Title: Coffee
Author: PixieDot (That's Me!)
Summary: Sam has some late night musings with help from Donna and coffee.
Rating: PG, because I don't like the rating G and PG sounded like a good rating.
Disclaimer: I don't own "The West Wing" or any characters from it. (Duh!) Spoilers: If you don't watch "The West Wing" then don't read this fanfic!
Comments or Questions: Put 'em in your review with your e-mail.
Coffee. It's an interesting liquid. There's just something about that dark caffeine-high liquid full of cream and sugar. It can be the difference between staying awake and crashing head first into a sleep-deprived coma. Doctors, Police, Paramedics, Security Guards and just about anybody who has to work 18 hour days or is expected to last through the night shift rely on this substance to at least make them half-awake.
I suppose that has to be the reason why, at three o'clock in the morning, I'm sitting at my desk just staring into my cold cup of French-vanilla roast. Now the fact that I'm sitting here at 3 am is in itself not unusual. When you work at the White House, you tend to lose all sleep any remnants of a social life. I have managed to see the sunrise a total of 139 times this year- and that's not because I wake up early.
The unusual thing about this scene is the blatant fact that I have no work spread out in front of me. I'm not typing furiously at my laptop trying to churn out a speech or any political working. In fact, I finished my work nearly an hour ago and have been sitting here since, just staring into my coffee. I just can't leave.
Sure, I could just walk out the door, hop into my car, and be in my own bed within a matter of twenty minutes. It's the prospect of coming back her in four hours that's stopping me from leaving right now.
Plus the idea of me driving right now, when coffee is somehow managing to mesmerize me, isn't sounding like a wise thing to do. And so I continue to sit counting down the minutes to the time when it's morning and its time to work again.
It's times like this, I wish I had someone, anyone. The closet thing I've had to any kind of relationship in the last past four years, was Laurie- not only was she a call girl, but the relationship managed to go nowhere and get me on the cover of every tabloid from her to Taiwan.
"Sam?"
I gaze up at the door to the sight of Donna standing in my doorway, a coffee-cup clenched in her hand. She looks at me worriedly and I have this feeling she's going to try to mother me really soon.
In an effort to save myself from another potential second mother, I clear my voice and ask, "Donna? What are you doing here this late?"
"Josh is working, so I'm working."
It's a simple sentence and a logical one (Josh can't do anything, including fix his tie without Donna), but it makes me wish for a relationship. Okay, so Josh and Donna are not a couple and they most likely never will me. They have professionalism and the wrath of C.J. to stop them from crossing that line, but when I see them, I can't help but wonder about life beyond bachelorhood.
I suddenly become conscious that I've been staring into space and I divert my attention back to Donna, who is looking at me with this really strange look on her face.
"What? Do I have something on my face?" I try to get my voice to sound normal, but I fail and my tone sounds really squeaky.
Donna shakes her head and hands me the warm cup of coffee. "I came to see if you were okay."
"I'm fine," I say sounding anything but.
"Tired?"
"Very. How about you?"
"Exhausted, but Josh, the slave driver, seems to think he works better with no sleep and thinks the same is true for me. So yet *again*, I've been forced by Josh to work overtime. I'm telling you one of these days I'm just going to out and quit, then we would see how Josh can do without me. He can't even open the file cabinet..."
I smile. It's the same thing every single day. Good, I envy them. I rub my temples; I really can't believe it- I envy a platonic relationship between two people, that will go nowhere, makes absolutely no sense, and mostly consists of quick banter and shouting.
Yup, its official, I am pathetic. I have no life.
"Sam, are you really okay?" Donna has stopped rambling again and is looking at me strangely again.
"Yeah."
"You don't look so good. Why don't you go home?"
"I would but the likelihood of me driving off the road in a caffeine-induced coma is becoming bigger by the minute, so driving doesn't look so appealing right about now."
She nods and stands up. "I should probably go."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I've been here nearly ten minutes. You know Josh; he needs adult supervision. He's probably declared war on France and pisted off half the Republication population."
I chuckle and shake my head. As Donna turns to leave, I stop her. "Wait, Donna!"
She turns towards me. "Yeah, Sam?"
"I'm I likeable?"
She widens her eyes and after a second or two erupts into a fit of giggles. I feel my face starting to turn a dark shade of red as she holds her sides as she laughs. Finally after a few minutes, her laughter subsides and she wipes away her tears.
"Are you done now?"
She nods, still chuckling.
"You know this is an important question." She looks at me before launching into another giggle fit- yes fit. I narrow my eyes at her and wait for her to finish.
After another five minutes of me turning bright red, she stops laughing and calms down. "Sorry, it's just. Well, what a stupid question."
"Stupid question?"
"Yeah! I mean what kind of question is "Are you done now?" She asks, mimicking my voice.
"An important one."
She starts to giggle again and my already thin patience is starting to wear out. "Donna!"
She stops and looks at me incredulously. "Wow, you sounded just like Josh right there, now that's just plain creepy."
I narrow my eyes at her. "Could you just answer the question please?"
She smiles and shakes her head. "Sam, of course you're likable. That's is why the question is so funny. I could only answer that question with a straight face if Toby asked me it."
I sigh. "Great, I'm likeable, dependable, boring old Sam. Perfect."
"I don't know about boring, but you are likeable and dependable. That's great, though, Sam! Lots of women what a guy who is handsome, funny, smart, dependable, caring, and likeable, including me." She said the last part more quiet and I strained to hear her.
Oh my god! Could it me possible or did Donna Moss- my best friend's assistant actually call me funny, smart, caring, and handsome! No way, it's impossible! And she didn't just say women would me; she said that she- Donna Moss- liked me. That means Donna Moss likes me!
Whoa, relax there pal. You're starting to sound like a hormone driven thirteen-year-old girl not a thirty-three-year-old political speechwriter. But still, I've been called handsome before, but not by Donna Moss!
I try to calm by breathing and look normal. "Thanks, Donna. I appreciate what you said."
She smiles again at me and I feel blush starting to creep onto my face again. No! No, no, no, no, no! There is no way; absolutely no way I'm falling for Donna Moss! No way, do you hear me, no way!
She tilts her head ever so slightly and her hair falls gently over her face. She looks like an angel- oh God! I'm not falling for Donna Moss. I've fallen; head over heels.
"You're welcome, Sam." She smiles again and glances at her watch. "Geez, I'm been in here for forty minutes, I'm surprised Josh hasn't bellowed for me yet."
As if on cue, Josh came barreling into the bullpen, yelling "Donna!" along the way. Donna and I looked at each other and laughed. Josh, with his built in Donna-radar, heard her and walked into my office.
"Donna! Where have you been, we're not done with the proposal yet!" Josh looked from Donna to me to Donna again.
"Relax Josh, the proposal isn't due tomorrow and I needed a break."
"In Sam's office?"
"I decided to share my coffee break with someone else and sense you were working like tomorrow is Armageddon, I decided to drink coffee with Sam."
"Did you bring coffee to Sam?"
"For a matter of fact, yes."
"That's not fair. Where's my coffee?"
"You'll see your coffee, when I get a raise."
"Margaret brings coffee to Leo."
"You're not Leo."
"So let me get this right, you bring coffee to Sam, and Margaret brings coffee to Leo, but I have to get my own."
"You have legs, you get it."
"This is administrative hierarchy!"
Donna was about to respond, when I cleared my throat. "Ummm...guys? As entertaining as this is, you think you could argue in Josh's office?"
Josh nodded his head and turned to leave. "See ya, Sam! Donna!"
"Coming, master!" Donna answered and smiled at me again. "Bye, Sam."
"Thanks for cheering me up. This whole campaign, M.S. thing, everything...it really wears me down and I needed some cheering up."
Donna leans against the doorway. "I think something else is bothering you, Sam, and it's not the upcoming election or the President." And with that she left.
I sigh and gaze back into my coffee cup. Just as the dark liquid is going to overcome my senses and hypnotize me for the second time, I break the spell and stand up.
Grabbing my coat and suitcase, I leave my office and head towards home, with one goal in my mind: To start a life outside the White House. Maybe one with Donna...
**********************************************************
Hey! I hoped you like the story! I'm not sure if I should continue this story, because I will my making a series very soon that is sort of a continuation of this story. It will involve Sam and the whole West Wing as they all experience the ups and downs of dating. But this story could be totally different plot line involving Sam and Donna. Hmmmm...the possibilities... Tell me what you think!
If you want to donate money, time, or effort please go the American Red Cross website at http://www.redcross.org or go to your own neighborhood shelter or hospital. You may be miles away from New York or Washington, but everyone everywhere needs help, not just the victims of September 11 and their families.
Author: PixieDot (That's Me!)
Summary: Sam has some late night musings with help from Donna and coffee.
Rating: PG, because I don't like the rating G and PG sounded like a good rating.
Disclaimer: I don't own "The West Wing" or any characters from it. (Duh!) Spoilers: If you don't watch "The West Wing" then don't read this fanfic!
Comments or Questions: Put 'em in your review with your e-mail.
Coffee. It's an interesting liquid. There's just something about that dark caffeine-high liquid full of cream and sugar. It can be the difference between staying awake and crashing head first into a sleep-deprived coma. Doctors, Police, Paramedics, Security Guards and just about anybody who has to work 18 hour days or is expected to last through the night shift rely on this substance to at least make them half-awake.
I suppose that has to be the reason why, at three o'clock in the morning, I'm sitting at my desk just staring into my cold cup of French-vanilla roast. Now the fact that I'm sitting here at 3 am is in itself not unusual. When you work at the White House, you tend to lose all sleep any remnants of a social life. I have managed to see the sunrise a total of 139 times this year- and that's not because I wake up early.
The unusual thing about this scene is the blatant fact that I have no work spread out in front of me. I'm not typing furiously at my laptop trying to churn out a speech or any political working. In fact, I finished my work nearly an hour ago and have been sitting here since, just staring into my coffee. I just can't leave.
Sure, I could just walk out the door, hop into my car, and be in my own bed within a matter of twenty minutes. It's the prospect of coming back her in four hours that's stopping me from leaving right now.
Plus the idea of me driving right now, when coffee is somehow managing to mesmerize me, isn't sounding like a wise thing to do. And so I continue to sit counting down the minutes to the time when it's morning and its time to work again.
It's times like this, I wish I had someone, anyone. The closet thing I've had to any kind of relationship in the last past four years, was Laurie- not only was she a call girl, but the relationship managed to go nowhere and get me on the cover of every tabloid from her to Taiwan.
"Sam?"
I gaze up at the door to the sight of Donna standing in my doorway, a coffee-cup clenched in her hand. She looks at me worriedly and I have this feeling she's going to try to mother me really soon.
In an effort to save myself from another potential second mother, I clear my voice and ask, "Donna? What are you doing here this late?"
"Josh is working, so I'm working."
It's a simple sentence and a logical one (Josh can't do anything, including fix his tie without Donna), but it makes me wish for a relationship. Okay, so Josh and Donna are not a couple and they most likely never will me. They have professionalism and the wrath of C.J. to stop them from crossing that line, but when I see them, I can't help but wonder about life beyond bachelorhood.
I suddenly become conscious that I've been staring into space and I divert my attention back to Donna, who is looking at me with this really strange look on her face.
"What? Do I have something on my face?" I try to get my voice to sound normal, but I fail and my tone sounds really squeaky.
Donna shakes her head and hands me the warm cup of coffee. "I came to see if you were okay."
"I'm fine," I say sounding anything but.
"Tired?"
"Very. How about you?"
"Exhausted, but Josh, the slave driver, seems to think he works better with no sleep and thinks the same is true for me. So yet *again*, I've been forced by Josh to work overtime. I'm telling you one of these days I'm just going to out and quit, then we would see how Josh can do without me. He can't even open the file cabinet..."
I smile. It's the same thing every single day. Good, I envy them. I rub my temples; I really can't believe it- I envy a platonic relationship between two people, that will go nowhere, makes absolutely no sense, and mostly consists of quick banter and shouting.
Yup, its official, I am pathetic. I have no life.
"Sam, are you really okay?" Donna has stopped rambling again and is looking at me strangely again.
"Yeah."
"You don't look so good. Why don't you go home?"
"I would but the likelihood of me driving off the road in a caffeine-induced coma is becoming bigger by the minute, so driving doesn't look so appealing right about now."
She nods and stands up. "I should probably go."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I've been here nearly ten minutes. You know Josh; he needs adult supervision. He's probably declared war on France and pisted off half the Republication population."
I chuckle and shake my head. As Donna turns to leave, I stop her. "Wait, Donna!"
She turns towards me. "Yeah, Sam?"
"I'm I likeable?"
She widens her eyes and after a second or two erupts into a fit of giggles. I feel my face starting to turn a dark shade of red as she holds her sides as she laughs. Finally after a few minutes, her laughter subsides and she wipes away her tears.
"Are you done now?"
She nods, still chuckling.
"You know this is an important question." She looks at me before launching into another giggle fit- yes fit. I narrow my eyes at her and wait for her to finish.
After another five minutes of me turning bright red, she stops laughing and calms down. "Sorry, it's just. Well, what a stupid question."
"Stupid question?"
"Yeah! I mean what kind of question is "Are you done now?" She asks, mimicking my voice.
"An important one."
She starts to giggle again and my already thin patience is starting to wear out. "Donna!"
She stops and looks at me incredulously. "Wow, you sounded just like Josh right there, now that's just plain creepy."
I narrow my eyes at her. "Could you just answer the question please?"
She smiles and shakes her head. "Sam, of course you're likable. That's is why the question is so funny. I could only answer that question with a straight face if Toby asked me it."
I sigh. "Great, I'm likeable, dependable, boring old Sam. Perfect."
"I don't know about boring, but you are likeable and dependable. That's great, though, Sam! Lots of women what a guy who is handsome, funny, smart, dependable, caring, and likeable, including me." She said the last part more quiet and I strained to hear her.
Oh my god! Could it me possible or did Donna Moss- my best friend's assistant actually call me funny, smart, caring, and handsome! No way, it's impossible! And she didn't just say women would me; she said that she- Donna Moss- liked me. That means Donna Moss likes me!
Whoa, relax there pal. You're starting to sound like a hormone driven thirteen-year-old girl not a thirty-three-year-old political speechwriter. But still, I've been called handsome before, but not by Donna Moss!
I try to calm by breathing and look normal. "Thanks, Donna. I appreciate what you said."
She smiles again at me and I feel blush starting to creep onto my face again. No! No, no, no, no, no! There is no way; absolutely no way I'm falling for Donna Moss! No way, do you hear me, no way!
She tilts her head ever so slightly and her hair falls gently over her face. She looks like an angel- oh God! I'm not falling for Donna Moss. I've fallen; head over heels.
"You're welcome, Sam." She smiles again and glances at her watch. "Geez, I'm been in here for forty minutes, I'm surprised Josh hasn't bellowed for me yet."
As if on cue, Josh came barreling into the bullpen, yelling "Donna!" along the way. Donna and I looked at each other and laughed. Josh, with his built in Donna-radar, heard her and walked into my office.
"Donna! Where have you been, we're not done with the proposal yet!" Josh looked from Donna to me to Donna again.
"Relax Josh, the proposal isn't due tomorrow and I needed a break."
"In Sam's office?"
"I decided to share my coffee break with someone else and sense you were working like tomorrow is Armageddon, I decided to drink coffee with Sam."
"Did you bring coffee to Sam?"
"For a matter of fact, yes."
"That's not fair. Where's my coffee?"
"You'll see your coffee, when I get a raise."
"Margaret brings coffee to Leo."
"You're not Leo."
"So let me get this right, you bring coffee to Sam, and Margaret brings coffee to Leo, but I have to get my own."
"You have legs, you get it."
"This is administrative hierarchy!"
Donna was about to respond, when I cleared my throat. "Ummm...guys? As entertaining as this is, you think you could argue in Josh's office?"
Josh nodded his head and turned to leave. "See ya, Sam! Donna!"
"Coming, master!" Donna answered and smiled at me again. "Bye, Sam."
"Thanks for cheering me up. This whole campaign, M.S. thing, everything...it really wears me down and I needed some cheering up."
Donna leans against the doorway. "I think something else is bothering you, Sam, and it's not the upcoming election or the President." And with that she left.
I sigh and gaze back into my coffee cup. Just as the dark liquid is going to overcome my senses and hypnotize me for the second time, I break the spell and stand up.
Grabbing my coat and suitcase, I leave my office and head towards home, with one goal in my mind: To start a life outside the White House. Maybe one with Donna...
**********************************************************
Hey! I hoped you like the story! I'm not sure if I should continue this story, because I will my making a series very soon that is sort of a continuation of this story. It will involve Sam and the whole West Wing as they all experience the ups and downs of dating. But this story could be totally different plot line involving Sam and Donna. Hmmmm...the possibilities... Tell me what you think!
If you want to donate money, time, or effort please go the American Red Cross website at http://www.redcross.org or go to your own neighborhood shelter or hospital. You may be miles away from New York or Washington, but everyone everywhere needs help, not just the victims of September 11 and their families.