"Sam, I can walk!"
Donna quickly stood from her desk as Josh's complaints echoed down the hallway. He and Sam had a noon meeting with the congressman from southern California.
It was supposed to be jogging in Rock Creek Park.
They slowly came into view. Josh hobbling down the hall, supported by Sam and one of the Secret Service agents from the front gate. His left leg was bent, a line of dried blood running from his knee to his ankle.
"What happened?" She demanded, replacing the agent and guiding them towards Josh's office.
The two men were still in their workout clothes, although Josh's spandex biking shorts were ripped.
"Jogging wasn't jogging. It was roller blading," Sam started to explain as they lowered Josh into his chair.
"OUCH!"
"You can blade?" Donna directed her question to her boss.
"It's a hidden talent. I can ice skate, too." Josh gave her a weak smile, trying to not put any pressure on his left hip.
She glared at him. "I ask again. What happened?"
"There was a stick."
"A stick?" Donna repeated Sam's words with disbelief.
"A big stick," Josh elaborated.
"It was a twig, Josh." The other man clarified.
"You tripped over a stick?"
"We were going about 12 miles an hour, Donna and someone who shall remain nameless, Sam, skated around it and forgot to mention it was there. I never saw it until I was back on my feet."
Donna took his leg and propped it up on the desk. The knee had a bloody knot the size of a half-dollar on it. The blood had dried over already and there was a trace of road rash on his shin.
"It was a spectacular fall though." Admiration seeped through Sam's voice.
"It was humiliating."
"You did a complete airborne somersault, landed on your butt, skidded twenty feet, bounced on to your knee, skidded another five feet and finally bounced back on your blades. It was awesome."
"The front gate said somebody needed a doctor." Mrs. Bartlet's voice rang through the bullpen.
"I thought she was in Africa this week," Josh groaned as the First Lady stormed into his office with a First Aid kit in her hands.
"You couldn't get that lucky. What the hell happened?" She rounded the desk to get a look at the injury. "Nice road rash. What were you doing?"
"We had a jogging meeting that became a blading meeting," Sam offered.
"You let him on in-line skates?" Abbey's voice contained the same disbelief Donna's had earlier.
"Donna, get the Lanacane spray out of the kit. Josh, why the hell are you sitting like that?"
"He skidded about twenty feet on the back of his leg before he bounced onto his knees."
"Sam, shut up." Josh hissed. "OUCH! Damn, warn a person when you're going to spray that stuff! Shit! It hurts!"
"Have you looked at the back of your leg yet?" The First Lady asked, ignoring his outburst.
"No."
"Well, stand up and take your shorts off," she ordered.
Josh squirmed for a couple of seconds. "Ma'am, I'd rather not."
"I don't care what you'd rather do, take your damn shorts off."
"I'm going to go clean up now." Sam beat a path out of the office.
"Josh."
"Ma'am?"
"You're still wearing your shorts."
"Yes, ma'am."
"TAKE THEM OFF!"
Casting a brief glance at Donna leaning in the doorway smirking, Josh turned away from Abbey and stripped off his shorts.
"That's got to hurt," she observed, hitching the hem of his shirt up to see how far up his thigh the scrape went before falling silent.
"Josh Lyman." Mrs. Bartlet growled.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Why in the hell aren't you wearing any underwear?"
"They're built into the shorts." Josh replied, so embarrassed his butt blushed.
"Donna, give me the spray."
Josh clenched his hamstring in anticipation of the sting, but he still yelped when she applied it. He quickly pulled his shorts back up once the First Lady was finished.
"Have Donna put gauze pads on those after you shower." She handed a box of non-stick gauze pads and tape to the younger woman on her way out.
"I'm going to die soon, aren't I?" Josh groaned, gingerly sitting back down in his chair.
"Just make sure you put some underwear on before I have to do this."