The Political Engagement: Episode 1
By: The Writer
Category: Josh/Donna
Rating: PG
Scene Two
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Le Restaurant Silencieux De Rose
As soon as the light on top of the camera flicked off the commentator shoved his script into his pocket and offered a hand to the bewildered Josh. The man, seeing that his only role in The Political Engagement was to speak off-screen, was dressed fairly casually in a pale-green polo shirt and khakis.
After shaking hands with both Josh and Donna, the man explained, "My name is Arnold Joansen." He held up a hand before the Deputy Chief of Staff could speak. "Don't waste your breath yelling at me, Mr. Lyman. I'm just hired to talk; I don't run this thing. But I'll tell you one thing: you're putting on quite a show."
"We're what?" said Josh, his voice echoed a split-second later by Donna's.
Arnold smirked. "My point precisely."
His forehead a mass of lines, Josh grabbed his assistant's arm. "Come on, Donna. We have to talk about this."
Donna blinked in surprise at her boss' tone of voice, but hurried after him as the cameraman yelled, "Three minutes!"
Stopping in the narrow hallway in-between le homes et la femmes salle de bains, the Deputy Chief of Staff ran a hand over his face. "Donna, this…thing, I'm guessing we can't get out of it."
"It might not be so bad, Joshua," she offered with a look of hope on her face.
"Donna," he whined.
"Think of it as positive publicity. It would do the American public good to see how strong a senior member of the White House staff was only a short while before telling them about the President's—
Josh spoke firmly, "No, Donna. That's what I'm afraid of. Under no circumstances will you or I utter a word that sounds remotely like 'multiple sclerosis', okay?"
Donna shook her head in agreement.
"Okay. Then we should head back out there. Oh, and, Donna?"
"Yes?"
"Let's…um," Josh pulled at his collar, "keep this a normal, professional meal between two…co-workers."
"Yeah, okay, Josh. But what else," she feigned innocent curiosity, "would it be?"
Her boss began walking back out to the entrance, gesturing wildly with his hands as he spoke, "It's a dating show, Donna. I just…we can't get carried away…I mean, we never would, but...the camera…"
Donna thought about rescuing his floundering excuse; "Uh-huh," but decided to just let Josh dig himself into the ground.
When they got back to the lobby the cameraman held up a pointer finger, signaling that there was one minute left until they went back on the air.
"You two okay with this?" Arnold asked.
"Sure. Donna and I have nothing to hide…it's just going to be a free meal."
A short man stepped in through the open doorway to hand Josh and Donna small, portable mikes that clipped to their shirts. The commentator mulled over the deputy's response and smirked as he decided the TV audience would get quite a show. Anybody who worked in the White House had something to hide…and the man pulling at his tie had no poker face.
The light on the camera flickered back on and Arnold began speaking, "Hello and welcome back to The Political Engagement. All you viewers are in for a treat; you get to "have dinner" with Ms. Moss and Mr. Lyman. Josh, Donna, now I'm going to leave you in the care of Jacob, your cameraman, and Zack."
Zack was the stalky man who equipped the government workers with their mikes. He wore jeans and a tattered Miller Lite T-shirt. Zack was now standing to the right of the camera, out of view, holding a stack of white cue cards.
"What, you couldn't spring for the portable Teleprompter?" Josh quipped.
Arnold's eyes bugged out of his head; the producers of The Political Engagement would not be happy to have their viewers learn that the reality show they were watching was partially scripted. Hoping that his contract wasn't being run through the shredder, Arnold slipped out through the door.
A young waiter appeared behind Josh and Donna. He had broad shoulders that filled his white dress shirt. The man led them to a table lit by flickering candles. Ignoring the cameraman and the cue cards, he handed the White House staff members their menus. "J'mapple Francois and I'll be your waiter tonight. Monsiuer, madame, may I get you something to drink?"
Donna smiled brightly at the attractive Francois. She was about to speak when Josh cut her off, "A scotch on the rocks."
"Josh."
"What?"
"You're ordering scotch in a French restaurant?"
"Yeah. So?" Josh shrugged. "Fine. I'll have a glass of red wine."
Donna leaned close to the waiter's ear. "Just get him a glass of grape juice…he has a sensitive system."
Francois smiled and winked at her. He spoke with a strong French accent, "My pleasure."
"Donna!" Her boss' face was bright red.
"What?" she asked innocently.
"This is national television!" Josh rubbed his forehead. "You're ruining my chances of ever getting a decent date again…"
Donna's face fell as she tried to shrug off the feeling of rejection. She looked down at the mike. "Oh, that. Fine, Joshua, you can get drunk if you want to. I'm sure all the women out there would love to see that." She turned back to Francois. "I'll take a white Zinfandel."
Josh took a deep breath and slowly released it. He leaned back in his seat. "Donna, I didn't mean it like… I'm not going to get drunk."
His assistant turned to watch the waiter walk away. "Whatever, Josh."
He laughed. "Don't tell me you're interested in that guy!"
Donna raised her eyebrows. "Who said I was interested in Francois?"
Josh pointed an accusing finger at her. "See! You used his first name and you checked him out!"
"Josh! He said his first name. You just weren't listening."
"He's not even from the U.S.!"
"So?"
"Probably an illegal immigrant and—
"Josh."
"What?"
Francois leaned over the table as he set down their drinks. "Actually, monsieur, I am in America for just a few months in a…what do you call it? A foreign exchange course."
"For college?" Donna asked, leaning forward in interest. "I actually took a semester of French…"
Sensing the foreplay of a long discussion, Josh interjected, "Thank you," and gave a dismissive nod.
Donna delicately sipped her drink. "Josh, you didn't have to do that."
"Tell me, Donnatella, how many courses did you take in college?"
"Josh—
"Why do you like the vagabond, anyway?" he inquired, trying to pretend he wasn't really interested in her answer.
"Maybe I like well-traveled men."
Josh took a large gulp of the purple liquid in his glass and made a face. "Ugh. Sparkling grape juice."
Donna stifled a laugh as Francois walked back over to their table. "May I interest you in an appetizer, Assiette de Charcuterie? It includes slices of saucisson sec, andouillette, and—
"No," Josh cut the waiter off, "let's just skip ahead to the main course."
Francois looked slightly confused, but recovered, "Why certainly, what may I get for you, sir?"
The Deputy Chief of Staff whipped open his menu. "I'll have…that." He jabbed a finger at the French words he couldn't pronounce.
The waiter looked down at the menu. "Agneau avec de la sauce a poivre?"
"Yes, that."
Donna looked horrified. "Josh!"
"What?" her boss asked in surprise.
"That's lamb!"
"Yes—
"It has a face…"
Josh sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Since when did you become an animal rights activist, Donna? I'm not eating its face."
"Red meat is not healthy for you either, Joshua." She turned to Francois. "He's having Garden Ratatouille."
"Garden?" Josh grumbled. "As in vegetables?"
Donna chose to ignore him. "And I'll have Chicken Cordon Bleu."
"Merci." The waiter took their menus and left.
Josh tapped his fingers against his glass. "Doesn't a chicken have a face?"
"A beak, Joshua, is a totally different thing—
"Humph. You'd think someone who was born in 'the dairy state' could appreciate a little meat…"
Donna looked straight at him and said seriously, "It's for your own good." She sighed. "But, Josh, why must you always try to ruin my dates?"
"What? With Frenchy? He's probably gay."
"He's probably romantic," she countered. "You're just trying to ruin this."
Josh gestured at the camera. "This? I'm not trying to ruin it."
"Are too."
"Are not… Wait a minute, why am I arguing with you? I have no reason to try to ruin a reality TV show."
"Not that, Joshua…this. You want to ruin this because it's a date and I'm on it and you have this…. This, thing about me on dates," Donna explained, slamming her foot down in emphasis.
Josh winced. Her heal had smashed into his foot, instead of the carpet. She looked concerned; "Oh, Josh, I'm sorry. Was that your—
"I'm fine. And I do not have a thing about you on dates," Josh exclaimed, his voice almost a whine. Donna looked at him skeptically. "Well…not about dates with me." He shook his head. "I mean, this isn't a date. It's…it's…a meal…on TV…that Leo's probably watching…"
Zack, the cue card guy, frantically waved a card around in the air, trying to get Josh's attention. The Deputy Chief of Staff looked up and silently read it: Stop arguing!!! This is a dating show! People don't want to watch other people argue; they can look around their houses and see that! Do something funny! PLEASE!
Josh proceeded to stick his fingertips into his grape juice and flick the purple liquid at Donna. Her mouth hung open as she wiped at her shirt. "Joshua! What are you doing?"
He pointed at the cue card and explained simply, "Something funny. I would have blown a straw wrapper at you, but my kiddie drink didn't come with one."
Donna turned around to see a different cue card. Talk. Talk about something that will lighten the mood.
Turning back to Josh, she managed to say with a straight face, "Josh. You are so the Dude. Ever since I met you I thought 'He is such a macho-man,' but I was too afraid to tell you. So now I am." Unable to contain herself, Donna burst out laughing.
Josh smirked. "It was big of you to admit that, Donna, thank you."
Jacob, the cameraman, faded out the shot. "Nice recovery, guys. We're clear for a commercial break."
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In the White House
"See, this isn't going so bad," said Sam, messaging his neck. Toby had finally let go of him with a comment that sounded something like, 'Boy that felt good; I wanted to strangle you for a long time'.
Leo paced around the room. "You're just lucky they haven't spilled anything about the President…yet."
C.J. hung up her cell phone. "Well, I just got off the phone with Carol. So far nobody has come up with a way to make Josh and Donna going out sound like a bad thing. Donna is going on her own free will, she's not a minor or an intern, and Josh is not married."
Toby sighed and rubbed his face. "So we're in the clear?"
"I didn't say that," C.J. corrected. "So far the press hasn't come up with anything, that doesn't mean they won't dig up something in the next few hours. Josh hasn't said anything too stupid, yet, has he?"
"He pissed Donna off," replied Sam.
"When doesn't he piss someone off?" C.J. asked.
"Point taken. Do you know if Donna eats meat?"
"I think so, Sam. I don't exactly pay attention to those things. Why?"
"She wouldn't let him eat lamb."
"Who? Josh?" C.J. shoved her cell phone back into her pocket. "Good. The last thing we want next Big Block of Cheese Day is a bunch of activists running around singing "Mary had a Little Lamb". Besides, duckling tastes better."
Sam's mouth hung open. "Duckling? Like those fluffy little—
"Yes, Sam, get over it. They aren't served with their feathers on. I prefer them in orange sauce and—
The Deputy Communication's Director shook his head. "That's wrong, C.J., just plain wrong."
"What? It's just a duck!"
Leo and Toby nodded in agreement. "Sam's right. Eating ducks is wrong. I mean, we need wool for clothes… But ducks, they didn't do anything wrong—
C.J. stood up and walked towards the doorway. "There're messy! We use their down." She threw the door open and yelled, "You know why there aren't any kiddie songs about ducks? Because nobody likes them! Jeez. I can't believe you guys!"
She stomped out and slammed the door shut. The three men looked at each other and shrugged. Sam pointed at the screen. "Hey, look, it's coming back on!"
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To be continued…
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