Never Gather Rosebuds After Dark
By: The Writer
Category: Josh/Donna
Rating: PG
"If It Ain't Broke Don't Name It"
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It was sometime after the meeting in which I gave instructions to several nameless interns. I hadn't been able to concentrate on anything all day. I think I told one girl to compile a paper on "the most successful courting rituals through-out the world", but I'm not sure.
So, it didn't come as much of a surprise when I found myself wandering through a hallway with C.J. on my left and Sam on my right, both yelling at me. Sam was yelling, "So, what happened?"
I blinked back to reality and moaned, "I gave her flowers…"
"I'm impressed, Josh," said C.J. "That sounds pretty romantic to me."
"They were brown."
Sam laughed and replied sarcastically, "Nice job."
I sighed and rubbed my forehead. "I didn't mean to… I believe the fault really lies more with the florist than with me—
"Please don't say you thought the flowers could live in the plastic-wrappings," said C.J. I am still debating her psychic abilities.
"I…well…"
"So, you need something to make up for it?" asked Sam. Go team!
I stretched my arms. "I was thinking dinner…"
"Go Italian," Sam advised. "Girls dig the garlic sticks and violin music." He winked.
C.J. rolled her eyes. "We dig it? Grow up! Spaghetti is the worst date food! The only thing a guy ever got from me after an Italian dinner was a dry cleaning bill to get the sauce stains out of my clothes."
I looked from Sam to C.J., debating whose advice I should trust. I turned to C.J. "So, what would you suggest?"
Sam muttered, "Traitor."
C.J.'s eyes got this kinda faraway look. It was a little scary because she only spoke one word at a time; "French," pause, "wine," pause, "nighttime…"
"Uh…okay. Hey, Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"Where exactly are we going?" If you remember, I had been in a daze for the past few hours and was not quite sure how I even ended up walking down this particular hallway.
Sam gave me this weird look. (I seemed to be getting a lot of those.) "We're going to discuss nuclear waste management with Troy Johnson. You do have your stuff, right?"
Well…um…kinda didn't remember that, no. I turned around and ran off as fast as a rocket. (At least, I like to think so.) I then proceeded to run down approximately half a dozen women carrying assorted items from donuts to (quite possibly very) important papers.
The funny thing is, even though I didn't recognize a one of them, they all seemed to know who I was and yelled things such as, "Watch out, Josh!" "Aren't there laws against running in the hallway of a government building, Mr. Lyman?" and (my personal favorite) "You drop the donut, you eat the donut!" (Too bad I didn't have time to take anyone up on that offer.)
As I was running past Donna's desk I saw this blur of brown out of the corner of my eye. I stopped dead in my tracks and took three slow steps backwards. One…two…three… There, on the corner of my assistant's desk, sat a vase, filled with water, and containing the flowers I gave her.
Now, just incase you weren't really listening to me at all, let me clarify: I gave her dead flowers! They were brown! Things that aren't alive aren't pretty! Dead things do not drink water! People usually do not display dead flowers! Okay? Okay!
I closed my eyes and reopened them… The dead flowers were still there! Darn it! I took a deep breath, rubbed my forehead, and spoke calmly; "Donna…are those the dead flowers I gave you?"
My assistant looked up and gave a little smile. "Yes, Josh, they are."
Alert! Confusion! Alert! Confusion! "Okay…and you have them in water because…?"
Donna plucked off one of the flowers' many dead leaves. "I thought they would look nicer in a vase…and flowers drink water, Josh."
Yes, flowers that are alive! My forehead became a mass of lines. I had this feeling I wasn't going to get anywhere on this subject… Maybe I should be happy; Donna doesn't seem upset…
I left Donna at her desk and hurried into my office. Johnson gets ornery if he has to wait too long. I shifted papers on my desk, looking for the info on nuclear waste. "Donna!"
She appeared in my doorway, the aforementioned papers in her hand. "If you would've just waited I would've gotten them for you, Joshua."
"Thanks, Donna." I stood up and took the papers from her. We both looked at each other for a moment, both thinking about the same thing: rosebuds.
Donna grabbed my arm and gave me a little push. "You'd better go, Josh."
I looked at my watch. "I have time…"
She smirked. "No you don't. We'll talk later."
I nodded and headed off to the meeting.
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I hurried back to Donna's desk after the meeting. I thought it had gone well…just your typical day in which Josh Lyman saves the world from the hazards of nuclear waste. I am so da man! I wonder what Mom ever did with my superman T-shirt that had an L on it instead of an S? (Super Lyman can beat plain old Superman any day…at least, that's what Mom used to tell me.)
I know! I should've been pondering what Donna and I were going to talk about instead of taking trip down memory lane. It's not like I was nervous…well, maybe a little… Okay! Fine! I was really nervous! Why should a man who speaks with important political figures daily be nervous, you ask? Because…because… Something could go wrong and—
She's not there! I can't believe it! Donna's desk was empty! Was it her lunch break? Did she quit? I bellowed, "Donna!" out of pure habit. Nobody around me even flinched.
I knew my own watch was unreliable, so I tapped the person closest to me on the shoulder. The woman turned around. Large brown eyes framed with thin eyebrows blinked in surprise. Cherry-red lips parted in a picture-perfect smile. Her voice bubbled warmly, "Mister Lyman? I can't believe it! I've been here for five months and I'd thought you'd never notice me!"
The time…the time…I need to know the time! But who needs to know the time when there's such an attractive creature right here? "I—
The woman batted her long eyelashes and twirled a stand of blonde hair (a few shades darker than Donna's) around a manicured finger. "My name is Trisha. That girl…what's her name? Diana? No…Donna! That's it! She always hogs you!"
Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink. Pause. Excuse me…did I miss something? "She…what?"
"Hogs you," Tansy repeated. "I bet you don't even know any of the other intern's names."
I…well… That's beside the point. "Uh—
"What's his name?" The woman pointed to a man a few feet away. He looked like any average Joe…or Martin…or Jordan…or Mick…or Ed…
How should I know his name? I stalled, "Maybe if you tell me what it starts with…"
Tara…Tory…Tina… (I'm not always good with names, all right?) She laughed lightly. "His name's Toby."
No fair! I already know a Toby! There shouldn't be more than one person with the same name in the White House… "But…I…"
Clearly, she read my mind. "Sometimes more than one woman names their kid the same name."
I ran my fingers through my hair. "Actually, I was just looking for Donna."
Tristy frowned. "Oh. I haven't seen her."
"Okay, thanks." I watched her walk away. What nice, slender legs… Wait a minute! What am I doing?
Donna's the one who helped me after the shooting. Donna's the one who let me crash on her couch and slur curses at the demons-with-fur her roommate owns. Donna's the one who banters with me. Donna's the one who quotes (sometimes-useful) facts to me. And, as a matter of fact, Donna also has nice legs!
So what was I thinking?
I walked into my office and pulled out a Washington D.C. phone book. A book filled with names and numbers and restaurants.
Where did that T-woman get her facts, anyway? I never had a problem not knowing intern's names. I was fine saying, "Hey, you with the fill-in-the-blank (i.e. purple shoes…long hair…green dress…etc.)!"
I flipped to the Italian restaurant section. Though C.J.'s opinion was appreciated, I think I should go with Sam on this one. The whole Italian-thing seemed to have worked for him before. Maybe women like the whole Lady and the Tramp pasta-scene/Godfather I, II, III effect?
I skim the Yellow Pages. Let's see. An Italian Restaurant… Freddie's… Luigi's… Mama's… Ah ha! Here we go: Romeo's Italian Experience. What's better than that? I can't possibly go wrong!
I scribbled the place and time on a Post-It. I'll sneak out early and leave the note on one of the copy machines Donna frequents…
I smile, practicing my Lyman-charm. Inner Romeo, don't fail me now!
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To be continued!
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Note: The last chapter of The Political Engagement should be up! (But you might have to dig to find it!) I'm sorry it took so long! Keep your eyes out for The Political Engagement: Episode 2!