Author's Note: Today's Tumblr prompt is from Anonymous, who asked "What if Donna's alcohol tolerance is really sturdy, and Josh discovers - much to his mortification - that his tiny assistant can drink him under the table?" Seems like a perfect humorous counterbalance to yesterday's much sadder story. Keep sending prompts, it's still three weeks to the election! (And if you're in the US, check out your early voting laws and make sure to vote as soon as possible! Don't wait till the last minute if you don't have to!)
Feedback is welcome and beloved and appreciated, and it keeps me going on this reckless quest I have embarked upon!
…...
The bar was unprepossessing at best, a little hole-in-the-wall attached to a Ramada Inn in central Illinois, cheek by jowl with an equally unprepossessing little diner that at least smelled like good hash browns. But it was attached to the hotel and it had alcohol, and for the moment that was all the hardy pioneers of the Bartlet for America wagon train required. CJ had come down early to scope the place out, deemed it just fit for human habitation, and staked out the largest table. By the time Sam and Toby made it down, she'd fended off two clumsy passes and briefly considered one smoother one, and nearly finished her first vodka tonic.
"Don't you know drinking alone in the daytime is the first sign of an alcohol problem?" Toby asked as he slid into the booth next to her with a squat glass of bourbon.
"You'd be the one to know, Tobiathan, but in case it escaped your attention, it's after seven already. A very respectable drinking hour." She picked up her glass and tossed back the rest of its contents, just to show him.
"Tobiathan?" Toby asked, brow raised. Sam took a seat next to Toby and snickered.
"I'm trying something new," she told them loftily. "Nicknames increase team unity."
"And to think we pay you to speak to the American people." Toby shook his head.
"If it makes you feel any better, you pay me almost nothing," she retorted.
"Little bit," he acknowledged.
Sam laughed again. He was finally starting to appreciate Toby's acerbic humor, which made life easier for everyone. "Where's Josh?" he asked, picking up his own beer.
"He was still at the college last I saw him," CJ offered. "He'd gotten into an argument with four or five undergrads over farm subsidies or Middle East politics or possibly some of both. But somebody," and she glared at Sam, "made the mistake of telling the Governor how Lincoln climbed out the window of Old Main to debate Douglas because the doors were blocked shut, and we were about thirty seconds from a very embarrassing photo op. We had to go."
"It's a great story!" Sam defended himself. "And I think we could do worse for a photo op, easily. The Lincoln-Douglas debates are iconic in Illinois, which is the state we're currently busting our asses to win. Emulating Lincoln isn't the worst idea in the world."
"Lincoln climbed out the window onto a stage," CJ pointed out, "a stage that wasn't there today. Could've been awkward, him just sort of jumping out a first-floor window."
"Especially if he got stuck," Toby added with a grin.
CJ groaned and slid out around the other side of the round booth. "I need another drink."
As it turned out, she finished her second drink and switched to beer before Josh came swaggering in with his pretty young assistant at his heels. They were arguing, as usual, with the kind of sublimated sexual tension typically reserved for screwball comedies of the 1930s. CJ figured that as long as they kept arguing she was all right, it probably meant that nothing salacious was happening. "Josh! Donna!" she called, waving them over. As they got closer, CJ noted that Josh's swagger had more than a little stumble in it, and Donna's grip on his arm was a bit tighter than it looked.
"What's going on, gang?" Josh asked cheerfully. "Didn't you even notice you left us behind? We had to throw ourselves on the mercy of the college students. Donna almost got three or four dates, but I shut them down pretty fast. She has terrible taste, you know," he whispered very loudly. Donna smacked him lightly on the shoulder. "Ow!"
CJ looked at Donna. "What the hell happened?"
"We got into a discussion with some of the poli-sci students and they invited us over to one of their houses for drinks and conversation." She shook her head, looking a little baffled. "I could've sworn he only had a couple beers and a shot."
"A big shot," Josh added. "It was a challenge, I had to do it. We were listing off all the amendments to the Constitution, and I forgot the nineteenth."
"That's kind of an important one, Josh," CJ said indignantly.
"I mixed it up with the twenty-fourth!" he whined. "I didn't forget it entirely."
Sam was obviously counting off amendments in his head. "You forgot that women didn't just start voting in the 1960s?"
"Saaaaam!" Josh complained, "you're supposed to be on my side here! Why's everybody heckling me all of a sudden?"
"He wasn't like this at the thing, was he?" CJ asked Donna.
"No, he was okay," Donna assured her. "He started really feeling it while we were walking back. I almost called a cab, but I don't think there are any. I didn't realize he had such a delicate system."
"I could drink you under the table, Donnatella Moss! Just because you stand there all nursing your beers..." Josh grumbled.
"I forgot three amendments," Donna admitted with a laugh. "Then I just sort of gave up. What?" she asked when he goggled at her. "They were Fireball shots, it wasn't like I was going to get drunk off three of them. Unlike, apparently, some people." Donna, CJ noted, wasn't even swaying as she stood with one arm still hooked under Josh's elbow.
"No wonder they were asking you out," Toby observed. By now he and Sam were just openly laughing. "Sit down before Josh falls down and I'll buy you a real drink."
"She doesn't need you buying her drinks, Toby, if anybody's going to buy her a drink I'm going to buy her a drink but she doesn't need to be drinking any more because she's obviously drunk," Josh muttered as Donna poured him into the booth and slid in next to him.
Toby nudged Sam out of the other side of the booth and stood up. "What's your drink, Donna? Please don't tell me you drink Fireball shots by choice."
She smiled sweetly at him. Josh glowered. "Rusty nail, please. And a big glass of water for my friend here." Toby snorted and headed for the bar.
"I want a rematch!" Josh announced suddenly, turning his glare on Donna.
"You're still going to know more amendments than me," Donna pointed out. "I need to practice."
"Damn right you need to practice if you're going to work in the White House," Josh insisted, completely missing Donna's quick look of surprised gratification. "I mean about the shots. There is no way you can be less drunk than me right now. There was something fishy going on with the way those shots were measured out."
CJ put her tongue in her cheek. "Unless they measured out your shot in a water glass, my friend..."
"Shh! I'm working this out!" Josh told CJ with a frown. "Now it can't be tonight because we're already on even footing. And it can't be tomorrow or the next day because we're going to be up to our ass in the Chicago leg of the trip, and then there's the primary. After the Illinois primary," he announced to all and sundry, "Donna and I will go head to head and we will prove who has the greater constitution for alcohol, and the greatest knowledge of the Constitution."
"I'll give you constitutional knowledge, considering you went to law school for three years," Donna offered magnanimously. "But this is a terrible idea."
"You're not chicken, are you?" Josh asked, the light of challenge in his eyes now. "Got a little of the cluck in you?" Sam dropped his head to the table, laughing helplessly.
"Never engage with a chicken, Donna," CJ advised. "It won't ever end well." Josh countered this with another series of clucks, nearly spilling the plastic tumbler of water that Toby put in front of him.
"Thanks, Toby." Donna accepted her drink and sipped it, then turned to regard Josh. "Okay fine, but if I win, I want a raise."
"I can't give you a raise. You have to get Leo drunk for that." Josh grinned when she sputtered. "But I'll let you pick our seats on the bus for the rest of the campaign."
"Or the plane," she added shrewdly.
"Fine, or the plane," he acquiesced with a sigh that said he'd been feeling clever. "But if I win, you have to put on a short skirt-"
"Joshua..." CJ interjected warningly.
"A medium-length skirt and show us that cheerleader routine you told me about the other day. What was that all about, Purgolder Pride?" Josh was grinning again now, certain of his advantage. "What the hell is a Purgolder anyway?"
"It's a mythical cat, very noble, and extremely good at basketball, obviously," Donna told him with a glare. "And that's a very sexist bet, but I will make it with you because there is no way I'm going to lose, and I'm going to laugh that much harder at the atrocious hangover you're going to have afterwards."
"Deal." They shook on it.
CJ shook her head. "You are both children."
"Yeah, but you're still going to come watch, right?" Donna asked daringly. She had no trouble giving Josh hell, or Sam most of the time, but she usually found CJ and Toby a little bit intimidating.
"Bet your ass," CJ grinned at her.
"Then it's settled!" Josh automatically took a drink of water when Donna nudged the cup towards him. "After we win Illinois, we will drink from the keg of glory, and see who's the last man standing. And it will be me."
"Whatever you say," Donna replied indulgently, sipping her scotch.
…...
Author's Second Note: Yes, there is absolutely going to be a second chapter to this. Keep an eye out. :D
Cameo school appearances in this fic are Knox College in Galesburg Illinois, site of one of the Lincoln-Douglas debates and all-around lovely little campus, as well as Madison East High School, home of the Purgolders and alma mater to Bradley Whitford, class of '77. Couldn't resist.