POV: Donna
Spoilers: None
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: These characters, except for John Thomas, are not mine.
All the Way - Chapter Five A West Wing Story
by MAHC
Flames danced in the fireplace, warming the room both physically and emotionally. Soft music floated from the CD player and two drinks waited patiently on the coffee table. All that was left now was the arrival of the person for whom this preparation had been done. Donna stood by the bed, fidgeting a little, not sure what she wanted to accomplish, except letting him know it was all right. She resisted the urge to gulp down the scotch. He might need it. She certainly would.
Her attention focused on the music, following the words in her head. The choice was not random, but a carefully thought-out selection that would help her convey her feelings; that would convince him of her devotion - regardless of what their future held. She had heard it just the day before on a public radio salute to the crooners and found the classic message perfect. Margaret had been sent on the mission to pick it up. Now she hoped it fulfilled her goal.
With the magic of technology, someone had created a duet between Celine Dion and Frank Sinatra. Breaching the seemingly impossible barriers of time, their voices entwined to the strains of "All the Way," a song that promised commitment, that offered total devotion and steadfastness. It was what she wanted to say to him, what she wanted him to know he would always have from her.
The door opened tentatively, drawing her thoughts back. That in itself was unusual, a departure from his accustomed fling-and-stride entrances. Instead, he eased in, brow furrowed in anticipation, body visibly braced for their encounter. She had already forgotten her anger over the shopping trip. There were things more important now to deal with, and he didn't need that baggage.
"Hey," he greeted stiffly, quietly, moving with hesitant steps a little closer to her. She wondered exactly what Leo had said to him, wondered how much he knew she knew.
"Hey." One hand stretched toward him with the drink. He took it and sipped a couple of times before placing it on the low table.
When had this happened, this awkwardness, this skittish dance around each other?
"World problems?" she questioned lightly, then kicked herself. Coward. Can't tackle the hard issue.
But he seemed to appreciate the easier lead in. "Korea," he explained, loosening a bit. "My strategy backfired." His breath came out in a humorless chuckle. "Again."
"How?" She wished they'd move on. Not that she didn't care about Korea, but - well, actually maybe she didn't really care about Korea. Not right now, anyway.
"We almost had them backing down, but I had to insist on - on all or nothing. Now - we're sure they've conducted several tests of nuclear weapons. They're not even trying to hide it anymore. If I'd just - "
"You did what you thought would work, didn't you?" This small bit of conversation was blunt reminder of how complicated his life was, and gave her even more resolve to make the part she could influence easier.
"Well - "
"And you didn't make the decision alone. You have advisors. They thought the same thing."
He just shrugged, and she saw him mentally shift gears. Maybe this was the time. Clearing his throat, he initiated the subject.
"Leo said - Leo said you - had figured some things out."
She nodded, waiting for him to continue, wanting him to feel free to go at his own pace. But it was hard to do that when she really wanted to throw herself in his arms and tell him it didn't matter, it would be all right, she would be with him.
The lines on his face had deepened even since that morning, if that were possible. The burden weighed down his shoulders. Oh, how she wanted to go to him, to pull him down on the sofa with her, to lay his head in her lap and stroke his hair and kiss his lips and tell him everything was going to be okay. But she didn't. She couldn't. Because he still held himself at a distance from her. And because she knew that despite her strongest wishes, everything wasn't going to be okay.
His lips pursed in thought, in preparation. "I wanted to tell you, but, then again, I didn't." An ironic smile curved them. "I figured you'd be happier not knowing." Now he laughed, just slightly. "But I suppose it's worse now that you know and I wasn't the one to tell you. I'm sorry." It was a simple statement, but plainly heartfelt. She saw the regret in his eyes. More guilt.
"Jed - "
"No." His hand came up, open palmed, to stop her. "I knew this could happen. I knew what you were getting into, and I should have - I should have been clearer about it. Maybe then you could have chosen - "
"Josiah Bartlet," she scolded, unable to hold off any longer. Did he truly think she wouldn't have married him - that she didn't know this could happen one day? "There is absolutely nothing you could say that would make me change one thing that has happened. I came into this with eyes open. I knew what the chances were."
He sighed, with both relief and regret washing across his features. "I was trying to protect you, trying to - keep the unpleasant things away from you, and from J.T."
Ignoring his body language that still thrust up a barrier, she stepped forward, letting her hands rest on his chest, feeling him tense, then feeling the immediate increase in the pumping of his heart. "You can't protect us from everything, Jed," she told him. "I signed on for the long haul. This is not you and me. This is us. What happens to you, happens to me."
"That's what scares me - " He tried to say, but she placed her fingers over his lips.
"I'm gonna be with you, Jed. I'm gonna be with you all the way," she whispered, drawing close to his ear. Leaning down, she picked up the remote from the table and punched a button until she found the chosen song again. "Listen to this. Listen to how I feel."
They stood in each other's arms as the mellow music swirled around them, binding them together. Donna focused on the words, tried to push them into his brain, to make the message hers.
"When somebody loves you, It's no good unless he loves you All the way.
Happy to be near you When you need someone to cheer you All the way."
Her arms stretched upward around his neck; her head fell against his shoulder.
"Taller than the tallest tree is, That how it's got to feel. Deeper than the deep blue sea is, That's how deep it goes, if it's real."
She felt him let go of the tension with a heavy sigh, felt his hands slide down her back, felt his lips in her hair. It had been so long since he had allowed himself to touch her, so long since she had felt his caress.
"When somebody needs you, It's no good unless he needs you All the way.
Through the good or lean years And for all those in-between years, Come what may."
Come what may. It didn't matter. She would be there. Did he hear that? Did he believe that?
"Who knows where the road will lead us? Only a fool would say. But if you let me love you, It's for sure I'm gonna love you All the way."
As the track faded and the notes lingered in the air, she drew back and took his face in her hands, letting her lips take his with the passion they had missed for so long. This time he didn't resist, but clutched her to him, giving back just as hard, just as hot, as she gave. They had always had passion, always had desire. She wondered if that was one reason he avoided her, that he feared the onset of the disease had robbed him of his ability to show his love in that way. And she wanted to reassure him, wanted to tell him it didn't matter. There were other ways.
But in this moment, as he held her tightly against his body, she realized maybe she was premature in her assessment. He hadn't been affected that way - at least not yet. The hardness pressing into her almost surprised her, but he didn't seem caught off guard. In fact, he groaned into her mouth and ground their hips together, letting her feel the growing heat.
Grateful for the continuation of this gift, she let herself go, running her fingers through his hair until it was wild and rough, tearing at the buttons on his shirt so that they popped off, bearing his chest to her tongue. She didn't care that she hadn't seen Dr. Carlstein yet, didn't mind that there was no official release. It was almost seven weeks. Long enough for her. More than long enough.
His lips slid down her throat, his breath hot on her skin. She felt herself throbbing with anticipation. How she had missed this, how she had missed him. Not just the physical touch, but the emotional connection. She needed him.
Her hands roamed freely, pushing the shirt from his shoulders, fumbling with the belt buckle, brushing against the pulsing bulge just below it. She wondered if they would make it to the bed, decided it didn't matter. It wouldn't last long, anyway. Both of them were too far gone, too lost in desire to slow it down now.
So it was totally unexpected when, with a tortured moan, Jed tore himself away from her and stepped back, his chest heaving, his arms shaking. "Donna," he ground out, with effort. "We - I can't - "
"It's okay," she assured him. "It'll be okay." Her hands tried to pull him back, but he shook his head.
"No. I can't - "
She smiled and cupped him, enjoying the delicious agony on his face. "Yes, you can."
"Oh God." He caught her wrist and pulled her away from him. "No, I meant - "
"Jed, I want you to make love to me. Don't worry about the future. Don't worry about what might happen tomorrow. It doesn't matter to me. We'll face that when it happens. There are many ways you can show your love for me. It'll be this way now. Later, well, it doesn't matter."
"Baby," he groaned, and she smiled. He hadn't called her that in weeks. It was good to hear again. But then he stopped and slowly pulled back, eyebrows drawn together, eyes puzzled. He stared at her for a long time, long enough to worry her. "What - what are you talking about?" he finally asked.
Don't make it harder, she pleaded silently. Let's just take advantage of the moment, enjoy this time. "Leo told you I knew," she reminded him. "It's okay. I'll help you if you - if you need help. And there's more to love than intercourse. There's more to our relationship than sex."
But instead of the relief she expected to see on his face, more confusion gathered. "Donna, I don't think - that's not - " He shook his head, grasping her shoulders. "What exactly did you tell Leo?"
"I told him - I told him I knew what was wrong with you. You've been avoiding me, Jed. Don't deny it."
He didn't, but his eyes still asked her to continue.
"You've tried not to touch me, not to be too close. You've worried more about things." She dropped her tone, not wanting to make him feel any worse than he already did. "You've been - distracted, unfocused."
"Donna - " He began, but she wouldn't let him say it.
"No. It's okay. It's going to be okay." So she said it anyway, hoping that by voicing it, she might make it true. "We'll deal with this. I love you. I love you so much, and nothing is going to change that. Do you understand?" Her hands took his face again, forced him to look into her eyes. In his she saw the tears he had not allowed himself earlier, and she had to turn away again.
"Oh, Baby," he breathed, slipping his hands up her neck. "I love you. Look at me."
She did, thinking she could not be happier than this moment. But he wasn't finished. Covering her hands with his, he held her gaze. "Listen to me Donna. I'm fine," he told her firmly. "I'm not sick. There's no - there's no progression of the MS."
"It doesn't matter," she repeated. "I told you I don't - "
Wait. What the hell did he say?
Now her mind reeled in confusion. Her entire premise, her whole scenario had fallen apart. Relief washed over her. He wasn't sick? He wasn't sick! Oh thank God. Thank God he wasn't sick. Despite her resolve, despite her total devotion to do whatever she needed to do, she couldn't help the almost orgasmic release that the realization brought. He wasn't sick! She was laughing, and he was laughing, and she had been wrong. She could be happier.
But the joy at that revelation was muted by the sudden, new concern. He wasn't sick. But if he wasn't sick, then what on earth was wrong? What terrible thing had he been unable to tell her?
"Jed, I thought - but you're not - then what - "
"When Leo said you knew, I thought he meant - I thought you knew about - " But he fell short, eyes falling to settle on the floor somewhere.
"Knew about what?" she asked, her voice a mixture of a plea and a demand.
He looked at her again, and she saw the decision made in his eyes, knew to give him the beat or two to gather his words. "Sit down, Donna," he said, but it was more a request than command.
She complied, perching in frozen anxiety on the edge of the couch. As he sank down next to her and took both her hands in his, she looked into his eyes, saw the pain, and knew this couldn't be good.
All the Way - Chapter Five A West Wing Story
by MAHC
Flames danced in the fireplace, warming the room both physically and emotionally. Soft music floated from the CD player and two drinks waited patiently on the coffee table. All that was left now was the arrival of the person for whom this preparation had been done. Donna stood by the bed, fidgeting a little, not sure what she wanted to accomplish, except letting him know it was all right. She resisted the urge to gulp down the scotch. He might need it. She certainly would.
Her attention focused on the music, following the words in her head. The choice was not random, but a carefully thought-out selection that would help her convey her feelings; that would convince him of her devotion - regardless of what their future held. She had heard it just the day before on a public radio salute to the crooners and found the classic message perfect. Margaret had been sent on the mission to pick it up. Now she hoped it fulfilled her goal.
With the magic of technology, someone had created a duet between Celine Dion and Frank Sinatra. Breaching the seemingly impossible barriers of time, their voices entwined to the strains of "All the Way," a song that promised commitment, that offered total devotion and steadfastness. It was what she wanted to say to him, what she wanted him to know he would always have from her.
The door opened tentatively, drawing her thoughts back. That in itself was unusual, a departure from his accustomed fling-and-stride entrances. Instead, he eased in, brow furrowed in anticipation, body visibly braced for their encounter. She had already forgotten her anger over the shopping trip. There were things more important now to deal with, and he didn't need that baggage.
"Hey," he greeted stiffly, quietly, moving with hesitant steps a little closer to her. She wondered exactly what Leo had said to him, wondered how much he knew she knew.
"Hey." One hand stretched toward him with the drink. He took it and sipped a couple of times before placing it on the low table.
When had this happened, this awkwardness, this skittish dance around each other?
"World problems?" she questioned lightly, then kicked herself. Coward. Can't tackle the hard issue.
But he seemed to appreciate the easier lead in. "Korea," he explained, loosening a bit. "My strategy backfired." His breath came out in a humorless chuckle. "Again."
"How?" She wished they'd move on. Not that she didn't care about Korea, but - well, actually maybe she didn't really care about Korea. Not right now, anyway.
"We almost had them backing down, but I had to insist on - on all or nothing. Now - we're sure they've conducted several tests of nuclear weapons. They're not even trying to hide it anymore. If I'd just - "
"You did what you thought would work, didn't you?" This small bit of conversation was blunt reminder of how complicated his life was, and gave her even more resolve to make the part she could influence easier.
"Well - "
"And you didn't make the decision alone. You have advisors. They thought the same thing."
He just shrugged, and she saw him mentally shift gears. Maybe this was the time. Clearing his throat, he initiated the subject.
"Leo said - Leo said you - had figured some things out."
She nodded, waiting for him to continue, wanting him to feel free to go at his own pace. But it was hard to do that when she really wanted to throw herself in his arms and tell him it didn't matter, it would be all right, she would be with him.
The lines on his face had deepened even since that morning, if that were possible. The burden weighed down his shoulders. Oh, how she wanted to go to him, to pull him down on the sofa with her, to lay his head in her lap and stroke his hair and kiss his lips and tell him everything was going to be okay. But she didn't. She couldn't. Because he still held himself at a distance from her. And because she knew that despite her strongest wishes, everything wasn't going to be okay.
His lips pursed in thought, in preparation. "I wanted to tell you, but, then again, I didn't." An ironic smile curved them. "I figured you'd be happier not knowing." Now he laughed, just slightly. "But I suppose it's worse now that you know and I wasn't the one to tell you. I'm sorry." It was a simple statement, but plainly heartfelt. She saw the regret in his eyes. More guilt.
"Jed - "
"No." His hand came up, open palmed, to stop her. "I knew this could happen. I knew what you were getting into, and I should have - I should have been clearer about it. Maybe then you could have chosen - "
"Josiah Bartlet," she scolded, unable to hold off any longer. Did he truly think she wouldn't have married him - that she didn't know this could happen one day? "There is absolutely nothing you could say that would make me change one thing that has happened. I came into this with eyes open. I knew what the chances were."
He sighed, with both relief and regret washing across his features. "I was trying to protect you, trying to - keep the unpleasant things away from you, and from J.T."
Ignoring his body language that still thrust up a barrier, she stepped forward, letting her hands rest on his chest, feeling him tense, then feeling the immediate increase in the pumping of his heart. "You can't protect us from everything, Jed," she told him. "I signed on for the long haul. This is not you and me. This is us. What happens to you, happens to me."
"That's what scares me - " He tried to say, but she placed her fingers over his lips.
"I'm gonna be with you, Jed. I'm gonna be with you all the way," she whispered, drawing close to his ear. Leaning down, she picked up the remote from the table and punched a button until she found the chosen song again. "Listen to this. Listen to how I feel."
They stood in each other's arms as the mellow music swirled around them, binding them together. Donna focused on the words, tried to push them into his brain, to make the message hers.
"When somebody loves you, It's no good unless he loves you All the way.
Happy to be near you When you need someone to cheer you All the way."
Her arms stretched upward around his neck; her head fell against his shoulder.
"Taller than the tallest tree is, That how it's got to feel. Deeper than the deep blue sea is, That's how deep it goes, if it's real."
She felt him let go of the tension with a heavy sigh, felt his hands slide down her back, felt his lips in her hair. It had been so long since he had allowed himself to touch her, so long since she had felt his caress.
"When somebody needs you, It's no good unless he needs you All the way.
Through the good or lean years And for all those in-between years, Come what may."
Come what may. It didn't matter. She would be there. Did he hear that? Did he believe that?
"Who knows where the road will lead us? Only a fool would say. But if you let me love you, It's for sure I'm gonna love you All the way."
As the track faded and the notes lingered in the air, she drew back and took his face in her hands, letting her lips take his with the passion they had missed for so long. This time he didn't resist, but clutched her to him, giving back just as hard, just as hot, as she gave. They had always had passion, always had desire. She wondered if that was one reason he avoided her, that he feared the onset of the disease had robbed him of his ability to show his love in that way. And she wanted to reassure him, wanted to tell him it didn't matter. There were other ways.
But in this moment, as he held her tightly against his body, she realized maybe she was premature in her assessment. He hadn't been affected that way - at least not yet. The hardness pressing into her almost surprised her, but he didn't seem caught off guard. In fact, he groaned into her mouth and ground their hips together, letting her feel the growing heat.
Grateful for the continuation of this gift, she let herself go, running her fingers through his hair until it was wild and rough, tearing at the buttons on his shirt so that they popped off, bearing his chest to her tongue. She didn't care that she hadn't seen Dr. Carlstein yet, didn't mind that there was no official release. It was almost seven weeks. Long enough for her. More than long enough.
His lips slid down her throat, his breath hot on her skin. She felt herself throbbing with anticipation. How she had missed this, how she had missed him. Not just the physical touch, but the emotional connection. She needed him.
Her hands roamed freely, pushing the shirt from his shoulders, fumbling with the belt buckle, brushing against the pulsing bulge just below it. She wondered if they would make it to the bed, decided it didn't matter. It wouldn't last long, anyway. Both of them were too far gone, too lost in desire to slow it down now.
So it was totally unexpected when, with a tortured moan, Jed tore himself away from her and stepped back, his chest heaving, his arms shaking. "Donna," he ground out, with effort. "We - I can't - "
"It's okay," she assured him. "It'll be okay." Her hands tried to pull him back, but he shook his head.
"No. I can't - "
She smiled and cupped him, enjoying the delicious agony on his face. "Yes, you can."
"Oh God." He caught her wrist and pulled her away from him. "No, I meant - "
"Jed, I want you to make love to me. Don't worry about the future. Don't worry about what might happen tomorrow. It doesn't matter to me. We'll face that when it happens. There are many ways you can show your love for me. It'll be this way now. Later, well, it doesn't matter."
"Baby," he groaned, and she smiled. He hadn't called her that in weeks. It was good to hear again. But then he stopped and slowly pulled back, eyebrows drawn together, eyes puzzled. He stared at her for a long time, long enough to worry her. "What - what are you talking about?" he finally asked.
Don't make it harder, she pleaded silently. Let's just take advantage of the moment, enjoy this time. "Leo told you I knew," she reminded him. "It's okay. I'll help you if you - if you need help. And there's more to love than intercourse. There's more to our relationship than sex."
But instead of the relief she expected to see on his face, more confusion gathered. "Donna, I don't think - that's not - " He shook his head, grasping her shoulders. "What exactly did you tell Leo?"
"I told him - I told him I knew what was wrong with you. You've been avoiding me, Jed. Don't deny it."
He didn't, but his eyes still asked her to continue.
"You've tried not to touch me, not to be too close. You've worried more about things." She dropped her tone, not wanting to make him feel any worse than he already did. "You've been - distracted, unfocused."
"Donna - " He began, but she wouldn't let him say it.
"No. It's okay. It's going to be okay." So she said it anyway, hoping that by voicing it, she might make it true. "We'll deal with this. I love you. I love you so much, and nothing is going to change that. Do you understand?" Her hands took his face again, forced him to look into her eyes. In his she saw the tears he had not allowed himself earlier, and she had to turn away again.
"Oh, Baby," he breathed, slipping his hands up her neck. "I love you. Look at me."
She did, thinking she could not be happier than this moment. But he wasn't finished. Covering her hands with his, he held her gaze. "Listen to me Donna. I'm fine," he told her firmly. "I'm not sick. There's no - there's no progression of the MS."
"It doesn't matter," she repeated. "I told you I don't - "
Wait. What the hell did he say?
Now her mind reeled in confusion. Her entire premise, her whole scenario had fallen apart. Relief washed over her. He wasn't sick? He wasn't sick! Oh thank God. Thank God he wasn't sick. Despite her resolve, despite her total devotion to do whatever she needed to do, she couldn't help the almost orgasmic release that the realization brought. He wasn't sick! She was laughing, and he was laughing, and she had been wrong. She could be happier.
But the joy at that revelation was muted by the sudden, new concern. He wasn't sick. But if he wasn't sick, then what on earth was wrong? What terrible thing had he been unable to tell her?
"Jed, I thought - but you're not - then what - "
"When Leo said you knew, I thought he meant - I thought you knew about - " But he fell short, eyes falling to settle on the floor somewhere.
"Knew about what?" she asked, her voice a mixture of a plea and a demand.
He looked at her again, and she saw the decision made in his eyes, knew to give him the beat or two to gather his words. "Sit down, Donna," he said, but it was more a request than command.
She complied, perching in frozen anxiety on the edge of the couch. As he sank down next to her and took both her hands in his, she looked into his eyes, saw the pain, and knew this couldn't be good.