Twenty-Five Hundred And Counting
by Dana
Rating: G
Summary: "Yes. A fan club. The Donna Moss Fan Club."
Spoilers: None
Feedback: Always, at darazy@netvision.net.il
Notes: This is an answer to Mary/Chris's challenges about Donna
having a fan club, so this is dedicated to you two :-) Thanks to
Susan and Nancy for betaing, huge thanks to Yana for same, and to Evelyn, for
giving me a spontaneous homework assignment. If only we got these at
school...
Disclaimer: The characters all belong to Aaron Sorkin, no copyright infringement
intended.
* * *
At first glance the small, square post-it seemed like nothing out of
the ordinary. A brief daily schedule reminder, it was crammed to the
edges with the usual acronyms of people, organizations and bills that
had to be dealt with that day. It was only when Josh looked it over
for the second time that he realized there was one item he wasn't
familiar with.
He stepped outside his office and waved the note at Donna, who was
typing at her desk. "What's this under the NRA meeting?"
"Huh?" she asked absently, fingers continuing to speed across the
keyboard.
"There's some interview you scheduled for me, but I don't recognize
these initials."
Her face never left the monitor. "Right," she agreed.
"Absolutely. "
Casually, he folded his arms. "So we've decided to have the President
eliminated," he stated. "Because down in the kitchens they were
complaining about the terror regime of New England produce."
"That's--one second, Josh."
Not one to favor being ignored, Josh approached her desk so he could
tower over her. "It's nice to know that the free world could go down
in a flame of foreign food and you'll just go on, click-click-
clickin' away." He pressed the Alt and F4 keys and stuck the note in
front of her face, pointing at the problematic line. "What does this
mean?"
Donna's arm pinned his own to the desk and she stared at him, paying
no attention to the note. "You do realize I was five seconds away
from printing this memo which I've been working on for half an hour."
Josh straightened. "I guess I shouldn't have done that, then," he
offered, a tad sheepishly.
"No, you should not have," she huffed.
"But you're gonna redo it anyway," he surmised hopefully.
"Yes."
"Phew," he breathed. "So what--"
"There's nothing under the NRA meeting." Donna answered, slumped
despondently in her chair now that she thought of all the extra work
ahead of her.
"Hey, you were listening!" Josh exclaimed.
She rolled her eyes. "Your voice is just a bit too annoying to be
ignored. The NRA meeting is the last thing you're doing today."
"Except that according to this note, it isn't," he contradicted
her. "Unless I am mistaken, and I admit I'm frequently mistaken when
it comes to your handwriting, but in this case it seems I have a
scheduled interview with or about the WLDN." Josh looked down at her
expectantly.
"Oh, dear," she said quickly, grabbing the note from his hand. She
scanned it briefly, then switched it with a similar note that was
stuck on her desk lamp. She gave him the new one with an apologetic
expression. "Looks like I mixed up your agenda with my copy. Sorry."
She immediately turned to her computer screen and began typing again.
"Whoa, wait a second." Josh inspected his new post-it which, indeed,
had an organized schedule that ended with a meeting with
representatives from the NRA. "What's the WLDN and how come it's only
on your schedule?"
"It's nothing," she dismissed. "I have lots of work now, so if
you
could--?" She left it hanging.
"Sure, yeah," Josh agreed. After all, she did have to rewrite the
memo because of him. He entered his office and closed the door behind
him.
Ten minutes later he stepped back out, and declared: "I've checked
every single file in my office and not one of them mentions the WLDN."
"You have hundreds of files in your office," Donna pointed out.
"I checked the W's."
"Oh." She kept her face blank.
"Well?" he demanded.
"It's nothing," she brushed him off again, making a small movement
with her hand as if swatting a fly.
"It's not nothing! My assistant is giving out secret interviews. It's
my right to know what they're about. It's my responsibility,"
he
added with emphasis, "to know what they're about."
"Look, Josh, this is none of your business. And it's nothing. I have
to type now."
"Yeah, I can see you're awfully eager to do that. What's the WLDN?"
"Besides nothing?"
"Besides that."
"It's..." she faltered. "The... World... Long Distance...
Negotiations."
Short pause. "You made that up," he accused.
"You could tell?" she muttered under her breath, but continued
fluently. "Actually, it's short for Wimbledon. I was gonna watch the
interview with the winner of the tournament."
"Really?" An eyebrow arched up.
"Yes," she replied confidently.
"Who was the Champion?"
She grasped for a name, but her mind was empty. "Well, I was gonna
watch to find out," she flailed.
Josh shook his head. "You're reaching."
"Yeah, I know."
"WLDN. I'm putting it out there, all you gotta do is interpret four
letters and I'm off your back."
Donna doubted it. "Wildlife League... of Ducks, and... Something."
"You know," he said, placing both hands flat on her desk and leaning
down, "I get this feeling there's something you don't want me to
know."
"I love it when you get observant," she murmured into her screen.
"Wouldn't it be simpler if you just told me?"
"I'm starting to think that it might." Donna twisted her chair
towards him so she could look him square in the face. "Okay. This is
going to come as a big shock, so you might wanna sit down. Although I
have no visitor's chair, because I have no office, and this might be
a good time to bring up--"
"It's really not."
"And have you noticed it never is?" His glare weakened her
resolve. "Right. As I was saying, this will come as a surprise to
you, and the only reason I haven't told you until now is that I
thought your reaction might be..." To make my life a living hell?
Freaking out and blowing this all out of proportion? Pestering every
single person in the west wing? Firing me in a mad fit of rage,
perhaps? ".anyway. Try not to feel threatened or overshadowed by
this."
"I'll do my best," he replied in an indulgent tone.
"I'm only trying to prepare you."
"Point, Donna."
"I was getting to it! The final item I have on my schedule for today
is a monthly interview given to the"--she took a deep breath--"the We
Love Donna Newsletter. It's published by my fan club." Donna braced
herself.
She really should have expected the weak laugh that
followed. "Your... your..." he chortled, unable to get the words
out. "Fan club?" He pressed one arm to the table for support,
and
for a fleeting second tried to force his face into a serious
expression.
"Yes," she said with indignation. She'd been trying to cushion the
blow, but if this was his reaction, he would get similar
treatment. "A fan club. The Donna Moss Fan Club."
Josh lips turned up along with his eyebrows. Obviously this was the
most entertaining thing he had heard in a while. "Whose members
include," he pondered, "let's think... You. Your roommate. The three
cats..." he cracked up again, one step away from slapping his thighs.
"It happens to have a very widespread member base," she said testily.
"Donna." He grinned, and when he spoke his voice dripped with
condensation. "My fan club happens to have over one thousand members.
Yours has, what, eleven?"
Donna raised her chin. "Twenty-five hundred." Josh snorted, so she
repeated the figure. "Two-thousand five-hundred and seventeen, to be
precise."
He stared at her for a moment, trying to judge whether or not she was
being serious, until eventually he reached the correct
conclusion. "What!" he screeched.
Donna flinched. "Keep it down, Josh."
"How can this be?" he asked incredulously. "This is impossible.
Show
me--show me proof."
With a sigh, Donna reached into her bottom desk drawer and pulled out
a folded copy of the magazine. Josh stared at the header, which
cheerfully read `We Love Donna' in a flowery pink font. Underneath,
the main title read: `Donna Visits Wisconsin Family July 4th', and
besides that a side column with a photo of twenty or so laughing
people, captioned: `2500 and counting: Go Donna!'
Dumbfounded, Josh flipped through the pages, his eyes registering
pictures of a teenaged Donna, trivia corners, questionnaires,
articles, specials and a crossword puzzle. He tried to solve one of
the puzzles. Ten across: Donna's first boyfriend (3,7).
"Unbelievable," he mumbled.
"Jim Connors," she assisted helpfully. "It was in tenth grade,
he was
in my drama club."
"Thanks," Josh replied sarcastically, throwing the paper down on her
lap. "Any other clubs I should be aware of?"
She folded it neatly and quickly stuck it back in the drawer. "Come
on, you know it doesn't mean anything."
In a vigorous tone he retorted, "Oh, I know it doesn't mean
anything."
"It's not that more people like me than they like you," she added.
"More people don't like you than they like me," he scowled.
"The whole thing is plain silly," Donna scoffed, "and you
shouldn't
feel jealous at all."
"I don't feel jealous at all," Josh said darkly.
"Okay, then," she smiled brightly, turning back to her
computer. "Back to work."
Josh spun around and marched towards his office. "Back to work," he
repeated, slamming the door behind him.
_
