THE SANTOS FOR A BRIGHTER AMERICA CAMPAIGN 2006
The bed is warmer than it should be. That's the first thing I notice. Then I notice a leg that's certainly not mine wrapped around my waist. Then I feel the pin pricks in my arm that suggests its fallen asleep from the weight of another human on it. The final clue that Donnatella Moss is in my bed, wrapped around me, is the smell of her lavender shampoo and the vaguely fruity, sweet smell that I've never been able to assign to anything specific other than Donnatella herself.
And then I remember last night.
I remember her coming in to the war room, looking exhausted, looking for something to do. I remember being frustrated that she wasn't taking care of herself, trying to get her to understand that there wasn't anything more for her to do and she should get some rest. Not that I could say any of that. So I probably just seemed like a jerk.
I remember seeing her through the keyhole twenty minutes after I stormed out of the war room, exasperated by my inability to communicate with her anymore, hurt by my inability to look her in the eyes these days. Then she showed up on my doorstep with papers and I thought for the first time in my life, why can't these poll numbers wait til tomorrow!? Then I opened the door to her. Her eyes were brighter than they had been when I had last seen her. It made my heart ache for the days when her eyes never seemed to lose that sparkle.
I know I was a jerk when she wanted to talk but I didn't think I was ready to forgive her, I wasn't ready to face her. When she revealed that she wanted to do the thirty six questions, there was a part of me that screamed hell no. But there was a larger part of me that wouldn't bear to turn her down. She'd said if we can't do this then that would be it for us. That she'd give up on us, that she wouldn't keep doing this pseudo working dysfunctional relationship. Maybe those weren't her exact words but I can read between the lines.
She doesn't move but I can sense that she's awake now. I don't know whether to pretend to be asleep so that we don't have to face the fact that we're cuddling a la better times of Josh and Donna. However, knowing Donna, she knows I'm awake- in the same way I knew she was. I'm not sure what to say. I don't think she does either. But neither of us want to move from the other's warmth. It's been a while since I've felt this. I don't want it to slip away with the morning.
Then I get an idea. I reach over and grab the papers with the questions. I can feel Donna smile against my chest. She must have nervous about what I'd say too.
"If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?" My voice is a little groggy and I'm sure my breath isn't all sunshine and daisies but I miss talking to Donna. Even when I was frustrated last night, there were pieces of me that were finally soothed from being able to talk to her again, to make her laugh or make her mad or make her go off on a tangent. The cadence of her voice- the kind that she slipped into when it's just the two of us- was healing.
"I think I'd wanna know what happens next, ya know? Like the next chapter. Does that make sense?" Her voice is quiet in the morning. Not that she needs to be any louder given our proximity.
"It makes sense but it's vague." I shrugged. I wasn't going to push her too hard on it. I'd rather not start the day arguing.
"Okay…" I can hear the cogs turning in her brain, figuring out how to word whatever it was she wanted to convey. "I guess I want to know if I'm fated to be the spinster aunt. Whether I'll have a family of my own one day."
I sat in the quiet of our hotel room, thinking up a response. I was distracted by the vision of Donna holding and smiling at a light-haired swaddled baby in her arms. My chest felt light at the first thought. But then some unnamed man came into the vision next to her and my heart grew heavy. I want Donna to have that happiness. I know she loves kids. I know she loves being an aunt. I don't know why I haven't thought about her being a mother before. Maybe I just wasn't ready to think about it. I'm not sure if I'm ready to face it yet either.
"You will." I reply in a low volume. She hugs me tighter for that. I'm glad I seemed to have said the right thing. I wonder if she could hear the sadness in my voice.
"What about you? What would you wanna know?" Donna asks me, getting us back on more emotionally even ground.
"Easy. I wanna know if Santos will win reelection." I know it sounds like a joke but it's true. Furthermore, it's strategic. If I find out if he wins reelection, then I'd know that won this election. Two for the price of one.
"Of course." Donna chuckles at me. She sits up at this point, against the headboard, so she can read the next question. "Is there something that you've dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?"
"I want to buy back our home in Connecticut. I haven't because there's not really a point right now. It seems silly to have a condo and a home, especially one I'd never be at. It's not like I I'm home much as is in D.C."
"It's still a lovely idea." Donna smiles at me. I shrug. "Don't you dare say I'm predictable but I want to go to Hawaii." I hold on my laugh for that one. Of course. "And for obvious reasons I haven't been able to. And I'd think it'd be lonely to go to Hawaii all alone."
"I thought I was supposed to take you?" I joked, poking her shoulder. She smiled down at me.
"Well… Since you've offered." She tosses back.
"I make no promises." I reply. In my head, I do promise though. I'm going to take Donna to Hawaii one day. As long as we can fix our relationship- and in this morning that feels well within the realm of possibility. Things feel good, like before. "What is the greatest accomplishment of your life?" I ask.
"Spokesperson for the Santos Campaign, duh." This makes me grin. Last night before we got into the questions I might've thought that was a remark on my reluctance to hire her. But right now, without the haze of bitterness and insecurity, I can recognize it for what it is- Donna being proud of herself for how far she's come.
"Right now It's winning the primary with a dark horse candidate. Hopefully that answer will change come November 5th… Duh." I add at the end, making fun of her a little.
"You do have a lot to be proud of with that primary win." Donna replies.
"Yeah, you and Will didn't make it easy for me." I shrugged. It's the truth. They both made my life a particular kind of hell. "What do you value most in a friendship?" My stomach turns at this one. I know what my answer is. And I'm worried it might make this Switzerland situation we have right now go awry.
"Availability… emotionally as well as just physically there." I didn't realize her answer would feel pointed too. We both know I'm not the most emotionally mature person- especially when it comes to the two of us. And lately, we haven't spent quality time with each other. We can hardly work in the same room now. I can't help the sigh that escapes me. "What?" I recognize the defensiveness in her tone.
"It's nothing."
"It's not nothing, Josh."
"It's nothing- I just… we were having a nice morning."
"We still are?" Her defensive tone is evidence enough to prove her own statement wrong. I look at the clock to avoid this conversation for a second longer but it scares any remnants of calm out of me.
"Shit! It's already seven! Donna, we have to get ready." I jump out of bed. She crosses her arms across her chest.
"You're running away from this at the first note of disagreement? We disagreed plenty last night!" Donna was clearly annoyed with me, mistaking my urgency to get out of bed as avoidance. I roll my eyes, annoyed right back at her, and start busying myself getting ready. It's easier to be annoyed with her if I don't have to look at her.
"Donna, it's seven! The Congressman has a breakfast at 8 and I have to prep him and I have to meet with Lou about our Daily Show appearance tonight and I need to know the results of that poll!" I list off as I pull my shirt off and my pants on. I briefly wonder if I should be this comfortable about getting dressed in front of Donna. In my rush, my instincts are kicking in and my instincts don't particularly care if Donna sees me in just my underwear. It's nothing she hasn't seen before.
"You're acting like it's 7:59 when it's only 7:01! This is very typical of you, Josh." Her condescending tone passes through my like match.
"Again! With the goddamn predictability! If you know my every move already, why do you bother playing!?" I don't care that my voice is raised. She's out of bed now and I'm frustrated enough that I don't have the inclination to ogle her legs.
"Because sometimes you can surprise me. Because sometimes you can actually act like an adult man. You think I like being this person? You think I like nagging you?"
"Never seemed to bother you before." I snapped. I regretted it instantly.
"You're such an ass!" Donna yells at me when she finds her voice in her anger.
"I didn't mean it, okay?" I say testily. It's a weak attempt at an apology.
"Oh, yes. Yes, you did. Jesus, I woke up on top of you and you still think of me as your mother."
"I do not have time to explain just how wrong that statement is!" I snap back, trying to focus on buttoning my shirt. "I'm sorry I don't have time to play the question game right now. I have an actual job to do, you know." Shit. Okay. I didn't mean it how I can plainly see she's taking it.
"Oh? Because dealing with the press isn't a real job? You wanna try running this campaign without reporters on your side? Because trust me! If they had to deal with your sunny disposition, Seth Gilette would have a better chance than Santos!"
She's not wrong.
"That's not what I meant! I just- I have to go okay?!" I finish tying my tie. "We can do finish this set… later."
"Fine." She says quietly which is worse than her yelling. She looks for her clothes and starts pulling on her pants from last night. God, what if someone sees her coming out of my room in the clothes from the day before? I look at the ceiling, feeling all sorts of anxiety. Then I feel her hands on my shoulders. I'm not ready to look down just yet.
"We were having a nice morning, weren't we though?"
"Yeah." The lump in my throat is audible. I'm a bit emotional thinking about those first quiet moments, as my brain realized the scent of Donna and the feel of Donna and the movement of Donna. With that thought, I bring my forehead down to hers. Her ocean blue eyes stare into mine and leaves me feeling exposed but warm all the same.
"Thanks for doing this though." She whispers.
"Thanks for having the idea. And for dealing with me." I whisper back.
A knock at the door tears us apart.
"Yeah?" I call out, cursing whoever broke the moment even though I knew it needed to be.
"The Congressman is asking where you are." Ronna's voice comes through the door. Ah, politics- it waits for no romantic.
"Yeah, I'll be down in a minute. Tell Edie to have the polls ready for me too."
It's quiet for a minute as Ronna walks away and Donna and I readjust.
"I'm going to head down. Feel free to ya know, use the shower or whatever." I feel awkward, like it's the end of some kind of one night stand.
"I'll use mine. It has my stuff. You head out though. I'll be down in a little while."
"Ahkay." For all my urgency a few minutes ago, I feel none of it now. I want to stay in this room, in this bubble where Donna and I are on speaking terms. Where I don't feel cold in her presence. When I refocus my gaze on Donna, I see her expression change, making a decision, just in time.
Donna kisses me. For, maybe, three seconds. When she pulls apart, I think my eyes are the size of her fists. The next thing I know she's pushing me out the door.
"Okay. See you tonight. Well, probably before. I'm the one briefing you on The Daily Show appearance. Anyways." The door is open and Donna stands behind it, out of sight. I narrow my eyes at her, trying to figure her out. Damn, I wish I could her mind. In lieu of that possibility, I make a split second decision. I plant one on her lips right back.
"Bye." I'm grinning as I stride out of the room. I make it about four steps outside in the hallway before my grin drops and my shoulders clench at this morning's implications. I spend the elevator ride switching into work mode though.
Whatever, I tell myself, Donna and I have always been complicated. What's a few more knots in our tangled mess?
THE BARTLET FOR AMERICA CAMPAIGN 1998
Donna, Donna, Donna. My brain chants as I come into consciousness. My head hurts from alcohol and my body feels worn out from… Donna. Oh my god. It all comes rushing back to me. The questions. The intimacy. Telling her about Joanie. Her telling me she's tuned to me. Us attacking each other's bodies with a voraciousness that the moment required.
I should stop thinking about that. I should try to keep it down before Donna wakes up thinking I'm a perv. Or would she want to go at it again? Would she ask more questions?
Yes, we kept up the questions as we did it. Both times.
I don't think I'll soon forget her attempting to name three things we had in common as I went down on her. Good lord. Incredible. Donna, Donna, Donna. My brain seems caught up in this melody of her name thrice.
She kisses my chest when she wakes up. We're at it again, this time slow and lazy and even more intimate than before. We hold each other's faces as we lay after. I feel her reach for the questions and I can't help but laugh.
"Oh. You never answered what you value most in a friendship." She says, sitting up. As she does, the sheet slips and my brain goes to putty. When I don't respond, she looks down. Seeing my gaze, she pulls up the sheet and gives me a playful but withering glare indicating that I should focus. I sigh as my two new best friends are hidden under the sheet.
"Uh, loyalty. I can't be close with someone I can't trust. Loyalty is the key to that." I give my honest answer.
"I'm not going to abandon you again, you know that right?" I know she's referring to her leaving for those few weeks for Freeride. Oddly I feel pretty secure in that she won't leave me. The Donna that I've come to know is someone I can trust implicitly.
"Nor I, you." I sit up to look her in the eyes at this. The soft smile this earns me is worth the vulnerability. She places her head on my shoulder and waits for me to ask the next question. "What is your most treasured memory?"
AN hi hi thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed this- I'm sorry it's taken so long I've been busy trying to get my life in order and actually watching shows that aren't the West Wing believe it or not! But I really wanna finish this fic! So this is part I of the second set of questions. I'm hoping to get part II up this week- I'm thinking I will be able to because It'll give me an excuse to avoid my family during this trip. The best cure to writer's block!
Also those of you who supported me in my rage against my teacher THANK YOU I treasure you (and everyone else who reviewed)
Pretty please leave a review! I love hearing from you all!
xx ghostlyandcoastly