Authors: Enigmatic Ellie and Westwinger247
Posted: January 21, 2002
Homepage: http://wing_nuts.tripod.com
Marilyn Rogers stood in her private box at Camden Yards, surveying the enormous feast. She silently prayed that everything would be to the President's liking. Marilyn knew that President Bartlet enjoyed watching baseball, and she wanted to make certain that he was pleased.
The first pitch of the season had just been fired by Bartlet--and not a bad throw for a man with MS who was rumored to be more interested in the Latin roots of baseball terminology than the actual game, commentators announced. Marilyn did a final mental review of the room as she knew the security entourage was making its way to the box at that moment. As she completed her run-through, the door to her box opened. A Secret Service Agent entered with his finger pressed to the clear wire in his ear. On his heels was S.J. Rixon.
"Ms. Rogers," the agent said flatly, "Ms. Rixon."
"Thank you," Marilyn replied and greeted SJ with a hug.
"That was an experience," SJ smirked as she motioned to the retreating agent.
"You didn't enjoy being frisked?"
"I didn't say it was a bad experience," SJ countered.
"I'm surprised they let you in," Marilyn said. "I guess all went well when you were vetted."
"You can't be half as shocked as I am."
"I guess I twisted a couple of the right arms after all."
"Sam and Josh?" SJ guessed.
"Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies," Marilyn chuckled. "But, off the record, Sam was the easy one. With Josh… Let's just say I had to bruise him."
"Great," SJ said flatly though she was smiling. "He'll still be whining when he gets here. Did you see him with Russert on Sunday? Nice shiner, huh? I gotta pay whoever did that."
Moments later the door opened again and several agents walked in and positioned them around the room. Ron Butterfield, head of the Presidents personal detail, entered seconds ahead of President Bartlet.
"Mr. President," Marilyn said with a warm smile. "Welcome to Camden Yards, home of the Baltimore Orioles."
"Thank you, Ms. Rogers," Bartlet replied, returning the smile. "There's nothing like America's Pastime to rejuvenate one's self. That's what I always say."
"I couldn't agree with you more, sir. And please, call me Mary."
"Mary it is, then. You can call me Mr. President."
"Yes, Mr. President."
Bartlet grinned and patted Marilyn on her shoulder.
"Sir, may I also introduce a good friend of mine, S.J. Rixon," Marilyn said offering the formal introduction.
Bartlet offered his hand to the woman and greeted her warmly.
"The Pulitzer Prize winner," Bartlet said, pleased he had not needed a cheat sheet from Charlie to make the connection.
"Not this year," she said though managed to sound as though she was bragging. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. President."
"I've read your books," he replied. "Not bad, for a Vermonter."
"A New Hampshire man who can read?" SJ quipped. "I'm blown away."
"SJ!" Marilyn barked tersely. "Mr. President, I apologize and recommend you just ignore her. Her rabies are acting up because her team is going to get spanked today."
"No disrespect meant, Mr. President," SJ said affably.
"None that I don't appreciate," Bartlet said with a nod only natives of the twin states could decipher.
Charlie and Marilyn exchanged nods as he maneuvered the President away from the cantankerous writer. Toby was the next to enter, proudly sporting a Yankee baseball cap with his brown suit.
"Mr. Zeigler," Marilyn grinned.
"Here it can be Toby," he said.
"Okay, Toby," Marilyn said. "You know, I really shouldn't let you in my box with that monstrosity on."
"I have my rights," he replied dryly.
"Yes, and no taste in sports franchises," she said. "You should go over there and speak with my friend, SJ."
"Why?"
"She's a traitor, too. You'll have lots to talk about."
"I like her already," Toby replied as he made his way over SJ, who was now standing next to the buffet table returning the steely gaze of the Secret Service Agent who had placed himself between she and the President.
"Samuel!" Marilyn said as she placed a kiss on his cheek as he entered. "Great to see you."
"When are you going to break down and go out with me?" Sam asked.
"When you give up your wild life in politics, sweetie," Marilyn said with a wink. "You'd better go grab some food before SJ drips some poison in it so we don't harass her later when her team disgraces itself."
"Hey, don't think I can't hear you," SJ protested.
Sam chuckled and joined SJ and Toby.
"All right, Mary," CJ said she entered. "Where are the boys?"
"Best view in the stadium--besides the dugout, of course," she replied. "You really ought to stop by when they're taking batting practice."
"Why's that?"
"Less clothes."
"That's Mary's philosophy: Less clothing is better," Josh said as he strolled into the room, with Donna in tow. He leaned toward the GM and said more softly. "Rumor has it I was the basis for that philosophy."
"You really live in your own little world, don't you?" Marilyn shot back as the two kissed each other on the cheek. "And you're confusing me with someone else. SJ was the philosophy major."
"Yeah, I dealt in theory back then," she said from beside Toby. "Like, in theory Josh were entertaining; in theory, he was a good evening distraction, and similar fallacies."
"Really?" Toby asked sounding surprised. "You and... him?"
"Don't worry," SJ said with a nod. "Didn't last long. I reached the Age of Reason."
"You know, I was thinking of just faking it, but I think I might actually start to like you," Toby said.
Mary yanked Josh's arm to pull him into the room and usher in his shadow. She has specifically invited Donna as her guest, rather than asking Josh to bring her along as his. She would be the only assistant with the senior staff and Marilyn wanted her to feel that she belonged rather than she was grudgingly accepted.
"You can separate yourselves," Marilyn said to Donna. "It's not like the two of you are attached. You're here as my guest, Donna, so feel free to ignore him entirely--just like I do."
"Uh, yeah," Donna said nervously, then took a quick glance over at Josh. "It's great to see you again."
"You too," Marilyn replied slowly, noticing how each stiffened at her last remark.
*****************
The game proceeded. Scoring was low, opportunities were plentiful. Though Marilyn was not pleased that her team appeared to be struggling, she was glad the game was keeping her guests on the edges of their seats. The President appeared to be enjoying himself. The same could not be true of his staff.
Toby was torn between notes Sam was scribbling for an upcoming speech and keeping an eye on the game. Sam was uninterested in the game and trying desperately to keep Toby's attention without vexing him greatly--a failed effort from start to finish. CJ sat amidst the senior staff, hassling Sam when she felt the urge, by asking obtuse questions about his childhood and whether he had been cut from Little League teams or held some psychological reservations about baseball. Leo stood in the corner most of the time, his cell attached to his ear as he spoke in hushed tones while occasionally joining the group to whisper updates and details to Bartlet, who continually addressed his personal aide on his wishes that his Chief-of-Staff would do the unthinkable: Act like his deputy--relaxed.
Josh appeared relaxed as he sat in his seat, uninterested in either team on the field, but playing sports tutor to his assistant. Donna, for all her vast knowledge on many subjects, was confused about the Infield Fly Rule. Josh broke down the reasoning and strategy behind the rule for her, laying out an explanation that any six-year-old would grasp on 10 seconds. He completed his lesson with the proclamation that the Infield Fly Rule was one of the three rules he felt were absolutes in the universe.
"Hey!" SJ snapped. "Quit stealing my stuff! I wrote that line."
"You did not," Josh said. "I told you that
and you went and stuck it in one of your crazy, little, freaky girl stories
that no one
but you understands."
His head snapped forward instantly as she delivered an open-palmed slap to the back of his head in reprimand. He twisted in his seat, a pleased scowl of a challenge accepted on his lips.
"Don't start with me, Joshua," she said cutting off his opening argument. "I fight dirty."
"All fighting is dirty," he countered.
"Don't make me tell these people something I'll enjoy and you'll regret."
"Oh, tell," CJ chimed in. "Please, tell. Pretty please. I'll pay you. Really."
"I don't have any secrets," Josh said confidently.
"Oh, so you won't mind if I tell them why you missed the Dean's List spring semester sophomore year," SJ taunted.
"Oh, I know that," CJ sighed with disappointment. "That was the thing with registering the fish for classes."
"That was the previous semester," SJ said with a sly grin. "I was referring to the next semester."
"What's the count?" Josh asked loudly, using the tone that normally by its sheer force changed subjects.
"Two-and-one," Sam offered, a grin on his face and his ears perked to the discussion as he turned to SJ. "SJ, you were saying..."
"Hey, we're watching a game here," Josh said. "Donna is fascinated by the ground rules, and I think a little consideration should be given so she can concentrate."
"This is not a game," Toby said flatly, joining the discussion. "This is a fix. Frankly, embarrassing you sounds more entertaining."
"No one cares," Josh cried. "Besides, after graduation, who really cares what your GPA was?"
"I had a 3.98," SJ taunted. "What was yours again?"
"You needed excessive tutoring in physics and politic science at one point," Josh said loftily. "And, as I recall, you didn't take more than Intro. courses in either of those."
"True," SJ nodded. "But that's off the subject of why you missed the Dean's List. That was an interesting… episode."
"Episode?" CJ grinned. "Okay, now I need details. It might be important someday. Oh, please tell me it's mortifying."
The writer grinned and shot a knowing and pleased glare at Josh.
"Well, he and Chris--his roommate..."
"Representative Chris Wick," Josh said firmly, hoping for some modicum of control to return to him
"Chris is a pain and a yutz and, as far as I'm concerned represents, little more than the reason why politicians are considered vain and ill-informed," S.J. replied heatedly. "Friends of the Program, Josh. Read it sometime. Where was I? Oh yes, the Dean's List..."
She got no further. Josh stood instantly and gripped her elbow. With a serious glare and a harsh tone, he ordered her to follow him.
"Outside," Josh said firmly.
He hauled her out of box before another syllable spilled over her lips.
"I want full disclosure," CJ called as they left the room.
"I'll get it," Toby remarked.
"How?" Sam asked.
"She's impressed by me," Toby said plainly. "We'll share."
"She's impressed by me, too," Sam offered in a more feeble tone.
"She's not, but if it makes you feel better about yourself then, sure Sam," Toby quipped. "We're all impressed by you. Weekly."
"You have quite the mean streak in you, Toby," Sam pouted.
"Yeah, I'm impressive like that."
****************
"Sarah, I swear to God, if you say...." Josh began, his eyes narrowing, signaling he was prepared for a mighty battle.
"Calm down, Josh," SJ laughed. "I have nothing to say because I don't know anything."
"I'm going to... What?"
"Joshua, I have no idea why you didn't make the Dean's List," she confessed. "I do know that you were so mad at yourself for this perceived failure that you buried yourself even more in your books that I wondered if you were losing your mind."
"It was important," he said sullenly.
"The grades or the reason you didn't pull a 3.5 or higher every semester?" she asked. "Josh, I was having fun with you in there. You know I would never do anything to make fun of you if it made you feel like this. I owe you too much to ever consider...."
"You don't owe me anything," he said. "That's just what friends do."
"They'll keep you from jumping off the roof of a dorm, but they won't read your books?" she asked mildly, relenting a smile.
"I did," he admitted. "The one that people actually read."
"Friends of the Program?" she inquired. "They're making it into a movie. I was going to call you. Julia Roberts is in it. She wants to meet you. She thinks you're... interesting. I told her it's all done with mirrors."
"You're still madly in love with me, aren't you?" he grinned.
"I never was and you were only interested in while you were bugging me to go out with you," she replied. "Joshua, we really didn't date that much when you think about it. There were a few weeks where we were... You are the worst boyfriend I ever had, but you are probably the best friend anyone could ask for. And now I've made you uncomfortable..."
"No," he waved off his former anger. "It's nothing. I'm sorry. I just...."
"I know," SJ offered. "You're a talented politician, Josh. You have a commendable blend of foresight, pragmatism, courage, and sheer will, but you need a lot of work outside the political ring. I'm telling you this as one of your most devout fans: Don't wait too long. You have lots of potential to be a really great someone. And, someday, some woman is going to see that as well and to you that person is going to be as important as this job you do--maybe even more so. Take some advice: Don't panic when it does; take a deep breath and enjoy yourself--you've more than earned it."
She kissed him on the cheek before returning to the room, caught in the full and astonished glare of Donna, who was watching them through the window despite the commotion in the room as the game drew even tighter.
****************
Donna tuned out further discussion in the box and the action on the field as she watched the display in the hall. She did not share the mirth the others were feeling. She forced a smile to her lips to match their chuckling and snickering, but inside she felt queasy. She had watched through the narrow glass panel in the door as Josh and SJ bandied words. Their gestures were mildly emphatic, but there was nothing quarrelsome in their expressions. The way he rolled his eyes and touched her arm, and the manner in which she tauntingly patted his cheek was so comfortable, so familiar after she kissed him. There was much history there, Donna knew. What she was left wondering was how much of it would stay in the past.
Her expression was not fielded by anyone in the room except Marilyn. She caught the quick flash in Donna's eyes that was a mixture of confusion, jealousy, hurt and resignation. Marilyn read it expertly for one reason only: She had sported it herself before in a similar situation. As the others settled back into the game, she tapped Donna on the shoulder.
"Can I see you for a second?" Marilyn asked and gestured to the back of the room.
Donna nodded, mystified as to why she would be needed. However, she was a guest and was willing to assist in any way necessary. She stepped to the far back corner where Marilyn spoke to her in warm but hushed tones. "He's something else," Marilyn sighed, and jerked her head briskly toward the door at the opposite end of the room.
Donna caught a slight gleam in Marilyn's eye. She looked over at the two in the hall still grappling with their friendly discord. Donna wondered how Josh could be so open, so comfortable and so relaxed with either of these women when they both knew so much about him. While when he was with her.... Donna stopped that thought and physically shook it from her head.
"Do you think she wants him back?" Donna asked and then placed her hand over her mouth, instantly regretting what she had said.
Marilyn turned towards Donna with a questioning look. "Donna, what makes you say that?"
"Do you?" she asked in a more hushed tone but one that held an equal amount of trepidation.
"Donna," Marilyn sighed as she placed a comforting hand on Donna's shoulder.
"No… I mean, it's just a bad time," Donna said. "You know, with reelection coming up and all. I mean, Josh deserves to be happy but..."
Marilyn stared into Donna's blue eyes. She could see flashes of jealousy, and hurt.
"I make it a point never to speak for SJ--lowers the chances of a lawsuit for either of us," Marilyn said. "However, I don't think I'd be leading you astray to say that SJ and Joshua are good friends--like he and I are good friends. I don't think there is any more there that is serious."
"But you both…"
Marilyn nodded slowly, helping make her point and calming Donna somewhat.
"That was a long time ago," Marilyn said. "Josh is someone you only get one chance with. It didn't work for either of us. It shouldn't have. Neither of us was right for him, and he's not right for either us. It was good, for a time, but that time is past. The friendship remains. That'll never fade completely."
Donna lowered her head.
"Mary, I'm so sorry," Donna apologized. "I don't know what I was..."
"Did I hear that you've been seeing someone?" Marilyn asked in calculated tone.
"That was.... a mistake" Donna sighed. "It was like sleeping with the enemy, I suppose.."
"Who is the enemy?" Marilyn asked dryly. "Donna, you look like you're under a lot of stress. This is supposed to be an evening to relax."
"I know," Donna sighed. "It's just not that easy."
"It can be," Marilyn said. "Listen, are you working tonight?"
"I don't think so," Donna said.
"Great," Marilyn said. "You need a night out with the girls to cure you of the worse kind of stress, the kind caused by men. SJ and I go out and have dinner then rake men and careers over the coals for mental health reasons every couple weeks. We're going out tonight and now you're coming with us. Don't say no to me; no one says no to me on game days."
Marilyn's pager chirped, summoning her to make a call. She left Donna with a deft nod that reinforced her point about getting her way. Donna returned the gesture somewhat hesitantly. She then took her seat again and tried to concentrate on the game. Josh appeared to be much quieter, but much to CJ's chagrin, SJ now claimed amnesia.
*****************
The bottom on the ninth arrived with the Orioles trailing the Yankees 2-1. The President, happily munching away on popcorn, was pointing out the architecture of Camden Yards to Charlie. Leo was standing next to the nearly bare buffet, grumbling orders to Margaret.
Sitting behind the President and Charlie were Sam and CJ. Sam was trying to convince CJ (unsuccessfully) that he looked better in a pair of baseball pants than Derek Jeter. Next to Sam were Josh and Donna. Josh, with one hand "casually" draped over the back of Donna's chair, was trying to explain (also unsuccessfully) to Donna why the third base coach was waving his arms in several directions.
Toby and SJ, both sporting satisfied grins, sat on the third row. SJ had her feet propped up on the empty chair in front of her and Toby was savoring his beer. Marilyn was not in her customary seat on the front row. Instead she was nervously pacing the floor behind SJ and Toby.
"What's the matter, Mary?" SJ teased. "It couldn't be because, oh let's see, Mariano Rivera is on the mound, you've got a turtle of a base runner on first, and the O's are down to their last out, could it?
"Shut up," Marilyn said and continued to pace.
"Is she always like this?" Toby asked.
"Which one?" Josh asked. "I think they're both nuts."
"All right children," Bartlet interrupted. "Let's play nice, shall we? And since everyone is so talkative, it's time for a pop quiz."
The senior staff suppressed their groans, for fear of getting more trivia on the ride home.
"Charlie, whose number did we honor today?" Bartlet asked.
"That would be Cal Ripken, sir," the aide said comfortably.
"That's not fair," Sam cried. "Anyone of us could have answered that."
"And one of you did," Bartlet pointed out. "And since you're so gung-ho about this, Sam, you're next. How long was Cal Ripken's consecutive game streak end and when did it end?"
"Uh," Sam began, and then turned to look at Marilyn.
"Sorry, Sam," Marilyn shook her head. "I can't help you. That would be cheating."
"That would be 2,632 games," CJ piped in expertly. "And he finally sat down on September 20, 1998, sir."
"That's correct," Bartlet answered.
"Suck up," Sam whispered.
"Hey, I boned up before coming. You should have, too," CJ smirked.
"Okay, Toby, you're next," Bartlet remarked.
"Name the team the Orioles were playing when Cal sat down."
"Hah! A no-brainer. The New York Yankees," Toby replied confidently.
"Yes," Bartlet said. "Next contestant is Josh."
Josh sunk down in his seat.
"Who replaced Cal in the lineup that night?"
"I don't know," Josh said. "I don't follow the Orioles. Now if it were the Mets…"
"Then we wouldn't be talking about baseball because we'd all be asleep," SJ added, catching Josh's glare and offering back her own. "The Lyman Leer is over rated, Josh. Okay, fine. The last time the Mets were in the Series, they were trounced by whom?"
"The Yankees," Toby offered.
"Toby, I think I love you," SJ said.
"I don't care," Josh said defensively. "Big pay rolls can buy pennants. So what?"
"Hey, I'm not saying the Mets aren't a good team," SJ offered. "I mean, for Triple A-ball... maybe."
"Not that it matters to either of you, but I did have the floor," Bartlet continued. "Anybody going to answer my question?"
The rest of the staff looked around at each other to see if anybody knew.
"It was Ryan Minor," Leo informed the group and then returned back to his call.
"How'd he know that?" Sam asked.
"It's Leo's," CJ surmised. "Why do you question it?"
In the interim, Mariano Rivera had finished his warm-ups
and was now staring down the Oriole player in the batter's box.
He knocked the dirt from his cleats and dug in. Rivera shook
off the first two signs. He nodded his acceptance on the third
and began his windup. With all his strength, he hurled the sphere
towards the plate.
The sound coming from the contact between bat and ball was unmistakable. The sold-out, partisan Oriole crowd jumped to their feet. The Yankee left fielder didn't move. He just turned his head to watch the baseball sail several feet into the outfield bleachers, giving the Orioles a 3-2 victory.
Toby and SJ sank in their seats.
"Yes!" Bartlet stabbing his fist into the air with gusto before standing to applaud.
Charlie stood alongside the President applauding and enjoying the scowl on Toby's face. CJ and Sam applauded boisterously. Leo turned away from the ruckus and put his finger in his ear to listen more closely to his call.
"Yes!" Marilyn screamed. "He nailed it! Oh, hey SJ, Toby? You guys don't look to happy."
"Shut up," SJ said. "Happy birthday. Let's see who's laughing in September."
"Okay, folks," Leo said snapping his phone shut. "Fun time's over. Time to get back to the office."
"You're sending them back to work Leo?" Marilyn asked.
"The early primaries were not election day," he grumbled. "The campaign doesn't stop until November 8."
"If we're lucky," Josh sighed.
"I don't envy any of you," Marilyn said, spying Josh's sudden downcast expression. "I remember campaigns."
"Well, we could always use the support of people like you and SJ," Sam said winking.
"Sam, are you ready to admit you need some help with your writing?" SJ asked.
"That's not funny," Sam grumbled.
"Actually, it is," Toby nodded.
"I think you're just riding high still because you got a softball question in the pop quiz," Sam remarked.
"Toby, who was the greatest Yankee of all time?" SJ asked, trying to bolster her spirits as well as that of the downtrodden speechwriter.
"You mean there's only one?" he gaped, a child-like glint appearing momentarily in his eyes. "Mantel, DiMaggio.."
"Gherig," SJ said with a definite nod.
"Babe Ruth," Sam offered. The two Yankee fans turned to stared at him.
"What?" Sam said defensively. "He was a great hitter. Name one single baseball player ever who could hit better."
"Josh Gibson," SJ and Toby said in unison.
SJ followed up the moment quickly. "Toby, don't get me wrong, but I think I love you."
"What about me?" Sam asked.
"Your glasses are smudged," she observed then turned away.
The President shook his head at the playground exchange but said nothing to his staffers. He stood and thanked their host for a thrilling game and generous hospitality. Such moments were rare, he said, but were one of the most enjoyable part of his job.
"It's was my pleasure, sir," Marilyn remarked. "And the door is always open for you to return."
"I'll keep that in mind," Bartlet said exiting just behind his Secret Service detail. Charlie offered his farewell and followed swiftly on the President's heels. The rest of the staff filed out as well. As Josh neared the door, Donna attempted to sneak out beside him.
"Wait a second, Donna," SJ spoke up. "You're going with us, right?"
"Yeah," Marilyn said catching the look in SJ's eyes. "Once I get things wrapped up here, we're catching a late dinner."
"Can we go?" Leo said tersely as he stuck his head back into the room. "Josh, you don't need Donna for this. Donna, go. Take it easy and relax."
She was grateful to Leo for his reprieve from an evening at her desk waiting for Josh to bark an order at her. Leo nodded his good-bye and left the room, with the senior staff in tow. Josh gave a glance back at Donna then disappeared.
"Great," Marilyn said as she sported a huge grin. "Let me head back to my office and get the recap of the night. I'll meet you both back here in about half an hour. Donna, make yourself comfortable. SJ, try not to scare her by being you."
*****************
Marilyn waited impatiently at a red light as she drove out of Georgetown back toward the Capital region. It was early in her world, but for one of her passengers it was beyond too late. Her other passenger was sitting in the front seat enjoying Marilyn's dilemma. Marilyn took shot a dagger glare at SJ then calmed herself with a deep breath to continue with her so-far unsuccessful questioning.
"Okay, Donna," she said slowly. "Let's try this one more time--no giggling. Where do you live?"
"In an apartment with three cats and a roommate," Donna slurred and broke into a forbidden fit of giggles. "It's too early to go home. I want to sing."
"She wants to sing," SJ nodded. "Maybe she'll sing her address to you."
"I blame you," Marilyn hissed. "Those were your students who...."
"Every guy wearing a Georgetown baseball cap is not my student," SJ said.
"You encouraged her to do shots with them," Marilyn pointed out.
"I simply said..."
"Oh, shut up," Donna called from the back seat. "No fighting. It'll interrupt my singing. Did you know I want to sing?"
"I want you to tell me where you live...," Marilyn continued.
"I want world peace, if any one is curious," SJ added.
"We're not and you're positively no help here," Marilyn snapped.
"Calm down," SJ said confidently. "Let the wordsmith take over. The trick to getting at the truth is all in how you phrase the question. Watch and learn, baseball girl. Donna, what is your address?"
"PO Box 14587."
"There," SJ nodded to the driver.
"So what?" she growled in return.
"Well, that's even less help than I am," SJ said with a shrug.
Marilyn continued to drive. In the corner of her eye, she saw a street sign. She looked at the clock in the dash of her Tahoe. It was just before midnight. She did some quick reasoning and decided it was the only logical course of action. She pulled a hard right and changed direction of the car.
"I'm gonna regret doing this, but we have no other alternative," she said in explanation to SJ's questioning glance.
"I think I know what you're thinking," SJ said. "I just want you to know that we're definitely moving to Brazil and changing our names first thing tomorrow."
"Si, Anita," Marilyn replied.
"Si, Rosalita," SJ added.
From the back seat, Donna again joined the conversation with her own take.
"Sea? By the sea," she started to sing, swaying gently in imaginary waves. "By the sea... by the beautiful sea..."
The arrived in the quiet street. There was a light in the window of the apartment that interested them. Both women in the front seat looked at each other, the way prisoners might before facing a firing squad. They climbed out of the vehicle.
"He's s going to kill us," Marilyn groaned as she
kept Donna from falling on the sidewalk as she stumbled out of the back
seat.
"He can't stay mad at either of us," SJ replied as she took Donna's other arm and headed toward the front steps. "Frankly, I'm not intimidated by the guy. What have we ever done that was that bad?"
"This isn't where I live," Donna offered. "This looks familiar though. Where's here?"
"We are in front of Josh's apartment," Marilyn informed her.
"Oh," she said as she tapped her lips with her finger. "I don't live with him. Tell him hello and that he's a real pain in my... Did you ever notice that he has the cutest little behind in all of...."
Marilyn groaned. "I'm so screwed."
"Yeah, monumentally," SJ agreed. "You invited her out with us; you picked up the check; you…"
"Thank you," Marilyn cut her off. "But if I remember correctly, you failed to stop any of this. After he's done with me, he's definitely gonna kill you."
"Hey, nobody twisted her arm," SJ argued.
"A twist?" Donna asked as she leaned between the ladies. "Well, I don't know if I can do it sitting down.. Oh wait, I'm standing, aren't I? Okay, then I can do it."
Donna began twisting in her spot, flailing her arms. Marilyn and SJ had to duck to keep from getting smacked by Donna's long, slender arms.
"Okay," Marilyn said as she snatched Donna's arm. "It's time to get you upstairs. SJ, a little help..."
"Sure," the writer said and struck a contemplative pose for a moment. "How about this: You should probably assist her in walking. Does that help?"
"A bunch," Marilyn said flatly. "Grab her other arm, please. Now, Donna, can you maybe put one foot in front of the other? You know, pretend you're walking."
SJ laughed quietly as the ascended the steps. She informed Marilyn that this scene was going to make it into a story of hers somewhere at some point. Marilyn said she saw no humor at that point, but she'd love to see how SJ would write anything that absolved her of the fault of this situation. It was then that Donna again got the song bug.
"Ah, love," Donna grinned as the lyrics tripped over her lips. "L is for the way he looks to me. O is for the only one I see. V is because he is so very, very, extra-ordinary. E is 'cause I love him even more than anyone that he adores..."
*****************
The three ladies finally made their way to the apartment door. The traverse up the steps normally took no more than a minute; however, this trip took them seven, for constantly having to pick up Donna, whose knees gave out every fifteen feet. Barely able to contain her own laughing at Marilyn's dire expression, SJ took a deep breath then knocked on the door.
"This is the police, Mr. Lyman. Come out with your hands up," she barked, and then turned to Marilyn. "That should get his attention."
"Yeah. That ought to do it," she responded flatly and rolled her eyes.
"What the hell?" Josh said as he flung the door open.
Marilyn greeted him with a sugary sweet smile. "Hey, there sweetheart. We, uh, have something for you."
"Thing One and Thing Two. Great," he said, then noticed the additional member of the group who was being held up. "What's going on? Donna?"
"Let me just say it's not my fault," Marilyn offered quickly.
SJ removed Donna's arms from their shoulders and nudged her towards Josh. "And we think it's a good idea that she be with... anyone but us right now. We should be going, right Marilyn?"
Marilyn nodded and the duo disappeared down the stairs before Josh could utter an objection.
"What the hell?" Josh exclaimed as Donna stumbled into his arms.
With no other options available, Josh walked Donna into the apartment and told her to lean back against the wall for a second. He turned away from her momentarily to shut the.
"Can you make it to the chair or do you need....."
Donna started to slowly slide down the wall, her limbs becoming limp and her body pooling at the baseboards. Josh grabbed on before her descent was complete.
"Whoa!" he said, snatched her into hi arms. "Never mind. Let me escort you."
"Escort?" she giggled. "I thought it was Sammy who liked hookers. How much is that gonna cost me?"
"We'll call this s freebie; you couldn't afford me." Josh placed his arm around Donna's waist and she puts hers over his shoulder as they made their way over to the couch. "You know, I feel it is my duty to give you a lecture on your current state. This is a most disreputable way to be traipsing around the Capital, Ms. Moss."
"Oh sure. Wanna ground me too?"
"I just may."
"You're. No. Fun," she slurred, poking him on each word: first in the chest, then his nose and finally missing his cheek all together as she stabbed the air before resting her head on his chest.
Josh sat Donna down on the couch and took the spot next to her. "Yeah, I'm dull. Okay, I have no clue if you understand me right now, but you're not going home. I mean, I don't think its safe to put you in a cab alone and I'm too tired to drive you myself so."
"What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing, I'm just tired and I'm not putting you in my car," he said. "I'm not taking chances with my leather seats."
"You know," she informed him, "I've been thinking about getting leather pants."
"Well, that's more information than I needed," he responded. "What do you think about going to bed?"
"Mmm," she purred and laid her head on his shoulder. "Sounds good to me, sexy."
Josh glanced down at Donna. "Well, okay, but I was thinking more of you going to sleep."
"Who needs sleep?" Donna argued. "I could be the life of a party right now!"
"You couldn't find a party right now if it fell in your lap," he countered.
"Okay," she grinned then flopped down, laying herself across his lap.
Josh looked down at her momentarily startled.
"Hi," she smiled, gazing into his confused brown eyes.
"How ya doin'?" he asked.
"I'm good, baby; how you doin'?" she asked with a seductive smile, which abruptly faded when she noticed his face. "Uh oh. It's that angry dimple again."
"I'm sorry? The what?"
"That," Donna explained and pointed to his right cheek. "The Angry Dimple."
"Wonderful," he said flatly. "Could you maybe sit up?"
"I'm comfy here," she grinned.
"Well, I'm not," he sighed. Josh slid out from underneath Donna and stood. He grabbed her arms, sat her up and pulled her to an upright position. Donna immediately placed her arms around his neck. "Okay, that's it. You're done for the night. Can you walk backward? What the hell, can't be any worse than forward right now, huh?"
"I don't have my pajamas," Donna told him.
"Uh, well, you can just sleep in your clothes," he replied as he removed her arms from his neck and turned her around. "Let's go. The bedroom is this way."
"Right."
"Left, actually," he corrected her.
"Right."
"Whatever," Josh relented and began slowly navigating her out of the living room and down the short hallway.
"Where are we going?" Donna asked.
"To bed," he said casually.
"Oh?" Donna then leaned back into Josh's chest and took his hands that were initially on her shoulders and moved them around her waist. Josh quickly returned them to their original position.
"I meant, you are going to bed," he clarified "Alone… In the bedroom… Again, alone."
"Party Pooper," she snorted.
"I've been called worse."
Donna let out a giggle. "You're cute."
"Really," Josh nodded, but not listening.
"You're a handsome man and you look very hot in this
color," Donna proclaimed and reached back to pluck at the collar of his
dark blue dress shirt
.
"Uh huh," Josh said unenthusiastically.
He carefully maneuvered his wobbly assistant through the bedroom door,
making certain that she didn't sway her body into the door. He released
her for a second to flicked on the light.
"Augh! Too bright!" she screamed and placed her arm over her eyes.
"Donna, you're covering your nose, not your eyes," Josh said as he switched off the light.
"Oh," she said and removed her limb. "Well, it's better in here so I don't need to cover them."
Josh maneuvered Donna through the dark room towards his bed. "Just don't trip on...."
Before he finished his sentence, Josh tripped over his shoes on the floor, accidentally shoving Donna face first onto his bed. Donna rolled over on her back in a fit of laughter.
"So long as you're enjoying this," he commented.
"You know something..." Donna began as she flung her shoes off, narrowly missing Josh.
"What?"
Donna slid back to the head of the bed. "Someday, you'll make a woman very happy."
"I make lots of women happy every day," he smirked.
"I need to be happy, Josh," she confessed.
Josh flipped on the bedside lamp, gauging for her reaction. When she didn't flinch, he sat down next to her. "You're not happy? You've got a good job and work with some important people...."
"Pish-Posh," she scoffed.
"Hey, now," he warned her, although his tone suggested levity. "Watch the language"
"Hey!" she shouted and pointed with an accusing finger. "Put that snarky dimple away..."
"Again with the..." he shook his head. "What do you do? Name everyone's body parts?"
"No. Just your dimples," she admitted, blushing slightly.
"Should I be worried or flattered?"
"I've named five of them so far," Donna divulged. "I name the expressions for them when they come out to play, but I haven't narrowed them all down just yet."
"As long as you keep yourself occupied," Josh smirked as he grabbed a blanket.
"Have to. I have no other life."
"Sorry about that," he apologized. "It's a temporary assignment though. You might have more time to yourself soon."
Donna slowly shook her head in disagreement. "Don't wanna. I like it."
"That's the spirit," Josh nodded. "You don't complain... much. I'll grant you that."
"I mean, where else could a college drop out work besides The Gap," she said. "Which, by the way, I got fired from because I could never fold the sweaters properly. Bunch of prissy snobs..."
Donna noticed that Josh's amused dimple made its presence. "You do crack me up, Donna."
"They only hired me because I was a leggy blonde..."
"Well, that's why I hired you"
"You did?"
"Well... No," Josh clarified. "You had the right
attitude. You're good at what you do, Donna. I know I don't say it
often enough,
but you're very important to me."
"I'm important to you?" she asked surprised.
"Of course," he reaffirmed. "I don't think anyone else could work with me the way you do. That's impressive."
"At least I'm impressive at the job level."
"Don't get maudlin, Donna," Josh warned. "It's beneath you."
"You gonna tuck me in?" she asked with a suggestive raise of her eyebrows.
"I.... I don't think so," he said.
"Tell me a bedtime story?" Donna's eyelids started to feel heavy.
"I could read you the playbook for the convention," Josh teased, and then looked at her. "Donna? Donna?"
Josh saw that Donna had finally succumbed to her evening and passed out. He brushed some wayward strands of hair from her face and covered her up. He gently rose from the bead and made his way to the door, taking one last look back at the woman laying in his bed. With a forceful sigh and a hand running through his hair, he made his way to the living room and the briefing memos that awaited him.
********************
The bright Saturday sun streamed through the slats of the blinds of the apartment bedroom. One errant ray landed on the lids of Donnatella Moss. Donna moaned and turned her head to the side and forced her eyes to open, begging for her eyes to focus...focus on anything. When her eyes finally comply, they settled on the night stand and a very familiar phone and pager came into view.
"What the hell...?" she asked groggily.
The water from the bathroom ceased and Josh, dressed in jeans and a blue sweater emerged. "It lives."
"Barely," she moaned. "I think I'd be better if I could take my head off. Where am I?"
Josh looked at her astonished. "Honeymoon suite at the Mayflower. What you don't remember?"
"What?!" she screamed and then pressed her hands to her head to try and stop the incessant throbbing. "Ow..."
"I guess you really don't remember," he snickered. "Well, this is my apartment, my bedroom to be specific. Need further orientation? Okay, out the window you will see our nation's capital; it is located on the east coast near...
The shock on Donna's face caused Josh's grin to deepen. She buried her face in her hands and moaned. "Oh dear god. What did I do?"
"What didn't you do, is a better question," Josh responded and made his way to the bed. He sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. "Oh what a night."
"Oh my god... Tell me that I didn't... that we didn't..." Donna's already ashen face blanched with terror.
"Have a most interesting conversation, why yes we did," he confessed.
"What?"
"And you say I have a sensitive system," Josh pointed out. "You were in a disgraceful state when Heckle and Jeckyl dumped you on my door step as drunk as Lord Marbury on a.... well, on any day I suppose...."
"What are you saying?" Donna looked at him.
"Oh, you had quite a bit to say last night," Josh began leaning against the headboard. "I fought off your advances as much as I could, but in the end, you were stronger than I was.... I mean, a frail, innocent like myself up against your wily ways. I stood no chance really...."
Donna groaned
.
"It's okay," Josh laughed. "You passed out
in here. I slept on the couch."
"So nothing happened?" she asked as the color slowly returned to her cheeks. "That's wonderful!"
"Contain your enthusiasm or I'll sic a dimple on you."
"A what?"
"I mean, you'll have to name it," Josh grinned. "Or add it to the list of those still needing names."
"No. No, no, no," Donna moaned. "Please, oh please tell me I didn't..."
"You crack me up," he whispered in her ear.
Donna flopped back down on the bed, the redness in her cheeks turning a deep crimson. "Ow! My head."
"Take it easy," he warned her. "You had a rough night."
Donna pulled the covers over her head. "I think I know what it feels like to spontaneously combust. I've never gotten that drunk before."
"Well, you have now," Josh replied. "And, let me just say, for what it's worth, whoever he is, he's not worth it."
"He who?" Donna questioned.
"He, the guy, the reason you embalmed yourself for the evening," Josh said, waving his hand in her general direction.
Donna flung the covers off and sat up quickly. She closed her eyes and grabbed Josh's shoulders to control the spinning in her head. "I said what, precisely?"
"Calm down," he soothed, patting her hands. "I have a pretty high security clearance so whatever you said is safe with me. Really."
"Josh, what did I say to you?" she implored.
"Donna, I honestly couldn't tell you," Josh declared. "I wasn't paying that close attention. I was more concerned with getting you some place where you could pass out. I'm glad they dropped you off here though. You were in no shape to be left alone."
Donna sighed with relief. "Oh well, in that case..."
"Why? Who is he?"
"Nobody," she lied.
"Well, it's somebody," he continued, pressing her further.
"I just needed to relax," Donna explained, silently begging him to switch subjects. At this point, she'd settle for his relentless teasing. "I guess I got too relaxed. With everything recently..."
"You can tell me it's none of my business," Josh said, rising from the bed. "I mean, I won't accept that as a real answer, but it's more honest than lying."
Donna looked at Josh with a straight face. "Josh, it's not for you to concern yourself over."
"Okay," he relented. "You think you're gonna live?"
"Yeah, just turn off the light, will you?" she begged motioning towards her left.
"They rescinded my power to extinguish the sun."
"Damn," Donna groaned and then gently laid back down, taking the covers with her.
"Were you thinking of going to work today or were you just going to laze around until your hang over wore off?" he requested.
Donna dropped the covers enough so her eyes could glare at him. "Work? What day is it?"
"Saturday," Josh informed her, glancing at his watch. "I have a teleconference with the Midwest finance team in 40 minutes."
"I've gotta get home," Donna said. She threw the covers off her body and bolted out of bed. The room suddenly began to rotate in her head.
Josh grasped her elbow to steady Donna, who had begun to rock on her feet. "Hey, easy! Take it slow."
"I need to go home," she said slowly as the room stopped spinning. "Wait, I've have to find a way home first."
"Can you work?"
"I'm feeling not so good," she paused. "Yeah, I can work, but I think I'll be a little late."
"You can make up the time tomorrow," he smirked as he released her elbow. He grabbed his pager and cell from the night stand. "I'm heading out. There's coffee in the kitchen.... Donna? Donna?"
When he turned around, he found that Donna had crawled back into Josh's bed. A slender hand snaked its way from underneath and waved good-bye.
Josh shook his head and left the room, slamming his bedroom door with good measure. Donna moaned and fell back asleep.
*****************
"Did I hear right?" Sam asked, poking his head into CJ's office.
"Depends on what you heard and who you heard it from and....," she paused and looked up from her computer screen. "You know, I'd like one day where I didn't have to answer open-ended questions."
"Why is that?" Sam asked with a smirk as he wandered into her office. His mirth faded quickly as her glare intensified. "Earl Brennan. He was here to see Leo? That's not about the..."
"No," CJ said, waving off the anticipated question about the campaign. "Gillette has nothing to do with it. He's here about Ryan."
"Who?"
"Moira Ryan," C.J. said as she returned to her keys. "The former United States Ambassador to Ireland."
"What about her?"
"She's the former United States Ambassador to Ireland," CJ said again flatly. "Yesterday evening, she announced she would need to be relieved of her duties."
"Why?" Sam asked. "The ever-volitile relationship between America and the Emerald Isle pushed her over the edge? The rain getting too much for her? Perhaps the Waterford crystal at the last embassy function was no longer up to snuff?"
"She was diagnosed with breast cancer," CJ said sternly. "She's checking into the Dana Farber Clinic early next week to begin treatment; the tumor is... advanced."
"Oh," Sam said, chastened. "And Brennan?"
"He's on the list of possible replacements," CJ responded.
"That would leave his seat open," Sam surmised. "He was going to face a challenge, a tough one, in his district. This could be good. If we put a more...."
"I don't care," CJ said. "Sam, I'm sort of the in the middle of something. Could you maybe go have a political orgasm about this with Toby or Josh?"
"Orgasm?" Sam inquired. "What exactly did you study for politics in school, anyway?"
"Sam."
"I'm going," he said, putting up his hands in defeat. "Earl Brennan?"
"Yeah."
"Josh must be happy."
"He was talking with Leo about it when I left them," CJ said. "Apparently Donna had had enough of it."
"How's that?" Sam asked, turning suddenly and halting his exit.
"She was at her desk and literally looked sick," CJ continued. "I can only imagine it was because Josh was being... Josh. It has yet to make me physically ill, but I can tell you there have been times when I came close. Then again, he let her come in late."
"Why?"
"I don't know," CJ said looking up from her screen. "Something about a late night and anatomy or something. I didn't really listen. He seemed to be in a lively mood so I considered it best not to ask."
*****************
Josh left his office and headed to Donna's desk. Her Saturday, which as usual was strikingly like a weekday, was nearly over. The clock had taken its sweet time since she arrived around 11 a.m. She foolishly thought Josh might remember the word compassion. Instead, he spent his free-time, of which there as plenty during the lunch hour, assuaging his juvenile delinquent tendencies by summoning her to his office for nothing, shouting her name to get her attention needlessly and then retelling her the tale of her admissions the night before. The hangover was the only part of the day more annoying that Josh himself. It's not that he was more aggravating that usual, she realized, but that she had nothing to throw back at him or defend herself with. Josh had had his own evening follies in the past but never seemed bothered by them for more than an hour into the work day--as if work itself was the tonic that cured all ills.
He is a freak, Donna decided and settled back into her desk to finish the background compilation on Earl Brennan Josh wanted so he could smooth things over with the appropriate people and make the State Department happy. To that end, he had one meeting that evening. He needed only get through an informal discussion with Senator Peter Ross on some obscure but vexing bill floating in some committee Donna could not recall then finish the Brennan thing. After that, she could go home and sleep and escape the amused look on Josh's face.
"What's up?" he asked innocently, appearing at her desk yet again.
Donna glared at Josh. "Josh, you're going to be late for your meeting with Senator Ross."
Before he could respond, Zoey Bartlet arrived. She bounded into the room grinning for ambiguous reasons.
"Hi," she said brightly. "I'm looking for my mother. Have either of you seen her?"
"She's not here," Josh told her.
"Really," she rolled her eyes. "Wow, Josh. No wonder you're so important."
"I have Ross now?" he turned to Donna.
Donna picked up a folder from a rack on her desk and handed it to the Deputy. "Yes. In the Mural Room."
"Great," he sighed, taking the folder. "Donna. Zoey."
"Josh," Zoey giggled as she mocked his suddenly serious tone.
Donna sighed in relief as he departed. She rested her elbows on her desk then placed her head in her hands and sighed. "Thank god."
"What was he doing now?"
"What isn't he doing?" Donna groaned. "On top of everything else, it's April. I'm just waiting for him to start in on the anniversary that isn't."
"The what?" Zoey asked. "Oh, you mean from when you left and then came back; he still does that?"
"Yes," Donna said. "He may have finally forgotten so I would appreciate it if you did nothing to remind him."
Zoey shook her head
"No," Zoey promised. "I wouldn't. That was so sad--when you left, I mean. Josh was no fun for a while. He was cranky, like he got dumped at the prom or something."
"Josh acted like he got dumped?" Donna asked as she started transcribing notes. "Well, it wasn't like that. It was sweet of him to take me back like he did; which is why it is so infuriating for him to go through his stupid little snarky revenge every year. He's such a... a..."
"Sweetheart?" Zoey offered.
"Child!" Donna snapped, stabbing at the keys.
"Yeah, I guess so," Zoey agreed. "But he did miss you. He wouldn't hire anyone to replace you. Leo told him to get someone at least a hundred times. That's one thing I just don't get. Leo is like this mentor for Josh, but he doesn't listen to him all that often does he?"
"When it suits him he does," Donna smirked.
"Usually people who do that don't go far in a place like this," Zoey observed.
"True," Donna concurred. "But Josh is not usual. He's not a bad person; I mean, he can be very sweet when he isn't being Politician Man, one of the lessor known super heroes."
Donna's assessment was met by a round of giggles from Zoey.
"Don't tell him I said those things," she warned Zoey, who giggled again. "He's behind me right now, isn't he?"
"What?" Zoey asked. "No, it's just funny. The way you pretend and all. Both of you. It's like watching a play. You both have your lines down almost perfectly."
"Pretend?" Donna asked as her brows crinkled in confusion. "I'm not following."
"Come on," Zoey protested, sitting on the corner of Donna's desk. "I'm not dense, Donna. I mean I can see it. Everyone can. You like Josh."
"What?! I do not."
"I think it's cute," Zoey grinned.
A rosy shade filled Donna's cheeks. "Zoey... I ... I mean... you're so off the charts here."
"Oh, you don't need to fake it with me," the Presidents youngest daughter proclaimed. "There's no reason to be embarrassed. I mean he likes you, too, in his own weird way. I don't know why you don't just ask him out."
"He does not like me," Donna pointed out. "He is my boss. And I'm not going to ask him out."
"You should," Zoey continued. "He'll never find the words to ask you. You can tell that he's that way. It's up to you to make the first move. So what if he's your boss?"
"So what?" Donna protested. "You do remember where we work? It wouldn't look right. Besides, he'd laugh and say no anyway."
"He'd probably drop dead of a heart attack," Zoey grinned. "Too much pent up sexual tension being tapped into all at once. It might kill him."
"Zoey! Don't say that out loud."
"What? About the sexual tension?"
"Shh!"
"Like its not the first time you heard it," Zoey replied, noticing that the shade in Donna's cheek grew redder. "Donna, please. I'm not a child. I can sense it between the two of you."
"Josh has a certain belligerent charm and he's handsome in his own way," Donna admitted. "I suppose a few women around here think he's...."
Zoey nodded in agreement. "Yeah, some of them. But you most of all."
"It's a casual observation, that's all," Donna pointed out.
"Oh wow."
"What?"
Zoey's smile grew wider at her latest discovery. "I didn't think it was like that."
"Like what?" Donna asked as she resumed her typing.
"I mean, I thought it was just curiosity," Zoey admitted. "You work together in intense moments and with some really involved stuff. I never realized you liked him liked him. I mean, this is deep like, isn't it? Wow. That's so cool."
Donna stood at walked to the file cabinet. "Zoey, it's nothing. Josh and I don't have a thing."
"So you call it a thing already?" Zoey asked, facing her.
"No," Donna said defensively.
Zoey scanned Donna's desk area. "Has he given you flowers this year for your anniversary yet?"
"Thankfully, not."
"Maybe he'll take you to dinner this time."
Donna returned to her desk and emphatically sat down. "We don't have time for dinner, unless it's takeout and it's being eaten at his desk."
"Cozy, private and intimate," Zoey continued.
"Zoey."
"You go to his place sometimes, don't you?" Zoey asked.
Donna nodded. "On occasion, yes. But it's for work."
Zoey crossed her arms in disbelief. "Sure. No one else in this building works like that. Leo is the busiest of all of you and he doesn't usually take work home and if he does, Margaret doesn't go with him. Do you have a key to his apartment?"
"Leo's?"
"No, Josh."
"Yes," Donna sighed. "I have it because of what happened a few...."
"He didn't ask for it back?" Zoey asked.
"No, but a lot has happened to him," Donna said. "He probably just forgot."
"All right!" Zoey exclaimed, clapping her hands. "Wow, this is so exciting. Can I be a bridesmaid? Please. I was a flower girl in Liz's wedding and no one else ever asked me to be in theirs. I want to be the maid of honor. Can I?"
Donna threw her hands up and rolled her chair back. "Whoa, back the truck up. Josh and I are not getting married. We are not dating.."
"You have a thing," Zoey corrected.
"No thing. Sorry."
"I'm not sorry," Zoey smiled. "I think it's so cute. I mean, you two found each other in the middle of the craziness of a presidential campaign. You are from thousands of miles apart, different backgrounds. It's so romantic."
"No offense here, Zoey," she grumbled, "but what is it going to take to change subjects?"
Zoey shook her head. "I can go have this conversation with Josh when he's done his meeting if you prefer."
Donna quickly rolled forward and grabbed Zoey's arm. "NO! You stay right here. Or better yet, your mother's in the Mess with Leo... No, stay right here."
"I think green, a deep green, would be a good shade," Zoey said out loud to herself.
"For what?"
Zoey looked at Donna with a wink. "My Maid-of-Honor dress for your wedding."
"Oh god, tell me this isn't happening," Donna groaned as she buried her face in her hands.
Zoey continued with the torture. "I would say you should write your own vows, but I bet Josh would get Sam to do it for him."
Donna moaned.
"Where would be a good place for a honeymoon?" she thought. "I can help you with picking that, too. Something tropical--I mean, with a December wedding and all, you're gonna want to go some place where there is sun."
Donna looked up. "December?"
"Of course it will be December," Zoey scoffed. "Congress is out of session then. Josh won't have much to do. He can take time off without bellyaching too much."
"Zoey, please."
"Tahiti"
"Tahiti?"
"Yes." Zoey nodded. "That's where you should go--Tahiti. It's tropical and beautiful and peaceful. No one to bother you. No business of state to get you out of bed at dawn."
"Zoey, please..."
"Take a lot of pictures, okay," Zoey requested. When she saw Donna's eyes grow large, she clarified. "I mean, I'm gonna want to see the island."
"I'm not going to Tahiti in December," Donna stated emphatically. "I'm not going anywhere in December."
"And let me be the first to suggest Zoey Patricia as a name," Zoey continued, ignoring Donna's diatribe
"A name for what?"
"For your baby."
"WHAT?!" Donna screamed. Everyone in Operations turned to look at her. Donna casually waved them back to their duties and lowered her voice. "Zoey, that's crazy."
"No, your babies will be so adorable," she countered. "I'll baby sit."
"Josh and I are not having babies,' Donna denied. "We are not getting married. We are not dating. End of story."
Zoey cocked her head to the side, deep in thought. "I don't see him getting down on one knee and proposing; not Josh's style. I hope he knows how to pick out a diamond."
"I'm not his type," Donna said, with a hint of sadness in her voice.
"And his type is what, according to you, the future Mrs. Lyman?" Zoey smirked.
Donna sat back in her chair and pushed her hair behind her shoulder. "Okay, first of all, I'm not the future Mrs. Lyman. He needs someone who's intelligent, educated, with a little twist in their sense of humor."
"But not someone who's the female version of him," Zoey added. "That's why it didn't work out between him and Joey Lucas or he and Amy Gardner or...."
Josh entered the bullpen. "Donna, where are the numbers from the last audit on the thing?"
Donna stood and went to the filing cabinet. "Hold on."
"Josh, who around here is smart and a little twisted when it comes to their sense of humor?" Zoey asked pointedly.
"You mean besides Donna?" he smirked, taking the folder from Donna's hands and returned to his meeting.
Zoey looked at Donna with a confident smile, proving her point.
"That's not fair," she argued.
"All's fair in love and war," Zoey shot back.
"War I'll give you," she conceded, "but love? No way."
"Well, I think anyone who knows Josh can see," Zoey said standing. She walked over to a side table and glanced at Donna's pictures. "I mean, even if they couldn't, how jealous he gets of whomever you start seeing is proof enough."
"That's not jealousy," Donna pointed out closing the file drawer. "That's him being him."
Zoey picked up a picture of Donna and Josh that sat on the corner of Donna's desk. "Kind of like when he prevents you from dating someone else."
"That's Josh being juvenile."
Zoey showed Donna the picture. "He's just looking out for the mother of his children, that's all."
Donna snatched the picture out of Zoey's hands and placed it back in its location.
"Can't you just imagine them?" Zoey sang, twirling around. "Little blond children with dimples..."
"No I cannot picture them," she said shortly.
"Sure you can"
"I'm not going to," she snipped.
Zoey nodded in agreement. "Yeah, just keep your mind on Tahiti. I mean, you're gonna want to enjoy that time together. Because once the children arrive, it's gonna be hectic."
"I am not going to enjoy the time in Tahiti because..."
"You want to jump right in and have the children right off?" Zoey exclaimed, eyes widening. "Yeah, I can see that. It's not like you two need to get used to each other or anything."
"Let me say this again:" Donna said, pointing a finger at her. "We are not having children; we are not getting married; we are doing nothing."
Zoey chuckled at how defensive Donna was getting. "I'll be your Lamaz coach too, if you need one. There's no chance Josh can handle that."
"Will anything make you stop?" she sighed.
"Tell me I will be a part of your wedding and I'll let this drop until I see your ring," she demanded, the sound of her voice matching the smile on her lips.
Donna threw up her hands in defeat. "Fine."
"Zoey, do you attend college at all?" Josh asked as he returned, a scowl spread across his face that signaled a not-so-successful meeting.
Zoey winked at Donna. "I do."
She then left with a small skip down the hall humming the strains of "Here Comes the Bride." Donna leaned down on her desk and buried her head in her arms.
"Do I even want to ask?" Josh said as he watched the youngest Bartlet leave.
"Please don't."
"I have to...."
"No, really you don't," she argued.
"What was she talking about?" he continued. "She and Charlie aren't...."
"No, nothing like that," she completed his thought.
"Good," he nodded. "They're too young and he's too busy. Besides, I don't need those kind of complications in my campaign."
"You think so? Well, see, that's where you're wrong."
"What?"
"Not everybody is too young to get married, Josh," she pointed out.
"Like who?" Josh asked, taking a seat on the corner of her desk.
"Like me.. .like you," she pointed out.
"You and I aren't too young to get married?" he smirked and then noticed that Donna started to get flush. "Donna, do you feel okay? You look all... red...."
"I feel fine," she declared as she returned to her typing.
Josh placed a hand on her shoulder, looking concerned. "You sure?"
"Yeah," she replied, briefly touching his hand.
"Okay," he smiled, standing. "I've got to call Raj Patel over at State; I can't take any other calls, okay? And, while I'm doing this, I need whatever you can find on tourism and the South Pacific; pool data on airfares, travel trends, whatever. Pick a couple islands."
"What ones?"
"A couple of the Polynesians, the Society Islands," he said casually. "Bora Bora, Tahiti, like that."
Donna's mouth suddenly became dry. "T-Ta-…Tahiti? Uh, why?"
Josh stopped at his doorway and turned towards her. "Senator Ross and the whole air travel thing I just was in a meeting about. You know, the pricing wars that some loud lobbyists want the President to regulate. He said something about those and supply and demand formulas that was the biggest load of bull I've had thrown my way since the NRA denounced trigger locks. Donna, are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm okay," she replied with a nervous laugh. "Just thought you were treating me to a vacation, that's all."
"You do this, help me sew up the election and I'll take you anywhere on the planet," he smiled.
"Don't get my hopes up, Joshua," Donna rolled her eyes.
"I never break my promises to you," he declared.
"You don't," she smiled. "Besides, what fun would it be to go on an island vacation alone?"
"Huh?"
"The supposed trip you're promising me if we win both the nomination and the election," Donna reiterated.
"If I'm sending you some place on my bank account, I'll be going, too," Josh informed her.
"You will not go," she disagreed with a smirk. "I think taking a vacation will kill you. And then you'll be of no use to me then."
"You have uses for me?" he smirked. "Donna, really, fantasies are nice and all, but this is a place of serious business..."
"Josh."
The Deputy grinned and pointed inside his office. "I'm gonna go in here now. In about an hour, get us dinner, okay?"
"Which take out place tonight?" she asked.
"Surprise me."
"On my salary, get ready for McDonalds."
"Whatever," he called. "And keep May 15 open--we're all going to the thing for Brennan and I'm going to need you there for some running. Oh, and we're not going to Manchester for the 4th this year."
"Because of the convention?"
"No, because of renovations," Josh said. "President is having work done at the farm and they're gonna be up to their eyes in construction debris."
"So, I'm free that weekend?"
"No," Josh replied. "We're all doing a final group war room for the convention."
"Where?"
"Camp David," Josh said with a mild groan.
Up Next, Chapter 19:
The White Knight Syndrome