A/N: Why, hello there! I'm thatTWWgirl, if we haven't been previously acquainted. I mostly write J/D, though this one strays from my usual territory.
I mean, yes, it's got J/D too. Because I'm just an incorrigible sap.
The main reason I wrote this, however, is because I've previously written some pretty anti-Amy stuff (most of which I've deleted, because... ehh). The thing is, I really don't like Amy as a character, but... I want to. Because she's one of the only solidly proclaimed feminists on the show, and it's wrong of the writers to portray her as so rude and condescending. As a feminist, I was offended.
So I wrote this; a little series redeeming Amy's character, her feminism, and a couple other things. At least, that's what my goals were. Pretty lofty, though, eh?
I hope you like it, and if you hated Amy on the show as much as I did, perhaps you'll suspend judgment?
Reviews: Ooh. Yes please.
Disclaimer: They're not mine; a fact that tortures me in the night.
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"You have a lunch today?"
"Hmm?" I look up distractedly from the schedule my new assistant had helpfully left on my desk.
"I was just wondering if you were free for lunch."
"Oh. Yeah." I smile at Josh, who's hanging around my door frame. "You want to meet up?"
He grins. "I'll have my people call your people."
"Sounds professional."
"We're powerful people."
"Well, I am."
"Alright. I'll call later."
"Okay."
"Love you."
"Love you too." It still brings a slight smile to my face. He ducks out of my office, and I'm left staring down at my schedule once more. I mean, I'd been expecting this meeting, but did it have to be first thing in the morning?
"Good morning, Ms. Moss." My assistant, Jamie, enters through the open door and shuts it behind him.
"Call me Donna, please, Jamie." I remind him. God, it felt weird to have an assistant of my own. Given my own experiences, I'm taking every step to make sure he's treated with the utmost respect.
"Oh... Yeah. Sure thing, Donna." He smiles slightly. "Umm, your first meeting is in a couple minutes."
"Yes. So I see."
"Right."
"Thanks for the schedule."
"No problem."
"You know, I... My old boss." I shake my head, flustered by the sheer irony. "When I was an assistant, I used to print my boss a schedule like this every morning. But he'd always lose it, so he'd just yell for me to tell him where to be."
Jamie gives me a surprised smile. "You were an assistant?"
I laugh lightly. "Only for eight years, Jamie."
He raises his eyebrows. Whatever he would've said next is interrupted by a knock on my door. My stomach twists slightly.
"That'll be your eight o'clock with the Legislative Affairs director."
"Amy Gardner, yes."
"Okay. I'll let her in."
"Yeah."
I stand and walk around my desk as Jamie opens the door, politely showing Amy in before heading back to his own little cubicle.
"Amy. Good morning."
"Hello, Donna." She accepts my handshake, looking around my office curiously. "Wow, did you pull a good one."
I smile. "Yeah, I did. Yours isn't too bad, though?"
"No, not horrific." She says absently.
"That's good. Well, umm, why don't we get to it? You can sit there..." I gesture awkwardly to the chair across from mine, which I make my way back to.
"Right, yeah."
I straighten the files I'd put together for this yesterday, sneaking an inconspicuous glance at her expression. She seems a tad uncomfortable, like myself; most wouldn't notice it under her easy confidence. There's no trace of malevolence, however, which I'm grateful for.
"I'm here to talk over the First Lady's preliminary plans for when we take office, legislatively speaking. What issues she intends to push, any bills she'd be supporting, or even authoring, further down the line."
I furrow my eyebrows. "She can't actually-"
"Author a bill? Oh, no. But she has certain powers of persuasion."
"Right." I smile. "Well, umm, here's the thing. The First Lady and I have been talking about it, and though there are certainly issues she has a stance on, she's just not prepared to declare a clear focus just yet."
Amy nods as though she's not surprised. "Yeah. She hasn't been too politically active in the past, so I didn't expect anything drastic too soon."
"Yeah. There are a few things we've discussed though, if you'd like me to give you the run down?"
"Things you've discussed, or things you've suggested?"
"I'm sorry?"
Amy shrugs. "Donna. The First Lady may not have a clear agenda, but there's no doubt in my mind that you're putting plenty of passion behind it."
I frown slightly. "I've gathered her input, and-"
"No, that's not a critique. That's what she brought you on to do, Donna. And that's why I'm meeting with you, and not her."
I look down at my files, trying not to blush. I remind myself that I'm not an assistant anymore, and that I can stop worrying about overstepping my bounds. I raise my eyes to hers. "You're right. Most of this is me. But Helen Santos is on board, and she gave me the go ahead to present this to you."
Amy smiles. "Well. Let's get to it, then."
Gaining confidence, I return her smile. I hardly need to look down at the file. "Sexual harassment in schools. We've got bills for the workplace, but it starts so much earlier than that. Two out of three girls admits to having been sexually harassed by the time they've graduated high school. We'd like not only for ample counselling to be available, but for a program, teaching young boys about what constitutes harassment, added into the obligatory middle school health class."
"Teaching boys not to harass, instead of-"
"Teaching young girls how not to be harassed? Yes."
There's a look of glee spreading rapidly across Amy's face. "I love it. I love it so much."
I'm taken aback. "You... Really?"
"It's drastic. I like that. It'll be difficult, sure, but there's no way I'd back down from that fight. We can help you out, there."
"Fantastic." The heat is fading from my face, as I fall into my element. "After that, we talked about minority dropout programs, child hunger, battered women's shelters..."
The meeting is completely productive after that, and we speak excitedly on the agenda I'd practically constructed myself within the past two weeks. Some ideas, she supports, others, she's dubious, but the entire thing is courteous and professional. For each of her dissents, she provides sound reasoning, and I soon grow comfortable challenging her. My biggest fear proves to be irrelevant; she treats me as an equal.
It's only as we wrap up for the hour that a subtle awkwardness drifts back into the room. She gathers together her things, and I stand stiffly. It's only as she's ready to leave that I gain the confidence to bridge the silence.
"How are you doing these days, Amy? It's been a while."
She looks at me with a mild surprise. "Oh, I'm fine. I like my position, and I'm really starting to gain confidence in the President-elect."
"Yeah, he's a good man... And outside of work? You're well?"
I'm afraid I may have crossed a line, but she doesn't seem offended by my inquiry. "Yeah. I'm well. Weather's crummy, so I haven't been able to cycle, but I tried yoga the other day."
"How was it?"
"Somehow, I don't think it's my thing."
I find myself laughing, and it's genuine. "Ah, well. It grows on you. I went for a while in college. These days I just run."
"Ah. That's good." She smiles as well, and after a moment she clears her throat. "And you? You're well?"
"Oh, yeah. Definitely." Never better.
"You got back from vacation a couple weeks ago, didn't you?"
Danger, Will Robinson! "Oh... Yeah, I did."
"Where'd you go, again?"
I attempt to analyze her expression, and I think I may have been wrong to assume that she's being passive aggressive. "Hawaii."
"Ahh. Is it nice there, even in December?"
I smile indulgently. "Beautiful, actually."
"Sounds nice." She returns my smile.
"Yeah."
"Well, I'll let you get on with your day." She jerks a thumb over her shoulder toward the door.
"It was good to see you, Amy."
"You too, Donna."
The strange thing is, I don't think either of us is lying.
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The next time I'm alone with Amy Gardner, it's a run-in in the transition office elevator a few days before inauguration. Everyone is tightly wound, this close to the big day, and I'm no exception.
"Hey, Donna."
I look up from the memo I'd been absorbed in. "Oh. Hi, Amy."
She looks over at the elevator buttons, and we must be headed for the same floor, because she doesn't push anything. "Ready for Thursday?"
I laugh dryly. "Is anyone?"
"It's doubtful."
"There's just so much to do! I mean, I thought I was busy when I was an assistant the past two times..."
"You were." She says with slight amusement. "Trust me, running Josh's office, and running Josh, was enough to keep you on your toes. Most assistants weren't swamped that way, but you were practically a member of senior staff."
I look at her in surprise. "You think?"
"Oh yeah."
I snort. "Well, I'm still running Josh, and the job certainly comes with its own hurtles." I really hadn't meant to slip in the Josh comment. I hadn't. I brace myself for a tension that doesn't come.
"Oh, I remember that all right. People severely underestimate the office of the First Lady, that I can say for sure."
I give her an appraising glance. "Don't I know it. The only questions my press secretary's been getting are about Mrs. Santos' wardrobe for Thursday."
"Oh, god. How's she handling it?"
"Well, it's Annabeth. She loves this stuff, actually. She has much more patience for it than I do."
"You and me both." Amy shakes her head. After having stopped numerous times to collect and deposit staffers, we finally reach our floor. We exit the elevator together. "That does remind me, though, I still don't have a ball gown for the occasion."
I'm hit with a sudden panic. I smack one hand against my forehead. "Oh, god! I don't either! I haven't even had time to think about it."
She raises her eyebrows at me. "Is that really so surprising, with how busy you are?"
I smile slightly. "I guess not, it's just... I always plan this kind of stuff. I'm a complete perfectionist, and I used to really love the nice, meticulous wardrobe planning for balls, and galas, and everything."
She laughs. "Can't say I'm the same way, but I do love a good dress hunt every now and again."
"Yeah. I used to go with CJ Cregg, but I doubt we'll find the time in the next few days."
"We could go together." She throws out offhandedly, and for a moment I'm so stunned I nearly trip over the office carpet. "If you're looking for a second opinion. I could definitely use one."
I'm surprised not only by the invitation, but by just how taken I am with the idea. I smile widely. "Yeah. Okay, sounds good."
"When can you make the time?"
"Umm, are you free for lunch?"
She furrows her brow for a moment. "Yeah. My deputy can take my 1:00, and then we'd have two hours."
"Great, I think... Yeah, I can push a couple things back. All in the name of fashion." I can't believe I just said that. "Meet me in the lobby?"
She smiles, with no trace of condescension. "Yeah. Sure thing."
"Okay, see you."
We both turn off the hallway in our respective directions, and I smile at Jamie as I pass. "Can you get Josh on the phone for me, Jamie?"
"Yeah."
I head into my office and start to sort through the files I'd received in my last meeting.
"He's on line one."
"Thanks, Jamie." I pick up the phone. "Hey."
"Hey, what's up?"
"I can't do lunch today."
"Why not?"
I'm not going to lie, I'm a little endeared by the disappointment in his voice. "Something came up."
"Something that's more important than me?"
"Well, most things are."
"Yeah, yeah. What is it?"
"You're going to make fun of me."
I'm almost sure I can hear the excitement in his pause. "...No I won't."
"I'm going dress shopping."
"You're... what?"
"I'm going shopping, Josh."
"Why?"
"I need a new dress."
"For what?"
"The inauguration."
"Why?"
"Because I do."
"Well, fine, but that's something I really don't understand about women."
"Among many other things."
"I just mean, I can wear the same tuxedo to every event for the next four years, and no one will care. But women need a different dress for every damn thing..."
"And heels to match."
"Whatever. Exactly."
"It is pretty sexist, isn't it?"
"It's lunacy, that's what it is."
"Okay, baby. Either way, I can't do lunch."
There's another pause on his end. "Now it pains me to say this... But I could go with you."
"...You'd go dress shopping with me?" I ask, utterly shocked.
"Okay, you don't have to act so-"
"Aw, Josh!"
"Yes, I know, I'm a great guy."
"That's so sweet!"
"Donna-"
"But you can't."
"I... what?"
"You can't come."
"Why not? I promise I won't whine that much."
"That's not-"
"I actually quite enjoy watching you try things on."
I can't help a grin. "As heartfelt as that sentiment is, you still can't come."
"Why?"
"I'm going with someone else."
"Who?"
"A friend."
"CJ?"
"...No."
"Who, then?"
"I have plenty of other friends, Josh-"
"I know, and that's why I can't keep track of them."
"I'm going with Amy."
"Amy who?"
"Amy Gardner, Josh."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"You still there?"
"Are we... Are we talking about the same Amy Gardner?"
"The Legislative Affairs one? Yes. That'd be her."
"My ex-girlfriend?"
"Oh, you know, I'd forgotten that detail."
"Donna."
"Josh."
"You... Why are you..."
"That 760 verbal SAT you have never ceases to amaze me, you know that?"
"You're not funny."
"I don't know, I think I'm pretty witty. See what I just did there? I rhymed. I also happen to be pretty and witty-"
"Donna. I'm serious."
"About what?"
"About... You said 'a friend'."
"Yes. I did."
"And then you said Amy."
"I did."
"And I just... There must be some mental disconnect here."
"I think that's all you, my love."
"Donna."
"I have to go, okay? My eleven o'clock is here."
"It's ten forty-five."
"Goodbye, Joshua."
I hang up the phone, slightly flustered. I'll admit that there's a part of me engaging in a sort of mental diabolical laughter, but I'm also a bit confused. He had a point. Combined, the three of us had an interesting history. But I don't know... I've never hated Amy. I had always been a bit biased against her in any of her disagreements with Josh, but now? I can't see why there's any reason not to get a fresh start with the relationship. I have no grudge here; I got the guy, didn't I?
And, well, as always, I'm on a mission to make everyone like me. What can I say? I like people. I'm a people-person.
That's it. I've decided. I'm doing it. I am befriending Amy Gardner.
And if that bothers Josh? Well, he can very well get over it.
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"Oh. My. God. That's the one. That's it. You're a bombshell." I lean forward on the boutique store couch, nearly spilling my wine. Yes, indeed, we were in one those establishments so pretentious that your dress-shopping came with proffered alcohol.
"You think?" Amy turns to look in the mirror, eyebrows cocked. "I don't know."
"What do you mean 'you don't know'? You look amazing." And she did. The green dress fit like a glove, hugging all the right places and draping gracefully.
"Do you think it's a bit... Much?"
I furrow my brow. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know, it's just that one time I made the mistake of following Josh around the White House in a tight red dress, and every time I look back on it... I've never felt more unprofessional in my life."
I wave a hand. "Oh, please. I say use what you've got to your advantage. Don't be shamed by men, by other women, whoever. You look good in it, you feel good in it, wear it."
She points a finger at me. "You're right, Donna Moss. You are so right. We're powerful women. And we deserve to look damn good."
"Damn right."
I'll admit it. We've been hitting the designer dress store wine pretty heavily.
She flops back onto the couch beside me. "Your turn."
"Don't you want to change back into your suit?"
"No, I think I'll wear this to work." She rolls her eyes at me.
"Right. You'll change later?"
"Go put on a nice dress, Donna."
"Okay." I smile softly, pulling the first dress off of a stack that the shop assistant had piled into my arms.
I emerge meekly a few minutes later.
Amy raises her eyebrows. "No."
"It's so..." I stand in front of the mirror, swishing the black skirt. "Grim."
"You look like you're going to the Queen's funeral. Next option."
"Right." I grab a blue dress.
Amy's expression when I emerge is much the same as last time.
"You look like a Barbie doll."
"In a good way?" I ask hopefully, turning to examine my reflection. "Never mind."
She rises from the couch precariously, coming to stand behind me. Beside her, I look like some sort of ice princess.
"You look fourteen."
"Yeah."
"This is your first big appearance. You need to radiate power."
"...Have you met me?" I ask incredulously.
"I think you can do it." She says firmly, heading back to sort through my choices. She hands me one. "Try this."
I oblige. I don't know what it is, but her critiques don't offend me. She's honest, and I like that. It's helpful... Something a friend would do.
"Yes." She sets her wine glass down with a clink as I exit the changing room. "Yes, yes, yes. Look at yourself."
She'd chosen the silver gray one for me, which I probably wouldn't have gone for myself, but she's right. I look... Good.
"Am I radiating power?"
She smirks. "I think so."
I grin. I look poised, sophisticated, intelligent... All the things I need to be on Thursday.
"Nobody will be able to take their eyes off of you."
"You think?"
"Oh yeah. Josh especially."
I feel a slight blush creeping over me, but I fight it back. If she can bridge the awkwardness, then so can I.
"Eyes, among other things." She adds, taking a sip of wine.
I laugh nervously. "I think I'll go with 'it makes me look powerful'."
"Fair enough."
I head back to the couch, sinking into the cushions. "So that's that."
"We have dresses."
"We look good."
"We look really good."
"I don't want to go back to work."
"We could play hookie." She suggests absently.
"Mm. It's an idea."
We both smile. It's a while before either of us speaks again.
"I don't have many female friends, Donna."
I raise my eyebrows. "No?"
"Don't pretend you're surprised."
I shrug. "Okay."
"And it's rather ironic for a feminist, don't you think?"
I shrug again. My head lolls to one side on the back of the sofa, and I give her a charming grin. "As it so happens, I'm in the market."
"Oh really?"
"CJ's moving to California, I lost touch with most people over the course of the campaign... Or even before that, I guess."
"Look's like we've got a deal, then."
"I should think so."
We shake hands with faint amusement.
"This isn't weird, is it?"
"What?"
"You and I. It's not weird for you, is it? I noticed you tense up when I made that comment about Josh-"
I shake my head, effectively cutting her off. "Amy, it doesn't bother me. If you're content to let bygones be bygones, so am I."
"Well. Okay then."
"Josh is irrelevant to us. Whoever said that two women have to hold petty disdain for each other just because at one point in time, they liked the same man? It's stupid, it trivializes female morality, and it centers around the idea that our lives revolve around the men in them."
"Spoken like a true feminist."
"I get very social justicey when I'm tipsy."
"Social justicey?"
"Can we pretend that's a word?"
"Sure thing." She's smiling widely.
"I say, sisterhood."
"Sisterhood." She echoes thoughtfully. "I'll drink to that."
I raise my glass. "To sisterhood-"
"-and feminism."
We clink our glasses. "Cheers."
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It's late one night, in week two of the administration, that Josh creeps in the doorway as quietly as possible. From where I sit watching CSPAN on the couch, I hear him anyway. I call out without turning around.
"Hey, baby."
His footsteps pause before heading around the living room doorway. "You're up."
I can hear the grin in his voice. "Does this disappoint you?"
"I told you not to wait up for me."
"Mm, well. I've always been a rebel."
He swings over the back of the couch, which I'm constantly telling him not to do. ("It's not impressive, and you're damaging the furniture"). Alright. So it's a little impressive.
"Yeah, well. There are numerous ticks on your FBI file that attest to it."
"I'm reckless." Contentedly, I wrap my arms around him. Despite having been out in the cold, he's warmer than I am.
"I'm talking parking tickets on top of parking tickets, Donnatella."
"Which reminds me, there's something I need to tell you..."
"You're kidding."
"There were no spaces outside Starbucks this morning, Josh."
"I let you drive my car..."
"It's a nice car."
"I'm a nice guy."
"Yeah." Absently, I stretch up to kiss his jawline. I'm quite sure I've avoided any further harassment about the parking ticket, as he lifts one hand to the side of my face. The kiss he gives me is very appropriately I-haven't-seen-you-all-day-and-I'm-dying.
"So how was your day?" I ask idly, drawing back an inch.
"Long." His hand has moved from my face; it's gone exploring. He's kissing his way down my neck. It's quite enjoyable, really, but I'm the image of casualty.
"I missed you at lunch."
"Mm." He's hardly listening. Perfect. I shift to his lap and get rid of his tie.
"But I ate with someone else."
"Sorry."
"No, it was nice." I'm halfway through the buttons. "I like Amy."
It takes him a minute to process this, and when he does, he freezes. He raises his lips from my collarbone, dammit, and his hand falls from my breast, dammit. "You want to talk about this now?"
He saw right through me. "Now's as good a time as any." It really isn't. I mean, come on, I'm on his lap. I'd gotten pretty into my "distraction", too, ya know, but I suppose there's no going back now.
"It really isn't."
I shrug. "Well, now's when we're talking about it."
Maybe it'll motivate him to hurry along and come around to my way of thinking. And then we can move on to bigger and better things.
"Donna..."
"We've been spending a lot of time together. We're becoming good friends."
"You like her?"
"I do."
"Why?"
I scowl at him, leaning back a bit. "Because she's nice, and intelligent, and not everything revolves around you."
"That's not what I..." He casts about for the right words. "It doesn't bother you?"
"Why would it?"
"Because I... Because we used to... You're not jealous?"
"Do I have anything to be jealous of?" I raise my eyebrows.
"No." He says easily.
I shrug, grinning. "Didn't think so."
Hoping that's the end of it, I lean down to kiss him again, but he pulls away after a moment.
"Why are you so intent on befriending my exes? Mandy, Joey Lucas, that woman from my college reunion three years ago... And we weren't even together then."
I sigh, rolling sideways off his lap. Evidently, we're not done here. "I'm a people person, Josh."
"I mean, I pretty much hate everyone you've ever dated."
"Dated? Josh, you threatened a guy who looked at me for too long during the inaugural balls with a baseball bat."
"Not to his face."
"But to mine, Josh."
"Just goes to show-"
"That you're a petty, jealous jackass? Well, I'm not, so you should get used to it."
"I'm just sayin', soon, the only one you'll have left to cross off the list is the girl who taught me to French kiss in tenth grade."
"Well." I stand up, heading into the kitchen for god knows what. "Maybe I should give her a call, seeing as I've got a lot to thank her for."
He follows me doggedly. "Donna..."
What did I come in here for? I grab a glass and pour myself some water. "Does it bother you?"
"Does it bother... Does you befriending my exes bother me?"
"Amy in particular, but yes." I hop up on the counter, slightly nervous about his answer.
"I mean... Yeah."
"Because you're tempted?"
"I... What?" He's staring at me, open mouthed. He looks a little ridiculous, shirt half-on and hair all over the place, but I don't laugh. I gaze down at the glass in my hands.
"If she's around more often, you're not tempted to... You're not reminded of-"
"No." He interrupts me firmly. "Donna, no."
I raise my eyes tentatively. "No?"
He looks almost offended at my suggestion. He comes to stand in front of me, hands resting lightly on my waist. "That's ridiculous."
"Don't call me ridiculous."
"I'm reminded of what massive mistakes I made. I'm reminded that I spent nearly nine years with my head up my ass, and I'm pretty embarrassed that I spent it with women like that. Because compared to you... God, it's all crap, Donna."
Ah, crap. Now he's got me grinning like a sap. How does he do that? It's the eyes. "Yeah?"
"You can be friends with Amy if you want. I don't care. Just know that it was always you, okay? It was always you."
This has gone off far better than expected. "I love you."
"I love you too."
I kiss him again, but it's slower this time. After a moment, I pull back, unable to keep myself from saying, "It is what I want, by the way. To be friends with Amy."
He feigns a groan, leaning his forehead against my shoulder. "Just, no double dates, okay?"
"No promises."
And then we're off to bigger and better things.
