Title: It Was Never The History She Remembered
Author: Sharon
Spoilers: Season Four and before
Disclaimers: Main players Amy, Josh, Donna, but everyone gets at least a mention, none of them are however mine, and that's says it all really
Archive: J/D archive yes—if you want it, anyone else, I'm not likely to say no, but please ask
Summary: He never loved her, and she's only now realising this
Paring: It would spoil things for me to tell you, but see notes below
Acknowledgements: Simply for Christine, for being a great online friend and taking the time to worry, and you know, beta this g Thank you for being the spectacular person that you are
Notes: Since I'm constantly asking people to please state whether their fic has angst and as such, does the angst lead to a happy ending for J/D, it's only fair that I warn you. This is an angst fic (or at least my attempt at a mild one). I won't reveal how it plays out since some of you may wish to read without prior knowledge, but if you feel you can't read this unless you know, scroll down to the end, there are notes revealing the POV & pairing
This is the first in a series of angst fics related from different point-of-views
Feedback: Is always appreciated.
It Was Never The History She Remembered
~*~
Her heart hurts.
She's watching him fall in love with her all over again and thinks maybe, just maybe, he never stopped loving her. She watches him watch her, and realises it's different now. He knows how he feels; he knows and he's still falling. That's the kind of power she has over him.
She's not the only one to notice. Others around him have grasped the fact that he's in love and he now knows it. She's the only one who hasn't. She doesn't see how he watches her, how he literally radiates happiness in her presence. She doesn't see the twinkle in his eye when he teases her, or the bounce in his step as he thinks of her, or the smile that remains long after she's left him to finish her work. She doesn't see how he pays careful attention when a new man approaches her, afraid that maybe he's about to lose his chance. Terrified that she may have loved him once, only he was too blind to see it, and now, she has moved on.
He's careful to hide the fact that he's watching. The casual observer would hardly notice, but if you study him closely, if you know him, it's not hard to tell.
And because she knows him, her heart hurts.
She realises this other woman came back into his life on a whole new level with a bang. Except, she never left.
She wants to be angry with him for playing with her feelings. This thing they had, it made her fall in love with him. She wants to scream because she thinks he may have known it could never work between them, yet he allowed himself to indulge in the pursuit of her simply because it wouldn't work.
She isn't what he wants. She never was.
She kicks herself for not following her instincts, for not listening to the doubt in her mind about his fidelity-- she knew he'd be true to her in the physical sense, she just didn't think to question his emotional availability. She saw them together, heard fragments about the chemistry between them, saw his continued efforts to keep her in his life. She knew of the bond they shared, and yet felt that she could break it; he let her believe that she could break it.
He flirted with her, let others help in his pursuit of her. She loved being chased by him; it made her feel like the most desirable woman in the world. He didn't chase women; they chased him. He even has his own fan club and despite teasing remarks from his friends, his fan club doesn't only consist of college girls.
She was with another man when he realised he wanted her. The question that haunts her now is did he want her? Why did he choose her? She knows the answer of course, she was convenient: the person who would occupy him until he could rationalise his feelings for the other woman in his life. She didn't realise what he was doing, and if she's honest with herself, neither did he. In fact, he still doesn't. He's falling head-over-heels and he doesn't realise what this year has meant for him.
*
She's watching him watch her.
It's late and everyone's tired, including her, but she watches him watch the other woman in his life fight to convince her opponent of her views. She feels passionate about this and her opponent just can't stop seeming to take her in, fascinated by how she can glow at this hour simply because she believes in her argument. A look of something clouds his features as he watches this other man become enamoured by her. She's realised that he knows as soon as this meeting is over, this new man will ask for his assistant's number. And he's afraid she'll give it to him.
She's knows he's waiting. Waiting for just one clue that she feels even half of what he feels for her. He knows in her own way, she's told him before. It was clear to everyone what she was saying, and yet, he somehow managed to miss it. Or maybe he did know what she was saying and was just afraid to make the next move: to put his heart on the line. Maybe he didn't know how to make the next move. Whatever his excuse, he didn't do anything and he's afraid he's lost his chance. He knows one thing for certain, they've both grown older, more guarded, skilful at hiding their feelings, even from themselves. They've both been here before and gotten hurt. Any clues she may leave about her feelings for him will be well hidden.
And he'll be watching.
*
She's watching him, has done so ever since she came to work for the First Lady, and she's come to realise that he doesn't care who knows how he feels. He has no desire to hide from his feelings for his assistant. He's become increasingly obvious and yet, it took her a while to figure out that no matter what, she couldn't win him back. She always thought she could. She realises their relationship was far from perfect, but she fell in love with him, and that has to count for something.
Four months of being together couldn't have meant nothing, especially considering this is Josh Lyman, the man who's longest relationship in the past five years was two weeks at the most.
Four months becoming a couple. It can't have meant nothing.
Belatedly she sees, or perhaps by intention she failed to acknowledge, that it was also four months of arguing about the latest way in which the administration was selling out the Constituency of Women. Four months of fighting over how he should do more to help women, and how she should try to work with, rather than against the administration. Four months of broken promises, arguments about spending more time together, moving in, lost trust, incredulity in how the other could hold their beliefs. She's not even sure if they ever made love. She hopes that they did, but now all she can remember is the make up sex. She doesn't remember just falling asleep in his arms, only that he would join her after he finished work.
She's asking herself that if they never made love, how could she let herself fall in love with him? But again, she doesn't delve to deep for the answer; it would only provide confirmation of her worst fears.
When they first broke up, she was angry with him for not considering her future, for selling her out. He put his job before her and that hurt. He put the administration before her. She wonders now if he would ever put the administration or his job before his assistant. She doesn't think he would.
After the anger subsided, she was left feeling empty; it took her a while to come to terms with missing him. And in pursuing him again, she was faced with another truth: whatever the relationship between them meant to him, it in no way compared to how she felt. She was more invested—she may not have shown it, in fact, the casual observer would have thought that he was the one to keep the relationship alive for as long as it had existed, but they'd be wrong.
It meant more to her.
And she's only now realising why it didn't mean more to him.
She accepted the position of the First Lady's Chief of Staff because it came with a certain amount of power and respect. She's realised he doesn't think much of her political acumen anymore. No one in the administration does. She wanted to prove that she can play at his level, but she's realising that he doesn't care. And even if he did, nothing she's done during her tenure as Abbey's Chief of Staff has made him change his mind. If anything, he respects her less.
He never thought that much of her political expertise. She and the First Lady are women who are exceptional in their relative fields, she as a fundraiser and The First Lady as a doctor, but neither in his mind have the skill necessary to succeed in his world.
She wants to prove him wrong for all kinds of reasons, not the least of which is because she's watching him and he's oblivious.
*
She can see that until he knows for sure, he won't make a move; he won't let his assistant know what she means to him. He's been here before and got hurt. More than anything he's terrified of losing her. Terrified that the way he feels will push her away, not bring them together. It's doubt speaking and he knows it; he doesn't know why or how, but he has an instinctual feeling that she'll be receptive to how he feels. He doesn't know what he'd do if she moved on with someone else and so selfishly, he doesn't care if his assistant remains single her entire life, he doesn't care that they may not move their relationship to the next level. As long as she's with him, as long as they continue to orbit each other, he can live with that. But he wants more for her, for them, and so, he waits, for that perfect opportunity to present itself.
She decides that this may be her final chance to entice him back to her. She's decided she's not a quitter and she won't stand back and watch him slowly walk away without a fight. She still has a chance. She walks into the West Wing uninvited and walks with purpose toward his office, intent on taking him out to dinner. She almost enters when she hears his laughter float through. It's mingled with CJ's and Will's. She's about to knock when she hears Donna. She hears the absolute pride and adoration in Josh's voice as he regales how Donna won over a particularly difficult Senator to vote with them. She hears Donna's modesty and CJ's gloating at being the perfect teacher.
Increasingly, all of the Senior Staff are adding to Donna's responsibilities, taking time to mentor her, building her confidence. She's being groomed to move on. She's become quite adept at taking meetings, discussing and writing policy, delivering the smack down. All the skills she's learnt over the years from Josh, CJ, Toby and even Leo, she's being taught how to put them into practice, to use them against Senators and Congressmen or women, to use them to push the administrations agenda forward. And she's doing well.
When they want someone to talk to the First Lady, it's not Josh or CJ they send; it's Donna. And Amy has no idea what has been said behind those closed doors, only that the First Lady has changed her stance on three separate occasions, ordering Amy not to sink a bill, but instead to work with Josh to further her agenda.
Amy listens to the group of friends talk about someone named Gail—she isn't really paying attention to the conversation but rather watching Josh and Donna through the slightly ajar door. They're sitting together behind his desk. His shoulder almost always touching hers, fries strategically placed to his right so that her body covers his every time she reaches for one. He doesn't swat away her hands but instead grins. He's watching her and this time Donna knows.
Something's changed.
They both know now. They're just waiting for the right time.
Amy knocks now because she needs to see if her presence will have an effect on them, on him; she desperately needs to know. She's spent the last year wanting to get back together with him and she's seeing that chance slip away.
She needs to know.
Josh smiles and invites her in, CJ and Will both say polite 'hello's.' She notices with a little satisfaction that Donna's 'hello' and smile are both strained. She feels hope for a second; if Donna feels threatened by her then maybe she still has a chance. But one look at Josh kills that thought.
He knows how Donna feels now, he's just waiting for the right time; everything else doesn't matter. Donna, on the other hand, is just realising the fact that she loves him; she always has, she just never knew. She needs the words, or at least a gesture from Josh, to show unequivocally he's hers.
Amy can't help herself, she asks Josh to join her outside for a moment. She sees the look hiding behind Donna's fake smile and rejoices a little. She doesn't necessarily want to hurt Donna, but she needs some control over what's happening.
She isn't the only one to notice. Josh smiles down at Donna as he stands to leave, he squeezes her shoulder and lets his hand linger as long as possible, and as he walks past something is communicated, she's just not sure what. By the look on her face, neither is Donna.
Just as they walk out, the phone rings and so Josh holds back for a second. A huge smile spreads across Donna's face as she lets everyone know she's talking to Toby. Instantly, CJ and Will get up, eager to listen to the news.
Andi's had the twins.
Josh almost runs to the phone, placing his arm around Donna's waist, silently telling her not to move. She beams at him while he talks to Toby, and Amy just watches.
They immediately disperse. CJ leaves to do her last briefing early. There are no pressing matters to attend to, so Will just gets his coat, figuring he'll come back to the office later. Josh leaves to notify Leo and the President, both of whom won't be able to leave to see the children, but no doubt will want photographs until the children can come see them.
And Donna. She tidies the mess the four friends created eating their dinner. Amy notices that she puts on Josh's coat instead of her own, but doesn't question why. She wants to, she wants the answer, but she's afraid of what it might be. Once Donna's locked Josh's office, she waits in the Operations bullpen. Amy stares at the locked door, becoming conscious of the fact that before she took the job with Abbey, Josh's office was almost never locked; he doesn't trust her, none of them do.
Amy hasn't made a move to leave and neither woman knows what to do.
Will comes bustling in with two huge stuffed toys in the form of a goat, his explanation that he thought it'd be funny to see a goat in Toby's house. He watches Amy and asks if she'll be joining them. She really has no reason to go. She's not friends with either Toby or Congresswoman Wyatt, professional acquaintances at best. Her friendship with CJ is again an exaggerated rumour she has no idea how or when it started. This feels like a family affair, but she's not part of the family. And yet, she finds herself saying yes. She watches the Senior Staff walk out of the bullpen toward the lobby, and she's entirely focussed on Josh's hand hovering over the small of Donna's back. She's reminded of another night where she trailed Josh and CJ, drunk and spouting unimportant bits of information in a very short red dress, because Josh likes women in red with long legs. And she feels more naked now than she did then.
They're in the parking lot, about to move toward their cars when Charlie comes running with a present for the twins. He follows Josh and Donna toward Josh's car while CJ and Will takes hers. Amy's left torn, not knowing which direction to go, when Will offers her a ride.
They arrive at the hospital and once again she's wondering what she's doing here. Andi is being checked by her doctors while the twins are in the nursery being monitored. Toby, bouncing with excitement, meets them, exhausted, torn between remaining with his wife and being with his children. CJ, Will, Charlie and Amy remain in the waiting room near Andi while Toby leads Josh and Donna to watch over his children so he can care for their mother.
Released from 'Andi' duty, the rest of the gang wander off to meet the newest members of their small world, and as they arrive, they see both babies in Donna's arms, smiling at the faces she's making. But Amy sees Josh, with his arms around Donna, hugging her close, his head resting on her shoulder, and a look of pure contentment on his face as he watches the children react to the woman in his arms.
The moment's ruined as CJ rushes in to meet her new niece and nephew. She watches Josh stand back and take in the scene, his friends showing genuine happiness at the arrival of these precious gifts. Donna and CJ sing lullabies in hushed tones, grinning at the happy, squirming children in their arms. She watches him gravitate toward Donna, finally standing with his arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest and she wonders what he's thinking; she knows he is. She can read it in his eyes and it dawns on her that he's picturing his future and she's not in it.
Amy watches Josh pull Donna aside and caress her arm as he talks to her. She watches him stumble through his words and Donna's curious look in response. But then something changes; he's found the words. Her face holds a tentative smile as he grins from ear-to-ear at what he's about to do.
He caresses her arm and her breathing changes; she knows. He leans forward and places a sweet, innocent kiss on her lips; her hands come to rest on his chest as she pulls him to her and deepens their hold on each other just a touch. He's smiling, his dimples out in full force, and she can't help but smile back, in awe of what she's feeling.
Amy just stands back and wishes she had this moment with him. They never had a moment like this, the kisses they shared never held this kind of intimacy.
They never had anything like this.
Because in one kiss, he told Donna he loves her.
In one kiss, he told her that he's always loved her.
And her heart hurts, because she was never the one he loved.
The End.
For those who cannot read without knowing…
This is written in third person relating Amy's POV. Amy is working for the First Lady, and is discovering she's in love with Josh. This is an exploration of how she'd feel watching J/D become a couple.
Enjoy.
