Disclaimer: I do not own The West Wing or anything pertaining to it except my own writing. All the rights go to the rightful owners.
Donna turned her key to Josh's apartment into the lock, calling out as soon as the door was swung open, "Josh! I brought lunch!"
Her boss was on his couch, watching the news like a hawk for updates. "Donnatella, I would like to go outside," he announced to her instead of hello.
"Not happening. I got you turkey on white with peppers and tomato. Eat." She dropped the bag in front of him and went into his kitchen to get a paper plate.
"Seriously, Donna," he said, opening the bag, "I want to go outside."
She breathed out as she dropped down next to him. "No, Josh. If you cooperate maybe I'll let you go outside later, okay? As long as you don't go on about being outdoorsy."
"All I'm sayin' is being stuck indoors really makes you yearn for nature, alright? Fresh air, the trees swaying in the wind…"
She snorted. "Right. And as soon as a guy smoking a cigarette walks by you'll be yelling for me to get you back inside."
"I had a collapsed lung, Donnatella! I don't want a smoker's second-hand… smoke to fill my one unharmed lung!"
Donna waved her hand dismissively. "You've been watching the news channel all day? I left this morning and it was on then too."
Between a bite of sandwich he mumbled, "Donna, if I can't be at the White House, I'm stuck with my phone and television," but because his mouth was full, it came out like, "Donna, iwf uh can be a thuh Why House I'm stuck wi my phone an television."
She looked at him. "I'm not sure if I should leave you alone."
He rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Donnatella." Seeing she didn't believe this, he repeated, more firmly, "I'm fine. You can go back to… whatever it is you were doing before you so generously brought me lunch. I'm good." He leaned back, chewing.
"Josh."
He shook his head. "Nope. See you later, I'm sure."
Donna pouted slightly but stood up. "Fine. Don't choke, don't fall in the bathroom, and don't eat the whole sub. I don't want you to get sick, Josh–"
"Okay, mom," he cut her off cheerily, a sarcastic Josh smile plastered on his lips.
"Be good," she told him mockingly.
"No promises," he said in a sing-song tone.
Donna raised her eyes to the ceiling and headed for the door. "You're welcome for lunch, by the way," she called back. She heard his light laugh and then, "Donnatella!" She looked at him. "Thank you," he said sincerely. She smiled, opening the door.
She'd be back in an hour.