Disclaimer: I'm only borrowing the characters off the West Wing. I'll put them back when I'm done playing, I promise.
Summary: Josh's musings on the females in his life. Donna centred. It might eventually become a J/D pairing.
Spoilers: Gaza.
Author's notes: 1. Not actually sure how long this will be, this has just started festering in today. If I get reviews I may write a little more. This first bit is like an inner monologue.
2. ""= Dialogue, ''= thoughts
3. COS= change of scenery.
Title: White house women
Author: Angel's babe
Rating: PG-13
I doubt many outsiders know this, but women in the Bartlett White House are very powerful. No, I don't just mean the First Lady, or Zoe, or Ellie, although they are powerful simply because the President turns to mush around them. I mean Margaret, Nancy, Ginger, Debbie, and most importantly (to me anyway) Donna. These women do much more than hand us coffee, write memos for us, and take our phone calls for us They keep us sane, tell us off when we need it. And trust me when I say I need it more than Toby, Leo CJ, and Charlie put together.
She was always willing to do that. Always willing to tell me when I was wrong, or totally blew up at somebody- in that case she would make me apologize. She knew my moods, knew when I needed someone to talk to, or something to laugh at. And now she's lying here, in a hospital bed, and I'm sitting here, wishing and hoping that she'll open her eyes so that I can tell her how much she means to me.
I remember our first Christmas in office together. She was on a skiing kick. I still don't know if she actually has taken any lessons and knows how to ski or not. Anyway, she gave me this two-page long list of ski-related equipment poles, boots, actual skis, goggles, and told me to pick one or two things from it. I ended up going shopping with President Bartlett to an old book store. I bought her this book about alpine skiing, and wrote a little note to her. When I gave it to her she threw her arms around me and hugged me. That wasn't why I gave it to her though- why I really gave it to her was what came afterwards, I went back towards my office and leaned against the doorway. I watched her face change, as a smile lit up her entire face as reread the inscription. And in that moment I realized what Christmas was all about.
Then there came Roslyn, they tell me she never left my bedside. She was the one that took me to the hospital when I cut my hands. She has always been a support system for me, not an assistant. I owe her my life, and so here I am- blind devotion for blind devotion I guess.
After that, came the President's revelation that he had M.S. I took it hard, but Donna, she was so resilient. She didn't show much shock either, but rather genuine concern for him, while the rest of us were still in total shock, and dealing with the ramifications.
And now our friendship faces this. She had been complaining to me for months, that she was ready for more challenges. I shrugged her off for a while, but eventually I listened. I responded by sending her on the mission with Fitz Wallace to Gaza. The more logical side of my brain says that I had nothing do with this. How could I know that some maniac would blow up a Suburban? I couldn't, nobody could. It was just chance they were on that road that day, just chance that she was in it. But then, the other side- the guilt-ridden side of my mind starts with the 'if onlys': If only I had another task for her, if only I had shrugged her off that one last time...
But in the end I usually give into the logical side, I realize I can't predict these things. I'm here now, and I didn't stop for red lights either. We've been through a lot, and we'll make it through this.
Authors note:
This is my first story with a first-person narration. Please review and let me know how I did.
Up next: maybe an appearance by the First Lady.
Happy reading.