. "Cliff, Josh, his name is Cliff. And yes…it was Cliff, okay? He had to cancel our third date…again."
The jerk. The fool. Couldn't this idiot see Donna is much too precious a woman to disappoint? Work shouldn't take precedence over her. Hell, Cliffy should've been bringing her flowers and love poetry instead of calling off their date.
Hey! Don't look at me like that. You're saying I'm the idiot? I'm a Fulbright scholar! Lay off, okay? You haven't even heard half of my story.
My phone suddenly stopped ringing and I glanced down at it. I knew I had three minutes and fifty-nine seconds—the approximate time it takes to get to my office—before Leo would be yelling in my ear.
I suppressed the things I wanted to tell her about her boyfriend and instead asked a fairly logical question, "What were you going to do?"
Donna raised an eyebrow, surprised by my inquiry. "On Friday night we were going to hang out at my place…order Chinese…watch television…"
Sure
all they were going to do was watch T.V. I know it's only their third date…but come on people. I decided to play along; "I can do that."Donna's eyebrows rose another three inches. She gasped, "What?"
This might've been a breach of boss/assistant protocol…but what the hell? "We could do that. You know, hang out, eat Chinese…"
My voice trailed off. She looked at me, threw her arms in the air and said, "You're crazy."
To a man who walks with a swagger…that hurt. Not that I'd e-mail my mother to tell her my twenty-seven-year-old assistant insulted me—but my pride was bruised, nonetheless. I thought offering to hang out was polite gesture—albeit, I did have some ulterior motives.
I feel like a fourteen-year-old at his first dance saying this…but I have discovered I have a tad of a crush on Donna. I mean, she's young, sharp-witted, smart, and attractive. Don't misunderstand what I'm saying…I do know I'm quite a bit older than she is and she would never look at me as a romantic prospect.
I don't look at her and picture a one-night fling or a torrid affair that would have the bullpen buzzing. It's hard to explain what I see when I look at Donnatella Moss…an intangible prize, I guess. I know you may not realize I, Josh Lyman, would imagine anything is beyond my grasp…but I like to cushion my heart with reality.
My bruised pride must have registered on my face, because she looked at me, dropped her arms to her sides and said, "I'm sorry."
I opened my mouth to tell her to forget it, but Donna cut me off; "We could do that."
Let me tell you, that took me a bit by surprise. I repeated numbly, "We could do that?"
Donna gave me an uncertain smile. "Yeah, Josh. We could do that. We could hang out, eat Chinese, and watch T.V."
I wasn't sure if she was trying to convince herself or me that it was a good idea. I flashed a half-smile. "Yeah. We'll do that Friday. I'll come over around seven."
Donna nodded, still a little hesitant. She rubbed her forehead with her hand, as if trying to make sure her brain was working when she agreed to hang out with me. "Okay…"
I stood up and walked around my desk so I could see out of the doorway; I wondered how close Leo, or whomever he sent to retrieve me was getting. Donna took two steps backwards, as if coming in contact with me would give her the plague. My assistant winced as she backed into the doorframe, which, I must admit, can be quite a vicious piece of pointed wood.
My hand instinctively brushed her shoulder. "Are you okay?"
Donna blinked at my hand and then looked up at me. She observed our close proximity, blanched, and slid out through the doorway. "I'm fine, Josh. Perfectly fine."
Friday night is sure going to be interesting, I thought.
Just then I heard a familiar voice coming from the bullpen; "Joshua! Joshua Lyman! Where the hell are you?"
I reeled around, hoping to escape through the other door in my office, but she had spotted me. I couldn't move. Her eyes shone with an anger-induced craze. I knew she wouldn't be satisfied until she gave me a good ego bashing. "Your ass was supposed to be in Leo's office ten minutes ago, thank you very much! But, because you lack the ability to ever be punctual, I was sent to fetch you like a damn golden retriever!"
I stammered, "I was coming, but I-I—
"Had to calm Donna."
Why do the gods of the Sisterhood bless C.J. with this type of intuition and give me nil? Wait—don't answer that. "She was angry."
C.J. continued to glare.
"You're angry."
C.J. continued to glare. "You're a little slow on the uptake, Josh."
I pulled at my collar. "Now she's not."
C.J. continued to glare. "Well, whoop-ti-doo."
I ventured, "Your coffee has been cold, hasn't it?"
She grabbed me roughly by the tie and began dragging me in the direction of Leo's office. "My coffee was going to be warm, Josh, but someone—
I coughed as the Windsor knot on my tie began to tighten around my throat. "Okay, okay. I'll make it up to you."
C.J. smirked triumphantly. "Hell right you will."
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End of Part One
When I receive responses on this part, I will continue the story! Part two is titled "
Don't Mulder with my Chinese Chicken".