Title: You Don't Know Me
Author: Amber (ambino1111@yahoo.com)
Category: It'd ruin it, but Josh/Donna?? Donna/Sam??
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Oh, it's all game
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, these characters are being misused by owner Aaron Sorkin. The song is sung by Elvis Presley (among many others), but I'm not sure who wrote it.
Author's Notes: Okay, I'd been noticing how friendly Donna and Sam had been (you know, before Sam was kicked out of the show) and me and my overactive imagination began to ponder the situation (because it was much easier to face than the loss of Sam Seaborn). I'd had an idea in my head about Sam and Donna about since even before SGTE, SGTJ, and it has since snowballed. In fact, this fic has inspired a much longer one tentatively titled "The Rules." Keep an eye out for it in the future.
*****
He couldn't really remember the specific reason behind the event, maybe it was something to do with the budget, but he found himself sitting at the bar in a fancy ballroom in a tux, his bowtie undone and hanging around his neck like an incompetent noose. He'd only had two drinks and was halfway through his third when the depressant began to work its magic on his brain. At once he felt both relaxed and restless.
His feet, safely ensconced in expensive dress shoes, began to tap anxiously on the bottom rung of the bar stool. His eyes roamed over the hundreds of dancers slowly swaying on the shiny wooden floor. For such an intelligent and attractive man, he found himself a wallflower during too many of these political parties.
His gaze fell upon the President and the First Lady, who were smiling as they gently twirled in each other's arms. Jed Bartlet whispered something funny to his wife and she smacked his arm lightly. Sam found himself smiling at the pair, while at the same time his heart ached for the kind of love they obviously had and he never would.
He next deciphered CJ and Toby in the well-dressed crowd of politicians and assorted leaders. The Press Secretary gorgeously filled a long and revealing red dress that Sam bet cost her a pretty penny. Next to her, his arms crossed in front of his chest, stood Sam's tuxedoed boss. The Deputy Communications Director had to swallow a chuckle at CJ's attempts to get the stubborn Jewish writer to do more than sway the upper portion of his body to the music. They held Sam's interest for a while, until CJ ultimately won and the two began to waltz around the floor.
He watched Leo dance with Margaret, then cut in and share a dance with the First Lady. Sam's eyes drooped down to stare at his half-empty martini.
He hated martinis.
It was then, out of the corner of his eye, that Sam caught sight of his best friend. Donning a wrinkled tuxedo, much to Donna's chagrin, Josh was dancing with his blonde assistant.
That fact alone was nothing new or out of the ordinary. Josh and Donna had danced together many times at these political functions, just as Sam had danced with Cathy and Ginger and Bonnie, and Leo with Margaret, and the President with Mrs. Landingham, before she died. It wasn't strange or bizarre to see the couple moving together out on the dance floor; they usually didn't last long because Josh would inevitably be either too inebriated to dance or he'd drag Donna back to the office or a hotel room to work.
But tonight was different.
Sam couldn't pinpoint why, but they were standing a little closer than normal, swaying a little more slowly than usual, holding each other a little more tightly than they should.
The sight made Sam cringe. Although Joshua Lyman was Sam's best friend, or maybe *because* he was, Sam knew enough about the older man's track record with women to be concerned for Donna. When, not if, they'd get into a romantic relationship, it would be a catastrophe. Josh would inevitably screw it up, and their working relationship would be forever destroyed.
But that didn't bother Sam as much as the thought that Josh was going to hurt Donna's heart, crush her beautiful spirit, and Sam was merely going to let it happen. Donna was his friend, and friends protected each other.
Sam, however, couldn't protect Donna. He had to let her make this one particular mistake, no matter how much it hurt him to see it happen. He had to stay away from her and her quirkiness and intelligence and kindness and beauty.
He had to stay away, because he thought he might have been falling in love with her.
Sam told himself it was crazy. It truly was. Sam did not really love Donna; he merely enjoyed her presence. He did not long to be in the same room as her, to watch her while she talked animatedly with her slender hands, to listen to the tone of her voice and the melody of her delivery as much as the actual words she spoke.
He didn't really love Donna; he simply respected her. He certainly did not go out of his way to pass by her desk, to pester her about Josh's schedule in the pretense that Josh was the reason he had come to visit her, to get into elaborate discussions with her about random trivia when he had much more urgent and pressing matters to attend to.
He didn't actually love Donna; he merely loved the attention she gave him. When Sam found out about his dad's affair, and how his entire childhood had been tainted with betrayal, Donna was there to comfort him. Sure, she had tried to take advantage of his vulnerability by advising her friend on how to manipulate him, but she did admit she was wrong in thinking and doing that. And in the end, it was Donna who had hugged him, held him while he cried a little, and it was late night phone calls with Donna that had helped him through the very trying ordeal.
He could not love Donna; she essentially belonged to his best friend. He had been friends with Josh for years, and he respected and valued their friendship, and he would never let anyone, least of all Donnatella Moss, to get in between them. They were buddies, Sam and Josh, and Josh and Donna were clearly in love with each other. No love triangle would ever exist between the three of them. Sam would not allow it.
He was not in love with Donnatella Moss. It was impossible.
Except... he was.
And it was getting worse.
He admired Donna for her ability to hide her love for her boss as well as she did. Every day it was getting more and more difficult for Sam to hide his love away. Every morning he would wake up, be all alone, realize that the woman he wanted was in love with another man, and get ready for work. If he kept up his negative thoughts, it was easier to face Donna and Josh at the office.
On the few occasions where his thoughts would turn positive and fill his mind with foolish dreams and hopes and ideas of love, he would avoid her and immerse himself in work.
Most of the time he was successful.
It was these social events that really tried his restraint.
It didn't help matters any that Josh and Donna were headed his way, smiles on their slightly flushed faces.
As far as he knew, they weren't dating. They hadn't even kissed, but Sam knew it wasn't far off.
The thought made him gulp the rest of his drink and try to walk away before his two friends arrived.
Perhaps if he hadn't have had those first two drinks, he could have gotten away in time. As it was, he stood up and took one step before Josh and Donna arrived, laughing, and Josh ordered himself a drink.
"Come dance with me, Sam," Donna smiled, innocently holding out her hand. Sam looked at it reluctantly before glancing at Josh. Josh smiled and waved, holding up his drink.
"Go on, Sam. Go dance with the lady. I can't keep up with her."
"It's because you're drunk, Joshua," Donna commented cheekily.
"It's because my shoes are slippery," Josh retorted. Sam half-expected him to stick out his tongue.
Donna rolled her eyes. "Whatever," She sighed, then wiggled her hand. It was still in the air, inches from Sam's slightly trembling one. "C'mon, Sam. You know how to show a woman a good time."
"On the dance floor?" Josh sounded more amused than Sam would have liked him to be. "Sam can't dance to save his life."
"He dances better than you do," Donna defended snidely. Sam really was surprised that she didn't stick out her tongue.
Josh snorted, and Sam quieted the protesting voice of his conscience and took Donna's hand in his own. She led him out to the middle of the dance floor, and they smiled at each other while the orchestra started the next slow song.
You give your hand to me
And then you say hello
And I can hardly speak
My heart is beating so
And anyone could tell
You think you know well
But you don't know me
They didn't say anything for a while, just silently danced, not even looking at each other. Sam was trying to pay close attention to Donna while appearing not at all interested in the woman he was holding. He saw her bright eyes rove over the crowd and settle over his shoulder.
Sam knew at whom she was staring.
A sudden, rather childish urge overwhelmed him, and he could not quell it. Swaying with the music, he gently moved his dance partner so that her back was to the bar.
Donna had no complaints; Sam doubted she knew that was his plan. He hoped she didn't know.
After a few seconds, the silence grew uncomfortable, and they each felt compelled to talk. Friends of the opposite sex can only dance so long before it gets awkward.
"So how are you?" was all Sam could muster. At the same time, Donna asked, "Is there anyone new in your love life?"
Sam began to choke. He coughed a few times, letting go of Donna. In his haze, he saw her concerned expression.
"Are you okay, Sam?"
"Just choking on air," He managed to cough out. Donna nodded, still looking worried. Sam caught his breath again and Donna took his hand back in hers.
"So where were we?" Sam asked, preparing himself for Donna's question.
"Well, you asked how I am. And I am doing quite well," Donna smiled at him and he felt like crying. How could he do this to himself? "And I asked if there was anyone new in your love life, and you choked, so I'm taking that as a yes, but it's a secret and you don't want anyone to know."
Sam couldn't believe his luck. An opportunity like that didn't always present itself. "Yes, yes," He covered, lying like the politician he was. "It's not really anything yet, but I'm always hopeful."
Donna grinned up at him, and even her eyes twinkled with her beauty. "Hope springs eternal," She said softly. For a second, Sam thought, he hoped, that maybe, maybe she knew, maybe she knew and felt the same way...
But her eyes drifted back to the bar, to which they had turned to face when Sam was coughing, and the soused Deputy knew the absolute truth.
She wasn't hoping for Sam; her heart belonged only to Josh.
No, You don't know the one
Who dreams of you at night
And longs to kiss your lips
And longs to hold you tight
To you I'm just a friend
That's all I've ever been
No, you don't know me
It had started, really, the day they had met, during lunch, just outside of Josh's makeshift office during the campaign. Josh had told him about the "ballsy" girl who had assumed the role of his assistant, and Sam had only half-listened. He was too excited about the campaign, and there were so many things to take care of. He didn't have time for gossip.
But later that day, Sam had been briskly walking through the halls of their cramped and crowded headquarters, carrying some of sub sandwiches and bottles of water one of the volunteers had brought. He had been hurrying to bring lunch to Toby and Josh and CJ and then get back to work, and he rounded a corner and ran right into someone. They both fell to the ground in a mess of lettuce, deli meat, bread, and paper. After the apologies and the embarrassed laughter, Sam realized that the woman sitting across from him was attractive, and he introduced himself. As soon as she said her name his brain processed that she was the girl with whom Josh had suddenly become enthralled. Sam knew he was in for some heartache.
He managed to push his undeveloped feelings into the far recesses of his mind. With the kind of work they did during the campaign, and, once they got President Bartlet elected, it was not a difficult task. But he saw Donna every day, talked to her several dozen times a week, and while he was able to operate without outwardly expressing his emotions, inwardly he was a mess.
It only got worse after Rosslyn. Everyone was shaken after the shooting, and Donna even more than the rest. Sam, as the closest one to Josh, became her confidante. They worried together, they suffered together, they commiserated and finally rejoiced together.
He grew to love her then.
For I never knew the art of making love
Though my heart aches with love for you
Rain and shine, I'd let my chance go by
The chance that you might love me too
Sam closed his eyes and wished he could bottle the moment and keep it under his pillow at night. Just holding her in his arms felt so right to him, swaying to the melody felt so right to him... kissing her would feel so right to him, too. He just knew it.
But Sam couldn't do that.
Not here, not now… not ever.
You give your hand to me
And then you say goodbye
I watch you walk away
Beside the lucky guy
They didn't move as the strands of the last note carried out over the ballroom. Sam reveled in the closeness, the contentment, the split-second feeling that Donna was his and dancing with her was something he could do whenever he wanted. He cherished the naturalness of the moment, for it only lasted a moment, and before he knew it, Donna had taken his hand and was tugging him back towards the bar.
Josh had had at least two more drinks in their absence, and their effects showed as he stood to greet them and toppled over. Both Sam and Donna rushed to his side and straightened him up again.
"I better get him home," Donna announced, not particularly directing it at Sam. Sam nodded.
"Goodbye, Donna," He said softly. Donna smiled sadly at him.
"What about me? I don't, I don't, there's noth- I'm chopped liver?" Josh managed to say after some Porky Pig-type false starts.
Sam rolled his eyes as Donna began to lead Joshua towards the doors.
To never, never know
The one who loves you so
No, you don't know me
He didn't know why he kept doing it to himself. Every time, it ended the same way. And it would never, could never, end any differently.
He slipped back onto the bar stool and ordered another martini. He surveyed the room and tried not to imagine what Josh and Donna were doing.
He hated martinis.
The end. Feedback please!