Title: Confessions (1/4).
Author: Jane Morrison (LUCKYJ50@aol.com)
Rating: R
Spoilers: None from the show. It's all J/D.
Summary: Josh and Donna and some late night "confessions".
~~~
~~~Confessions~~~
Chapter 1 - "Night Moves"
I think I tuned her out a long time ago. And ya know I'm not really proud of that. I mean, it's not that I'm not interested in what she's saying. I am. I really, really am. Besides, while I'm not really listening to the *words* she's saying, I'm most definitely listening to her *voice* because I really love the sound of her voice and the way she goes on and on and on without even taking a breath when she's excited about something.
Truth be told, I'm a bit distracted (well, okay, a lot more than a *bit* distracted) by the way her nipples are standing nicely at attention in that skimpy little red dress she's wearing. Have I mentioned how beautiful she looks in that dress? More importantly, you ask, have I mentioned it to *her*? Well, no, I haven't. I promise to remedy that soon, but right now I'm in this champagne and wine induced haze. I'm also having some pretty impure thoughts about her, but I'm guessing you might have figured that out already. Have I had these thoughts before? Well, yes, I have, once or twice. Well, okay, a whole lot more than once or twice. I have those thoughts about her pretty much every time I look at her, and right now I'm having visions of what she looks like under that dress, and I imagine her skin is pale and smooth as silk. I don't think this way about all women. Only Donnatella. My very own Donnatella. I do think of her as mine, you know. But of course she doesn't know this. I really should tell her. But it's all I can think about right now with her looking so beautiful in all her excitement. I swear she's glowing.
God, I love her.
"God, I love you."
_____
He isn't listening to me, which is nothing new. He never listens to me, but still I go on and on. It's been an exciting night and I just want to talk about it. He, on the other hand is sitting in his chair, feet up on his desk, eyes glazed over, a slight smile on his face, obviously in his own little world. So, anyway, I'm rambling on about something, I have no idea what, not that it really matters since he's not listening to me anyway, when I hear the words that make my heart stop.
"God, I love you."
At least that's what I *think* he says. It comes out in the slightest whisper, so I'm not really sure that's what he's said, but it sure sounds like it. I stop talking, my mouth open in mid-sentence. Oh, God, how to respond. Do I let him know I heard him, or just ignore it? I finally decide to on the latter. I have to call his name a few times to get a response, even though he's looking right at me.
"Josh? Joshua?"
He finally speaks as if he's just come out of a coma. "Yea?"
"So, I had sex with this really cute guy at lunch."
"Uh huh"
"God, it was so amazing. You wouldn't believe the things he did to me. I mean, really, Josh, the things he did!!!"
He nods his head. I swear he's looking right at me, but he certainly doesn't comprehend what I'm saying. "Uh huh."
"Joshua, are you drunk?"
He runs both hands through his hair. "I'm sorry?"
"Are you drunk? I think you're drunk."
He nods. "Yea, maybe just a little."
"Have you even heard a word I've said?"
He smiles that slow, seductive smile of his. The one that still gets to me every time he does it.
"Every word."
"Liar."
"I am not lying."
I fold my arms over my chest. "Prove it. Tell me what I said. Every word."
"Ummmm...something about the President being reelected?"
"Lucky guess. What else?" I act annoyed. I'm not really.
"Okay, I'll admit I kinda lost you a while back. It's all that wine and champagne. Makes my head a little fuzzy. Don't take it personally."
"So why did you let me keep talking?"
"Truthfully?"
"Please"
"Because I love the sound of your voice. I could listen to you talk for hours, Donna. It doesn't much matter what you're saying either."
Under my breath, I say, "Likewise." Because I could, even when he's infuriating me, which he often is.
"What?" he asks.
"What, what?"
"What did you say?"
"Nothing. It was nothing."
He sighs deeply, never taking his eyes off mine. The way he's looking at me is making me nervous, very nervous, especially in light of the fact that I *think* he just told me a few minutes ago that he loves me. I think I need to get out of here. Fast.
"Um, Josh. I need to go home and get some sleep. I mean..." I glance at my watch. "I have to be back here in about four hours."
"So stay here and sleep. I am"
"Josh. You aren't."
"I am. Why go home? Morning will be here before we know it. I'm camping out on the couch. Wanna join me?"
"Joshua!"
I feign shock, but the thought of Josh and me on the couch is something I've had plenty of schoolgirl (okay, NOT so schoolgirl) fantasies about. It's tempting. Really, really tempting. And the thing is, I'd be happy just to lie there with his arms around me all night. See, with Josh, it isn't just physical attraction (which he knows nothing about, by the way). It's a lot more than that. Oh, yea, a *lot* more. I really want to stay. But he's drunk and I know I have to go before something happens that we both might regret in the cold light of day.
He shrugs. "Well, it was a thought. Considering we both have to work in four hours. I'm just saying..."
"I really need to...um... go. You know."
"Yea. Okay. Suit yourself." He gets up and circles the desk and makes his way to the couch, slumping down and resting his hands behind his head. That smile again. Like he has this big secret. He thinks he's gotten away with it. He's killing me. He really is.
"I'm going then."
"Okay. Be careful going home. I'll see you in a few hours."
I nod and gather my things, make my way to the door. I get half way down the hall and realize my keys are on his desk. I go back to retrieve them.
His eyes are sparkling and he looks hopeful. "Back so soon?"
I pick up my keys and hold them up for him to see. "Keys."
"Yea. Whatever."
"I'm *really* going now."
"You're sure? 'Cause I'd swear you keep finding excuses to stay. Oh, and just in case I forgot to tell you, you look beautiful in that dress, Donna. Really, really beautiful."
My face flames, probably as red as my dress, the one I bought for him. But of course he doesn't know this. "Oh. Josh. Thank you. Really, thank you. I um...
He smiles, "I know, you're *really* going now."
And I do start to leave, but I stop in the doorway and wait a long minute before speaking. My heart is pounding. I need to know for sure. I don't look at him when I speak. I can't.
"Joshua."
"Donnatella." Oh, God if he ever wants to reduce me to mush all he has to do is call me Donnatella in that low, conspiratorial voice of his. I wonder if he knows that, because he always chooses just the right moment to say it.
"I just wanted you to know, I, um, I heard you, you know...before." Jesus. Talk about schoolgirls. I'm not usually so tongue-tied.
I finally look at him because he doesn't say anything for a really long time. And I see that smile again, only there's something different in his expression. Something deeper, something unspoken. Finally he stops smiling and looks very serious when he says, "Yea. I know."
I take a deep breath. "Okay, just so we're clear on that."
"Yea. We're clear."
"Okay. Goodnight then."
He closes his eyes. "G'night."
I start to leave again, and I get all the way to the exit when I decide to go back. He's right. I don't want to leave, at least not until I've told him how I feel, too. I'm no longer worried about how we'll feel in the morning. I stop in the doorway and look over at him and laugh softly. He's sound asleep, and I must say, looking quite endearing in that sleep. I go to him and lean over him, kiss him lightly on the cheek and whisper, "I love you, too, Joshua Lyman." I stand and look at him for the longest time before I head once more for the door.
I swear I hear him whisper, "I know" in his sleep as I'm leaving.
Author: Jane Morrison (LUCKYJ50@aol.com)
Rating: R
Spoilers: None from the show. It's all J/D.
Summary: Josh and Donna and some late night "confessions".
~~~
~~~Confessions~~~
Chapter 1 - "Night Moves"
I think I tuned her out a long time ago. And ya know I'm not really proud of that. I mean, it's not that I'm not interested in what she's saying. I am. I really, really am. Besides, while I'm not really listening to the *words* she's saying, I'm most definitely listening to her *voice* because I really love the sound of her voice and the way she goes on and on and on without even taking a breath when she's excited about something.
Truth be told, I'm a bit distracted (well, okay, a lot more than a *bit* distracted) by the way her nipples are standing nicely at attention in that skimpy little red dress she's wearing. Have I mentioned how beautiful she looks in that dress? More importantly, you ask, have I mentioned it to *her*? Well, no, I haven't. I promise to remedy that soon, but right now I'm in this champagne and wine induced haze. I'm also having some pretty impure thoughts about her, but I'm guessing you might have figured that out already. Have I had these thoughts before? Well, yes, I have, once or twice. Well, okay, a whole lot more than once or twice. I have those thoughts about her pretty much every time I look at her, and right now I'm having visions of what she looks like under that dress, and I imagine her skin is pale and smooth as silk. I don't think this way about all women. Only Donnatella. My very own Donnatella. I do think of her as mine, you know. But of course she doesn't know this. I really should tell her. But it's all I can think about right now with her looking so beautiful in all her excitement. I swear she's glowing.
God, I love her.
"God, I love you."
_____
He isn't listening to me, which is nothing new. He never listens to me, but still I go on and on. It's been an exciting night and I just want to talk about it. He, on the other hand is sitting in his chair, feet up on his desk, eyes glazed over, a slight smile on his face, obviously in his own little world. So, anyway, I'm rambling on about something, I have no idea what, not that it really matters since he's not listening to me anyway, when I hear the words that make my heart stop.
"God, I love you."
At least that's what I *think* he says. It comes out in the slightest whisper, so I'm not really sure that's what he's said, but it sure sounds like it. I stop talking, my mouth open in mid-sentence. Oh, God, how to respond. Do I let him know I heard him, or just ignore it? I finally decide to on the latter. I have to call his name a few times to get a response, even though he's looking right at me.
"Josh? Joshua?"
He finally speaks as if he's just come out of a coma. "Yea?"
"So, I had sex with this really cute guy at lunch."
"Uh huh"
"God, it was so amazing. You wouldn't believe the things he did to me. I mean, really, Josh, the things he did!!!"
He nods his head. I swear he's looking right at me, but he certainly doesn't comprehend what I'm saying. "Uh huh."
"Joshua, are you drunk?"
He runs both hands through his hair. "I'm sorry?"
"Are you drunk? I think you're drunk."
He nods. "Yea, maybe just a little."
"Have you even heard a word I've said?"
He smiles that slow, seductive smile of his. The one that still gets to me every time he does it.
"Every word."
"Liar."
"I am not lying."
I fold my arms over my chest. "Prove it. Tell me what I said. Every word."
"Ummmm...something about the President being reelected?"
"Lucky guess. What else?" I act annoyed. I'm not really.
"Okay, I'll admit I kinda lost you a while back. It's all that wine and champagne. Makes my head a little fuzzy. Don't take it personally."
"So why did you let me keep talking?"
"Truthfully?"
"Please"
"Because I love the sound of your voice. I could listen to you talk for hours, Donna. It doesn't much matter what you're saying either."
Under my breath, I say, "Likewise." Because I could, even when he's infuriating me, which he often is.
"What?" he asks.
"What, what?"
"What did you say?"
"Nothing. It was nothing."
He sighs deeply, never taking his eyes off mine. The way he's looking at me is making me nervous, very nervous, especially in light of the fact that I *think* he just told me a few minutes ago that he loves me. I think I need to get out of here. Fast.
"Um, Josh. I need to go home and get some sleep. I mean..." I glance at my watch. "I have to be back here in about four hours."
"So stay here and sleep. I am"
"Josh. You aren't."
"I am. Why go home? Morning will be here before we know it. I'm camping out on the couch. Wanna join me?"
"Joshua!"
I feign shock, but the thought of Josh and me on the couch is something I've had plenty of schoolgirl (okay, NOT so schoolgirl) fantasies about. It's tempting. Really, really tempting. And the thing is, I'd be happy just to lie there with his arms around me all night. See, with Josh, it isn't just physical attraction (which he knows nothing about, by the way). It's a lot more than that. Oh, yea, a *lot* more. I really want to stay. But he's drunk and I know I have to go before something happens that we both might regret in the cold light of day.
He shrugs. "Well, it was a thought. Considering we both have to work in four hours. I'm just saying..."
"I really need to...um... go. You know."
"Yea. Okay. Suit yourself." He gets up and circles the desk and makes his way to the couch, slumping down and resting his hands behind his head. That smile again. Like he has this big secret. He thinks he's gotten away with it. He's killing me. He really is.
"I'm going then."
"Okay. Be careful going home. I'll see you in a few hours."
I nod and gather my things, make my way to the door. I get half way down the hall and realize my keys are on his desk. I go back to retrieve them.
His eyes are sparkling and he looks hopeful. "Back so soon?"
I pick up my keys and hold them up for him to see. "Keys."
"Yea. Whatever."
"I'm *really* going now."
"You're sure? 'Cause I'd swear you keep finding excuses to stay. Oh, and just in case I forgot to tell you, you look beautiful in that dress, Donna. Really, really beautiful."
My face flames, probably as red as my dress, the one I bought for him. But of course he doesn't know this. "Oh. Josh. Thank you. Really, thank you. I um...
He smiles, "I know, you're *really* going now."
And I do start to leave, but I stop in the doorway and wait a long minute before speaking. My heart is pounding. I need to know for sure. I don't look at him when I speak. I can't.
"Joshua."
"Donnatella." Oh, God if he ever wants to reduce me to mush all he has to do is call me Donnatella in that low, conspiratorial voice of his. I wonder if he knows that, because he always chooses just the right moment to say it.
"I just wanted you to know, I, um, I heard you, you know...before." Jesus. Talk about schoolgirls. I'm not usually so tongue-tied.
I finally look at him because he doesn't say anything for a really long time. And I see that smile again, only there's something different in his expression. Something deeper, something unspoken. Finally he stops smiling and looks very serious when he says, "Yea. I know."
I take a deep breath. "Okay, just so we're clear on that."
"Yea. We're clear."
"Okay. Goodnight then."
He closes his eyes. "G'night."
I start to leave again, and I get all the way to the exit when I decide to go back. He's right. I don't want to leave, at least not until I've told him how I feel, too. I'm no longer worried about how we'll feel in the morning. I stop in the doorway and look over at him and laugh softly. He's sound asleep, and I must say, looking quite endearing in that sleep. I go to him and lean over him, kiss him lightly on the cheek and whisper, "I love you, too, Joshua Lyman." I stand and look at him for the longest time before I head once more for the door.
I swear I hear him whisper, "I know" in his sleep as I'm leaving.