This is the last installment in "All the Way," but for those of you who
have been reading this - and you have been great with the feedback - there
will be another story coming in a little while. Maybe I'll never finish
with Jed and Donna. Who knows?
POV: Donna Spoilers: "Celestial Navigation" Rating: R Disclaimer: These are not my characters.
All the Way - Chapter Seven A West Wing Story
by MAHC
The smile wouldn't stay off her lips. As much as she tried to hide it, to maintain an expression of normal pleasantry, the smirk insisted on pushing through. In fact, it threatened to become an outright grin, and it was only partially because it was her favorite day of the year.
Christmas Eve. Not Christmas. Because, although Christmas was full of celebration and gift-giving, it was usually also tinged with the knowledge that all they had anticipated for 364 days was here and it would be another 364 days before it came again. But Christmas Eve - the excitement still lay before them, the surprise, the fellowship, the memories. All the good things were to come. Yes, Christmas Eve was definitely her favorite day of the year.
And if things worked out like she planned, she figured it might become Jed's, as well.
It took only one phone call, one favor from a sympathetic Dr. Carlstein, who obviously recalled the President's eagerness over her suggestion for the natural inducement of labor at their last pre-delivery visit. Now the First Lady did her best to sneak through the West Wing, almost deserted for the holidays, except for a few workaholics like her husband - and Leo. And since Leo was still there, so was Margaret.
"Hey!" she greeted casually, pleased to see the willowy secretary in jeans, at least.
Margaret shook her head. "I hope you've come to drag them away. I swear I don't think Leo has any idea that tomorrow is Christmas."
"Well, he'd better. He and Mallory are supposed to join Jed and me for dinner, along with my folks."
"He'll be there. I was sent out earlier to purchase gifts for everyone." Her usual sarcasm crept through the tone. "No sense waiting until the last minute."
Donna laughed. "Well, he's doing better than Jed. He claims he's making the stuffing himself, but I have yet to see him even gather ingredients. I have a feeling we might be forced to consume a stuffing-less Christmas feast."
Lowering her voice and glancing around to check for eavesdroppers, as if anyone else was left in the building, Margaret asked, "Did you see her?"
That grin appeared again. "Yeah."
"And?"
She just nodded.
Margaret sighed. "Well, thank goodness."
"What do you mean?"
Leaning closer, as if she conveyed a state secret, the secretary confided, "He's been snapping at everyone today - on Christmas Eve. Charlie's given him a wide berth. Josh looks like a whipped puppy. Even Toby is staying clear. Of course Ms. Fiderer just tosses it back to him, but I think - well, I think maybe he needs a little - stress relief." She blushed deep red at her own blatancy.
Donna felt her cheeks warm, as well. "Margaret!"
"I'm stating a fact. Let's just say there would be many appreciate staff members if you decided to - uh, hold a private conference with him this morning. I can even predict that the country would run a little more smoothly."
Donna glanced at the closed door past her friend, imagining the next door behind that one. She'd already planned to give Jed an early Christmas present that night, but Margaret's comments prodded her to consider pushing the event up a little. If she could convince him to take a break, to go back to the Residence with her for a little while - and she figured it wouldn't take long, not for either of them - maybe it would help him start his holiday with a bang, so to speak.
"You think Ms. Fiderer would work me in?" she wondered.
"I wouldn't doubt it," Margaret assured her, "considering that she is probably getting tired of running interference for everyone. She'd probably appreciate the assist."
"Listen, I've got to feed J.T. Then, I'll - " Again that chagrined smirk tugged at her lips. "- then I'll - arrange a - conference with him - for the good of the country."
As straight-faced as she could manage - which wasn't very - Margaret said, "You are a true patriot, Mrs. Bartlet."
Donna Moss Bartlet tried not to rush her son through his meal. After all, it would only make him cranky and probably interfere with the reason she was hurrying in the first place. Still, she didn't let him linger too long, as he had gotten used to doing, napping a little when he got tired of sucking. He fretted a bit with the loss of her complete attention, but the argument of a full belly eventually seemed to be sufficient.
After a satisfying burp and diaper change, he lay in the crib, kicking happily. The baby was both healthy and hearty - quite hearty, in fact. At the first doctor's visit, Donna had been insulted to be accused of supplementing mother's milk with formula. She most certainly was not. J.T. simply liked to eat. And he liked to eat a lot. But all the nourishment he received was from her.
But there was someone else who needed nourishment, as well. Nourishment of a different kind. As she walked through the West Wing toward his office, she couldn't help but wonder if everyone knew exactly what she was planning to do. The eyes of those few left to finish their work before heading to their families followed her. Of course, she was the First Lady. Eyes always followed her - and that was something that had taken quite a bit of getting used to. Still, she almost checked her forehead to make sure there wasn't some sign on it that proclaimed, "I'm going to have sex with the President of the United States."
Charlie sat at his desk, Debbie Fiderer across from him. They both looked up as she walked into the outer office, trying desperately not to blush. She wasn't very successful.
"Mrs. Bartlet," Debbie acknowledged, her eyes squinted as usual. Donna always had the feeling she was trying to look through everyone, to find out some bizarre characteristic she could use later. She tried not to be intimidated by her, but usually failed. Even Jed seemed a little wary when he dealt with her.
Jed. That reminded her of why she was there. "Good morning," she greeted as casually as possible. "Is the President available - for a conference?"
Charlie traded glances with his colleague. "Well, he's got a meeting with the National Security Advisor at 11:00 and with the Secretary of State at 11:30."
"Oh." Damn it. She should have made an appointment.
"I can see if he's got just a minute," he offered, seeing the disappointment on her face. But she saw him flinch a bit at the thought of interrupting his boss, who was in some particularly nasty mood today.
She sighed. Seven weeks or not, it would take longer than a minute. "No. That's okay. I'll just - "
"Charlie," Debbie said, her eyes shifting as she twirled a pencil adroitly between her fingers. "Wasn't that meeting with Doctor McNally postponed until this afternoon?"
He frowned at her in confusion. "I don't think so. He specifically told me - "
"Nope," she insisted pointedly, tapping the notebook that held the President's daily schedule. "Definitely postponed." Glancing up, she shrugged. "So I guess he's free, Mrs. Bartlet. Why don't you go on in?"
A little confused herself, Donna nodded her thanks and stepped toward the door, Charlie's narrowed gaze following her across the room. As she touched the knob, Debbie Fiderer leaned in closer and whispered, "Thank God you're here. He's been biting everyone's heads off this morning. If you'll pardon me for saying so, m'am, maybe he'll feel better after your - conference."
Oh God. Maybe there was a sign on her forehead, after all.
The secretary's voice grew even softer. "And of course for important conferences I'd never let the President be disturbed. Conferences like that usually take at least - "
Was this really happening? " - thirty minutes," Donna suggested, unable to keep her voice from cracking. It was one thing to plan a seduction of your husband. It was an entirely different thing to have accomplices.
"Thirty minutes," the secretary confirmed with a nod.
Now she couldn't keep the blush from her cheeks. No doubt, as soon as she entered the office, Nancy McNally would be getting the word that her meeting with the President was postponed until after lunch. Glancing once more at Debbie Fiderer, she saw a surprising mix of understanding, compassion, and amusement on that unique face. With such an ally, she reassessed her plans to steal Jed from the Oval Office. Maybe there were other, even more exciting options. Quietly, she stepped into the room, noting that someone closed the door just as quietly behind her.
He didn't look up, probably was so certain it was his appointment, he didn't need to. Instead, his hand scratched out a few more notes and she took the moment to watch him. Coat off, shirtsleeves rolled up, tie loosened, hair a little scattered, glasses perched low on his nose. Very nice.
"I'll be with you in a minute, Nancy," he called, still not raising his head, the tension clear in his tone.
In her best seductive voice, she replied, "No rush, Mister President. I'd never want you to rush."
The pen paused in mid-stroke and his eyes peered out over his glasses. For a moment, he just stared at her, then a quick smile appeared and he dropped the writing instrument and tossed his glasses on the desk. But as he braced his hands on the chair arms to push up, she walked forward, shaking her head.
"Uh uh. Stay right where you are."
The smile faded; he raised a brow. "What?"
"I just wanted to visit you."
With a sigh, he let himself fall back into the chair. "It's a nice surprise, Donna, but I have a meeting in a minute. Nancy McNally." He leaned toward the intercom. "I'll see if Debbie can free me for lun - "
Her hand caught his before he could push the button and she leaned deep over his desk, feeling the welcome tingle inside as she watched his eyes fall to the curve of her breasts, almost exposed over the top of her dress. When she pulled back, he swallowed hard and glanced nervously at the door.
He cleared his throat. "Uh, Donna, is there something specific you need?"
There was her opening. She looked at him from under hooded eyelids, put as much seduction into her tone as she could. "Oh, yes," she assured him, "there is something I need."
He would have to be dense indeed to miss her intention, and Jed Bartlet was certainly not dense.
His color had risen - among other things. "Donna, I'd really like to - well, surely you know that. But I really do have a meeting." Now he frowned.
"It's Christmas Eve, Jed," she murmured huskily. "Leo's role is Scrooge, not yours."
Fighting the effects of her body so close to his, he sighed. "I know everyone wants to leave, but - "
"No buts." Her breath fluttered across his ear.
"But - "
"I said, 'no buts,'" she ordered. "Scoot back."
"What?"
"Scoot your chair back."
He did, but the suspicion on his face was clear. "What are you - "
Her long legs straddled him and she heard him swallow again. It was almost a gulp. "You're not making this easy," he accused.
"No, I want to make it hard," she assured him.
Another gulp. "Well, then you're doing a good job."
Oh yeah. She could see that. Her hand slid down his chest and past his belt buckle. She almost lost her control when her fingers brushed the straining bulge under the tight material.
"Donna," he groaned, unable to keep from arching into her touch. "I can't - we can't - "
"See, I'm here on official business," she stated.
"Uh, official business?" She saw the doubt in his eyes.
"Duty to my country," she declared, tossing the end of his tie over his shoulder, unbuttoning his shirt, and pushing the crisp fabric aside to lick a nipple.
He gasped. "Donna, I don't want to discourage you, certainly, but I really don't have the time - "
But she ignored him and continued. "Keeping their leader inspired and on top of his game."
Always intrigued by a pun, he grinned at her. "On top?"
"Any way you want it," she purred, nibbling on his chest hair. "You've been tense today, snapping at everyone."
"I have not -"
Sliding off his legs, she let her lips trail down his stomach. She was gaining his full attention now. "Yes, you have. And it's only right that I see to the morale of the staff."
"The staff?"
"The staff."
"How do you plan to do that?"
She grinned up at him before she reached her ultimate destination. "Oh, I have a plan."
One eyebrow lifted in question. "I hope it's better than Josh's secret plan to fight inflation."
"Oh yes," she assured him. "As a matter of fact, I'm counting on severe inflation."
Delicately, she danced across the hard ridge and he closed his eyes. "Oh God. I think you've got it. Do you know what you do to me?" he asked in a moan.
Yes she did. And she loved that she could do it. Her hand rested on the taut zipper, felt the strong pulse beneath her palm.
"Baby, you've got to stop. I'm going to - you've just got to stop. I mean, Nancy's going to be here in - and I'm about to - you've just got to stop." His voice was so pained that she almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
Smiling, she decided to relieve his fears. "Your meeting with the NSA has been postponed until this afternoon."
His eyes opened wider. "Really?"
She stroked him with the back of her hand. "Yeah."
"Uh, still, we need to wait for you to - "
"I thought I'd give you a Christmas present."
"But it's not Christmas yet," he reminded.
"Ah, but Christmas has - come - early."
He swallowed and made one more valiant effort to stand. "Donna, I don't want to - I'm afraid I'll - "
She shook her head. "You're not going to hurt me, Jed," she smiled.
His jaw worked. "How can you tell? Donna, I don't want - "
She twirled his chest hair playfully. "By the way, my appointment with Doctor Carlstein went quite well this morning."
All right. The double take was almost worth the whole plan. She watched as realization hit him, as his eyes lit, a fiery desire behind them.
"Your appointment - this morning?"
She nodded and squeezed him. He groaned again, falling back into the chair as he jerked in her grasp.
"Umm, Donna. I meant that about stopping. It's been too long." His face had flushed and she could tell he didn't have control. She had taken him by surprise.
She grinned and relaxed her grip. "No, it's just right."
Too concentrated on maintaining control, he missed that pun. He swallowed hard and managed to ask, "You saw Doctor Carlstein this morning?"
Another nod.
"I thought it was next week."
"Merry Christmas," she murmured, kissing his fingers.
"Are you serious?"
"Never more."
She had his pants open now, slid down the zipper and enjoyed how he spilled out eagerly, pushing against the thin fabric of his boxers. They provided little restraint. With his hips lifted just enough, she lowered his underwear so that his erection thrust up against her. Seeing from his condition that she couldn't tease much, she took him into her mouth gently. Even that light touch drew a powerful pulse and deep groan.
"Okay," he gasped, clutching her wrist, "let's go."
She lifted off him just enough to say, "Go where?" Then she got back to work.
"Ahh - go - to the - Residence."
"Uh uh." She didn't want to stop even for a minute. Didn't want to let him go now that she finally had him.
"Donna - " he warned. "Do you really intend to - well, right here in the Oval Office?"
And suddenly she realized that, yes, she did intend to - right there in the Oval Office. Standing, she straddled him again, drew his hands to her thighs, pushing the hem of her dress higher until he realized she wore nothing underneath.
"We can't - " he tried one more time.
"I want you to make love to me, Jed. Right now."
The restraint was crumbling, giving way to his own overpowering desire. "Right now?" he echoed.
She nodded.
"Right here?"
She nodded again.
One last protest. "But someone could come - "
"I'm counting on that," she quipped.
"But - "
"Ms. Fiderer has guaranteed me thirty minutes."
She felt his body jerk, but not in desire. A certain fleck of terror flashed in his eye. "What? Dear God, do you mean that insane woman is standing guard outside while we - "
She nodded, laughing at the alarm on his face.
"She's out there right now selling tickets!" he declared, making one last attempt to untangle himself.
But it was half-hearted, and Donna's hands reaching down to cup him were persuasive enough to discourage any further resistance.
"Oh, Donna," he moaned, and she felt him give up and push against her. "I tried - "
She ground her hips against him harder, feeling his thickness press against her, gasping as his fingers danced between them, slipping inside her. She had been ready for him for weeks, and now that they had been given a green light, she knew he could feel how slick she was, how hot, the anticipation growing all that time. And he knew it was all for him.
A low moan slid from his lips as she curled her fingers around the pulsing shaft and slipped it into her warm folds. His fingers brought her almost to the edge, his lips sucked at hers, and now she didn't think she could wait. He seemed quite willing, himself, to go along, so she braced her legs and lifted off him just long enough to guide him lower, feeling the thick head probe. She had planned to ease him into her slowly, sensually, teasingly, but as soon as she felt the hard pulse, she knew that simply was not going to happen. Her body reacted involuntarily, thrusting forward. She slid down on him, moaning louder than she had planned as he filled her, hard and hot.
His head fell back, his mouth opened in a deep groan, and she could tell he fought not to climax right then.
"Oh, I've missed you," she whispered, her voice husky with arousal.
Despite her assurances to him, she hadn't been positive that it wouldn't hurt. It was to her own relief that she discovered it didn't. In fact, the sheer pleasure that flooded her as he pressed inside was so incredible, she whimpered softly. He jerked back, trying to pull out, but she held him in.
"No. It's wonderful."
"Donna," he groaned, his lips sliding down her neck as his hands lifted her hips and pulled them back down hard onto him. "Oh, Donna, I don't - I can't - you feel too good."
They both tried to slow things down, to wait, but neither had the will. Unable to stop himself, he began thrusting up, strong, sure motions that carried him deep inside. His fingers still played between them and she dug her fingers in his hair and hung on.
"Come with me, Baby," he whispered roughly at her ear. "Come with me."
She had no doubt that she would, and it would be soon, too.
He flicked with his finger, then stroked both himself and her smooth folds where they met and thrust together. Her breath caught in her throat. He knew she liked that. And she did, indeed, like it. She liked it a lot.
He pushed harder; then, with a sweep of his arm, cleared the desk surface. She arched back until he grabbed her under the hips and braced his legs, lifting her onto the polished top, still inside her, but now pushing even harder and even deeper. Startled, she grabbed at him, but then realized what he needed and wrapped her legs around his hips, meeting him, drawing him far into her. Tears burned her eyes with the ecstasy of the long, powerful strokes, until she forgot where they were and cried out his name, the spasms rocking her, contracting around him as he continued his thrusts.
There were times he could be so gentle, so tender, whispering lovingly in her ear, running light caresses over her skin. And then there were times like this. No gentleness here. No tenderness. No light caresses. And she didn't want any. She wanted to feel him driving, wanted to hear his groans, wanted to see the delicious agony on his face when he came.
This was dangerous. This was wanton. This was exciting.
She arched against him hard, running a hand down his slick chest, tightening her legs around him to help him sink deep inside. And he did.
"Donna, I'm - " His jaw tightened and in only another few moments, she felt him stiffen, felt him jerk within her, welcomed the familiar hot pulses that flooded her, heard the groan of relief rumble in his chest.
The warmth between her legs, the pounding in her chest, and the tingling in her fingers and toes were delicious evidence of a thoroughly satisfying orgasm. He rocked lazily a little longer, sliding their bodies together in a dance she had missed the past seven weeks. Finally, he slowed and lay still. For a minute, they didn't move, just enjoyed the extreme intimacy of still being joined, dreading the moment they would separate. Then she thought about what it would look like if someone walked in on them. Or peeked through the windows. She had forgotten the windows.
But a quick glance revealed no peeping Toms, or Tobys, or Joshs. And the secret service had made themselves scarce, as well. She definitely owed Ms. Fiderer.
After a long, sweet kiss, he smiled down at her. "I just want to stay here for a while," he murmured.
Sounded good to her.
Then he laughed ruefully. "But I think I'm gonna be paying for this later."
She frowned. "Your back?" He had actually lifted her onto the desk, after all. And it had been no leisurely loving they shared.
"It's okay," he assured her, but she caught the grimace as he pushed up slowly, reluctantly, bracing his hands on the desk. She pouted a little as she felt him slide from her body. It had been such a good feeling to have him inside again. She straightened her dress as he pulled his pants back up. Their eyes met, and they suddenly broke into slightly embarrassed laughter at the realization of what they had just done.
"I believe it's been christened," he noted of the room.
"Yes, I believe so. Definitely christened." She grinned at him, seeing that the hair she absolutely loved was now a bit wild and falling over his forehead. His faced was flushed, and a few scattered drops of perspiration dotted his brow.
Her heart almost ached as she watched him, remembering her fears - fears than had been premature, that had been unnecessary, but fears that would always be with her, nevertheless.
"Jed?" she said, having to say it, despite the lightness of the moment.
"Hmm?" He wasn't really paying attention, was still tucking in his shirt.
"Jed, I meant it. I meant what I said."
"Said about what?"
"All the way. I want you to know I will go all the way with you."
He paused in mid-tuck, peering from under arched brows and grinning. "I'm pretty sure you just did."
Okay, she walked right into that one. "You know what I mean. The song I played for you the other day. I chose it for a reason. I'm gonna love you all the way. No matter what. Whatever the future - "
His fingers touched her lips; his arms pulled her close. "Shh. I know. Dear God, don't you think - don't you think I know that. But I won't blame you if the time comes when - if you can't - "
Now it was her turn to clamp a hand over his mouth. "Stop it right there. There are no ifs. You'll be there for me, won't you?"
Allowing her to keep him silent, he nodded.
"I'll be there for you. All the way. All the way."
And they fell against each other, touching, not with the heated, frantic passion of the previous moments, but with the secure, committed caresses of their dedication and love. She did not doubt him or herself.
They would love each other all the way.
"You have an 11:30," she told him finally, pleased at how relaxed he looked now. The Secretary of State owed her one.
He ran his fingers lightly up and down her spine. "You sure?"
"'Fraid so," she murmured against his lips, her body still humming from his talents.
"Damn."
She raised a suggestive brow and twirled a few strands of chest hair before she finished buttoning his shirt. "But I think I can arrange another conference after you're done with the Secretary."
Now he grinned, straightening his tie. "I'll get rid of him fast. What's he got to talk about anyway? Nuclear war? Terrorism? First things first. I'll meet you in the Residence."
"See you in about forty minutes, then," she confirmed, sliding her hands down his body, delighted to feel him already stirring again in anticipation.
"If I can wait that long," he muttered as she stepped toward the door. She glanced back to see him move deliberately behind his desk.
His eyes followed her out and she tried not to grin too broadly as she walked past Charlie and Debbie. The young man seemed to have trouble meeting her eyes, but the secretary tilted her head curiously and asked, "Productive conference, Mrs. Bartlet?"
"Oh yes," Donna replied, and the grin just wouldn't stay off her face.
Charlie had turned to greet the Secretary of State, who shifted nervously, having heard, no doubt, that the President was being rather difficult today. Not anymore, she figured. He nodded politely to her before entering Jed's office, but she noted that he didn't quite look her in the eye. A disturbing suspicion tickled her brain.
And it was only confirmed after the door had closed. Although she couldn't distinguish the words, she could hear the low undertone of Jed's greeting and the Secretary's response. And they weren't even speaking loudly. Dear God! If someone had reason to scream -
She felt the red heat flood her cheeks and glanced up at the two remaining people in the room. Charlie still avoided her gaze, but Debbie Fiderer regarded her with a mysterious smile.
Hesitantly, she smiled back, suppressing the flash of panic that grabbed at her. She could see the quote now, the one Charlie and Debbie could put in their book - should either chose to write one: "Of course, there was the time the President and First Lady had mind-numbing sex in the Oval Office. Everyone within twenty yards of the closed doors could hear - "
But then, with a touch of mischievous pride, she decided she didn't care. Even if the entire Cabinet knew by supper what had happened, Jed probably wouldn't mind. In fact, she'd bet he'd find it rather humorous that they were interested in it at all.
So she allowed the grin the creep out again and faced Ms. Fiderer and Charlie with her head held high. "Could you please mark another conference on the President's calendar for lunch?"
The secretary knowingly returned the grin and stepped to her desk to make a note on the schedule. "12:00 to 12:30?" she asked, face completely innocent.
With as much casualness as she could manage, Donna shrugged. "Better make it 12:00 to 1:00," she decided confidently.
Ignoring Charlie's sudden coughing attack, she strolled away from the office, already anticipating what no doubt awaited her - for lunch.
And maybe supper, too.
And perhaps a midnight snack -
"All the Way"
Lyrics by Sammy Cahn Music by Jimmy Van Heusen
"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.
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.
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.
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."
POV: Donna Spoilers: "Celestial Navigation" Rating: R Disclaimer: These are not my characters.
All the Way - Chapter Seven A West Wing Story
by MAHC
The smile wouldn't stay off her lips. As much as she tried to hide it, to maintain an expression of normal pleasantry, the smirk insisted on pushing through. In fact, it threatened to become an outright grin, and it was only partially because it was her favorite day of the year.
Christmas Eve. Not Christmas. Because, although Christmas was full of celebration and gift-giving, it was usually also tinged with the knowledge that all they had anticipated for 364 days was here and it would be another 364 days before it came again. But Christmas Eve - the excitement still lay before them, the surprise, the fellowship, the memories. All the good things were to come. Yes, Christmas Eve was definitely her favorite day of the year.
And if things worked out like she planned, she figured it might become Jed's, as well.
It took only one phone call, one favor from a sympathetic Dr. Carlstein, who obviously recalled the President's eagerness over her suggestion for the natural inducement of labor at their last pre-delivery visit. Now the First Lady did her best to sneak through the West Wing, almost deserted for the holidays, except for a few workaholics like her husband - and Leo. And since Leo was still there, so was Margaret.
"Hey!" she greeted casually, pleased to see the willowy secretary in jeans, at least.
Margaret shook her head. "I hope you've come to drag them away. I swear I don't think Leo has any idea that tomorrow is Christmas."
"Well, he'd better. He and Mallory are supposed to join Jed and me for dinner, along with my folks."
"He'll be there. I was sent out earlier to purchase gifts for everyone." Her usual sarcasm crept through the tone. "No sense waiting until the last minute."
Donna laughed. "Well, he's doing better than Jed. He claims he's making the stuffing himself, but I have yet to see him even gather ingredients. I have a feeling we might be forced to consume a stuffing-less Christmas feast."
Lowering her voice and glancing around to check for eavesdroppers, as if anyone else was left in the building, Margaret asked, "Did you see her?"
That grin appeared again. "Yeah."
"And?"
She just nodded.
Margaret sighed. "Well, thank goodness."
"What do you mean?"
Leaning closer, as if she conveyed a state secret, the secretary confided, "He's been snapping at everyone today - on Christmas Eve. Charlie's given him a wide berth. Josh looks like a whipped puppy. Even Toby is staying clear. Of course Ms. Fiderer just tosses it back to him, but I think - well, I think maybe he needs a little - stress relief." She blushed deep red at her own blatancy.
Donna felt her cheeks warm, as well. "Margaret!"
"I'm stating a fact. Let's just say there would be many appreciate staff members if you decided to - uh, hold a private conference with him this morning. I can even predict that the country would run a little more smoothly."
Donna glanced at the closed door past her friend, imagining the next door behind that one. She'd already planned to give Jed an early Christmas present that night, but Margaret's comments prodded her to consider pushing the event up a little. If she could convince him to take a break, to go back to the Residence with her for a little while - and she figured it wouldn't take long, not for either of them - maybe it would help him start his holiday with a bang, so to speak.
"You think Ms. Fiderer would work me in?" she wondered.
"I wouldn't doubt it," Margaret assured her, "considering that she is probably getting tired of running interference for everyone. She'd probably appreciate the assist."
"Listen, I've got to feed J.T. Then, I'll - " Again that chagrined smirk tugged at her lips. "- then I'll - arrange a - conference with him - for the good of the country."
As straight-faced as she could manage - which wasn't very - Margaret said, "You are a true patriot, Mrs. Bartlet."
Donna Moss Bartlet tried not to rush her son through his meal. After all, it would only make him cranky and probably interfere with the reason she was hurrying in the first place. Still, she didn't let him linger too long, as he had gotten used to doing, napping a little when he got tired of sucking. He fretted a bit with the loss of her complete attention, but the argument of a full belly eventually seemed to be sufficient.
After a satisfying burp and diaper change, he lay in the crib, kicking happily. The baby was both healthy and hearty - quite hearty, in fact. At the first doctor's visit, Donna had been insulted to be accused of supplementing mother's milk with formula. She most certainly was not. J.T. simply liked to eat. And he liked to eat a lot. But all the nourishment he received was from her.
But there was someone else who needed nourishment, as well. Nourishment of a different kind. As she walked through the West Wing toward his office, she couldn't help but wonder if everyone knew exactly what she was planning to do. The eyes of those few left to finish their work before heading to their families followed her. Of course, she was the First Lady. Eyes always followed her - and that was something that had taken quite a bit of getting used to. Still, she almost checked her forehead to make sure there wasn't some sign on it that proclaimed, "I'm going to have sex with the President of the United States."
Charlie sat at his desk, Debbie Fiderer across from him. They both looked up as she walked into the outer office, trying desperately not to blush. She wasn't very successful.
"Mrs. Bartlet," Debbie acknowledged, her eyes squinted as usual. Donna always had the feeling she was trying to look through everyone, to find out some bizarre characteristic she could use later. She tried not to be intimidated by her, but usually failed. Even Jed seemed a little wary when he dealt with her.
Jed. That reminded her of why she was there. "Good morning," she greeted as casually as possible. "Is the President available - for a conference?"
Charlie traded glances with his colleague. "Well, he's got a meeting with the National Security Advisor at 11:00 and with the Secretary of State at 11:30."
"Oh." Damn it. She should have made an appointment.
"I can see if he's got just a minute," he offered, seeing the disappointment on her face. But she saw him flinch a bit at the thought of interrupting his boss, who was in some particularly nasty mood today.
She sighed. Seven weeks or not, it would take longer than a minute. "No. That's okay. I'll just - "
"Charlie," Debbie said, her eyes shifting as she twirled a pencil adroitly between her fingers. "Wasn't that meeting with Doctor McNally postponed until this afternoon?"
He frowned at her in confusion. "I don't think so. He specifically told me - "
"Nope," she insisted pointedly, tapping the notebook that held the President's daily schedule. "Definitely postponed." Glancing up, she shrugged. "So I guess he's free, Mrs. Bartlet. Why don't you go on in?"
A little confused herself, Donna nodded her thanks and stepped toward the door, Charlie's narrowed gaze following her across the room. As she touched the knob, Debbie Fiderer leaned in closer and whispered, "Thank God you're here. He's been biting everyone's heads off this morning. If you'll pardon me for saying so, m'am, maybe he'll feel better after your - conference."
Oh God. Maybe there was a sign on her forehead, after all.
The secretary's voice grew even softer. "And of course for important conferences I'd never let the President be disturbed. Conferences like that usually take at least - "
Was this really happening? " - thirty minutes," Donna suggested, unable to keep her voice from cracking. It was one thing to plan a seduction of your husband. It was an entirely different thing to have accomplices.
"Thirty minutes," the secretary confirmed with a nod.
Now she couldn't keep the blush from her cheeks. No doubt, as soon as she entered the office, Nancy McNally would be getting the word that her meeting with the President was postponed until after lunch. Glancing once more at Debbie Fiderer, she saw a surprising mix of understanding, compassion, and amusement on that unique face. With such an ally, she reassessed her plans to steal Jed from the Oval Office. Maybe there were other, even more exciting options. Quietly, she stepped into the room, noting that someone closed the door just as quietly behind her.
He didn't look up, probably was so certain it was his appointment, he didn't need to. Instead, his hand scratched out a few more notes and she took the moment to watch him. Coat off, shirtsleeves rolled up, tie loosened, hair a little scattered, glasses perched low on his nose. Very nice.
"I'll be with you in a minute, Nancy," he called, still not raising his head, the tension clear in his tone.
In her best seductive voice, she replied, "No rush, Mister President. I'd never want you to rush."
The pen paused in mid-stroke and his eyes peered out over his glasses. For a moment, he just stared at her, then a quick smile appeared and he dropped the writing instrument and tossed his glasses on the desk. But as he braced his hands on the chair arms to push up, she walked forward, shaking her head.
"Uh uh. Stay right where you are."
The smile faded; he raised a brow. "What?"
"I just wanted to visit you."
With a sigh, he let himself fall back into the chair. "It's a nice surprise, Donna, but I have a meeting in a minute. Nancy McNally." He leaned toward the intercom. "I'll see if Debbie can free me for lun - "
Her hand caught his before he could push the button and she leaned deep over his desk, feeling the welcome tingle inside as she watched his eyes fall to the curve of her breasts, almost exposed over the top of her dress. When she pulled back, he swallowed hard and glanced nervously at the door.
He cleared his throat. "Uh, Donna, is there something specific you need?"
There was her opening. She looked at him from under hooded eyelids, put as much seduction into her tone as she could. "Oh, yes," she assured him, "there is something I need."
He would have to be dense indeed to miss her intention, and Jed Bartlet was certainly not dense.
His color had risen - among other things. "Donna, I'd really like to - well, surely you know that. But I really do have a meeting." Now he frowned.
"It's Christmas Eve, Jed," she murmured huskily. "Leo's role is Scrooge, not yours."
Fighting the effects of her body so close to his, he sighed. "I know everyone wants to leave, but - "
"No buts." Her breath fluttered across his ear.
"But - "
"I said, 'no buts,'" she ordered. "Scoot back."
"What?"
"Scoot your chair back."
He did, but the suspicion on his face was clear. "What are you - "
Her long legs straddled him and she heard him swallow again. It was almost a gulp. "You're not making this easy," he accused.
"No, I want to make it hard," she assured him.
Another gulp. "Well, then you're doing a good job."
Oh yeah. She could see that. Her hand slid down his chest and past his belt buckle. She almost lost her control when her fingers brushed the straining bulge under the tight material.
"Donna," he groaned, unable to keep from arching into her touch. "I can't - we can't - "
"See, I'm here on official business," she stated.
"Uh, official business?" She saw the doubt in his eyes.
"Duty to my country," she declared, tossing the end of his tie over his shoulder, unbuttoning his shirt, and pushing the crisp fabric aside to lick a nipple.
He gasped. "Donna, I don't want to discourage you, certainly, but I really don't have the time - "
But she ignored him and continued. "Keeping their leader inspired and on top of his game."
Always intrigued by a pun, he grinned at her. "On top?"
"Any way you want it," she purred, nibbling on his chest hair. "You've been tense today, snapping at everyone."
"I have not -"
Sliding off his legs, she let her lips trail down his stomach. She was gaining his full attention now. "Yes, you have. And it's only right that I see to the morale of the staff."
"The staff?"
"The staff."
"How do you plan to do that?"
She grinned up at him before she reached her ultimate destination. "Oh, I have a plan."
One eyebrow lifted in question. "I hope it's better than Josh's secret plan to fight inflation."
"Oh yes," she assured him. "As a matter of fact, I'm counting on severe inflation."
Delicately, she danced across the hard ridge and he closed his eyes. "Oh God. I think you've got it. Do you know what you do to me?" he asked in a moan.
Yes she did. And she loved that she could do it. Her hand rested on the taut zipper, felt the strong pulse beneath her palm.
"Baby, you've got to stop. I'm going to - you've just got to stop. I mean, Nancy's going to be here in - and I'm about to - you've just got to stop." His voice was so pained that she almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
Smiling, she decided to relieve his fears. "Your meeting with the NSA has been postponed until this afternoon."
His eyes opened wider. "Really?"
She stroked him with the back of her hand. "Yeah."
"Uh, still, we need to wait for you to - "
"I thought I'd give you a Christmas present."
"But it's not Christmas yet," he reminded.
"Ah, but Christmas has - come - early."
He swallowed and made one more valiant effort to stand. "Donna, I don't want to - I'm afraid I'll - "
She shook her head. "You're not going to hurt me, Jed," she smiled.
His jaw worked. "How can you tell? Donna, I don't want - "
She twirled his chest hair playfully. "By the way, my appointment with Doctor Carlstein went quite well this morning."
All right. The double take was almost worth the whole plan. She watched as realization hit him, as his eyes lit, a fiery desire behind them.
"Your appointment - this morning?"
She nodded and squeezed him. He groaned again, falling back into the chair as he jerked in her grasp.
"Umm, Donna. I meant that about stopping. It's been too long." His face had flushed and she could tell he didn't have control. She had taken him by surprise.
She grinned and relaxed her grip. "No, it's just right."
Too concentrated on maintaining control, he missed that pun. He swallowed hard and managed to ask, "You saw Doctor Carlstein this morning?"
Another nod.
"I thought it was next week."
"Merry Christmas," she murmured, kissing his fingers.
"Are you serious?"
"Never more."
She had his pants open now, slid down the zipper and enjoyed how he spilled out eagerly, pushing against the thin fabric of his boxers. They provided little restraint. With his hips lifted just enough, she lowered his underwear so that his erection thrust up against her. Seeing from his condition that she couldn't tease much, she took him into her mouth gently. Even that light touch drew a powerful pulse and deep groan.
"Okay," he gasped, clutching her wrist, "let's go."
She lifted off him just enough to say, "Go where?" Then she got back to work.
"Ahh - go - to the - Residence."
"Uh uh." She didn't want to stop even for a minute. Didn't want to let him go now that she finally had him.
"Donna - " he warned. "Do you really intend to - well, right here in the Oval Office?"
And suddenly she realized that, yes, she did intend to - right there in the Oval Office. Standing, she straddled him again, drew his hands to her thighs, pushing the hem of her dress higher until he realized she wore nothing underneath.
"We can't - " he tried one more time.
"I want you to make love to me, Jed. Right now."
The restraint was crumbling, giving way to his own overpowering desire. "Right now?" he echoed.
She nodded.
"Right here?"
She nodded again.
One last protest. "But someone could come - "
"I'm counting on that," she quipped.
"But - "
"Ms. Fiderer has guaranteed me thirty minutes."
She felt his body jerk, but not in desire. A certain fleck of terror flashed in his eye. "What? Dear God, do you mean that insane woman is standing guard outside while we - "
She nodded, laughing at the alarm on his face.
"She's out there right now selling tickets!" he declared, making one last attempt to untangle himself.
But it was half-hearted, and Donna's hands reaching down to cup him were persuasive enough to discourage any further resistance.
"Oh, Donna," he moaned, and she felt him give up and push against her. "I tried - "
She ground her hips against him harder, feeling his thickness press against her, gasping as his fingers danced between them, slipping inside her. She had been ready for him for weeks, and now that they had been given a green light, she knew he could feel how slick she was, how hot, the anticipation growing all that time. And he knew it was all for him.
A low moan slid from his lips as she curled her fingers around the pulsing shaft and slipped it into her warm folds. His fingers brought her almost to the edge, his lips sucked at hers, and now she didn't think she could wait. He seemed quite willing, himself, to go along, so she braced her legs and lifted off him just long enough to guide him lower, feeling the thick head probe. She had planned to ease him into her slowly, sensually, teasingly, but as soon as she felt the hard pulse, she knew that simply was not going to happen. Her body reacted involuntarily, thrusting forward. She slid down on him, moaning louder than she had planned as he filled her, hard and hot.
His head fell back, his mouth opened in a deep groan, and she could tell he fought not to climax right then.
"Oh, I've missed you," she whispered, her voice husky with arousal.
Despite her assurances to him, she hadn't been positive that it wouldn't hurt. It was to her own relief that she discovered it didn't. In fact, the sheer pleasure that flooded her as he pressed inside was so incredible, she whimpered softly. He jerked back, trying to pull out, but she held him in.
"No. It's wonderful."
"Donna," he groaned, his lips sliding down her neck as his hands lifted her hips and pulled them back down hard onto him. "Oh, Donna, I don't - I can't - you feel too good."
They both tried to slow things down, to wait, but neither had the will. Unable to stop himself, he began thrusting up, strong, sure motions that carried him deep inside. His fingers still played between them and she dug her fingers in his hair and hung on.
"Come with me, Baby," he whispered roughly at her ear. "Come with me."
She had no doubt that she would, and it would be soon, too.
He flicked with his finger, then stroked both himself and her smooth folds where they met and thrust together. Her breath caught in her throat. He knew she liked that. And she did, indeed, like it. She liked it a lot.
He pushed harder; then, with a sweep of his arm, cleared the desk surface. She arched back until he grabbed her under the hips and braced his legs, lifting her onto the polished top, still inside her, but now pushing even harder and even deeper. Startled, she grabbed at him, but then realized what he needed and wrapped her legs around his hips, meeting him, drawing him far into her. Tears burned her eyes with the ecstasy of the long, powerful strokes, until she forgot where they were and cried out his name, the spasms rocking her, contracting around him as he continued his thrusts.
There were times he could be so gentle, so tender, whispering lovingly in her ear, running light caresses over her skin. And then there were times like this. No gentleness here. No tenderness. No light caresses. And she didn't want any. She wanted to feel him driving, wanted to hear his groans, wanted to see the delicious agony on his face when he came.
This was dangerous. This was wanton. This was exciting.
She arched against him hard, running a hand down his slick chest, tightening her legs around him to help him sink deep inside. And he did.
"Donna, I'm - " His jaw tightened and in only another few moments, she felt him stiffen, felt him jerk within her, welcomed the familiar hot pulses that flooded her, heard the groan of relief rumble in his chest.
The warmth between her legs, the pounding in her chest, and the tingling in her fingers and toes were delicious evidence of a thoroughly satisfying orgasm. He rocked lazily a little longer, sliding their bodies together in a dance she had missed the past seven weeks. Finally, he slowed and lay still. For a minute, they didn't move, just enjoyed the extreme intimacy of still being joined, dreading the moment they would separate. Then she thought about what it would look like if someone walked in on them. Or peeked through the windows. She had forgotten the windows.
But a quick glance revealed no peeping Toms, or Tobys, or Joshs. And the secret service had made themselves scarce, as well. She definitely owed Ms. Fiderer.
After a long, sweet kiss, he smiled down at her. "I just want to stay here for a while," he murmured.
Sounded good to her.
Then he laughed ruefully. "But I think I'm gonna be paying for this later."
She frowned. "Your back?" He had actually lifted her onto the desk, after all. And it had been no leisurely loving they shared.
"It's okay," he assured her, but she caught the grimace as he pushed up slowly, reluctantly, bracing his hands on the desk. She pouted a little as she felt him slide from her body. It had been such a good feeling to have him inside again. She straightened her dress as he pulled his pants back up. Their eyes met, and they suddenly broke into slightly embarrassed laughter at the realization of what they had just done.
"I believe it's been christened," he noted of the room.
"Yes, I believe so. Definitely christened." She grinned at him, seeing that the hair she absolutely loved was now a bit wild and falling over his forehead. His faced was flushed, and a few scattered drops of perspiration dotted his brow.
Her heart almost ached as she watched him, remembering her fears - fears than had been premature, that had been unnecessary, but fears that would always be with her, nevertheless.
"Jed?" she said, having to say it, despite the lightness of the moment.
"Hmm?" He wasn't really paying attention, was still tucking in his shirt.
"Jed, I meant it. I meant what I said."
"Said about what?"
"All the way. I want you to know I will go all the way with you."
He paused in mid-tuck, peering from under arched brows and grinning. "I'm pretty sure you just did."
Okay, she walked right into that one. "You know what I mean. The song I played for you the other day. I chose it for a reason. I'm gonna love you all the way. No matter what. Whatever the future - "
His fingers touched her lips; his arms pulled her close. "Shh. I know. Dear God, don't you think - don't you think I know that. But I won't blame you if the time comes when - if you can't - "
Now it was her turn to clamp a hand over his mouth. "Stop it right there. There are no ifs. You'll be there for me, won't you?"
Allowing her to keep him silent, he nodded.
"I'll be there for you. All the way. All the way."
And they fell against each other, touching, not with the heated, frantic passion of the previous moments, but with the secure, committed caresses of their dedication and love. She did not doubt him or herself.
They would love each other all the way.
"You have an 11:30," she told him finally, pleased at how relaxed he looked now. The Secretary of State owed her one.
He ran his fingers lightly up and down her spine. "You sure?"
"'Fraid so," she murmured against his lips, her body still humming from his talents.
"Damn."
She raised a suggestive brow and twirled a few strands of chest hair before she finished buttoning his shirt. "But I think I can arrange another conference after you're done with the Secretary."
Now he grinned, straightening his tie. "I'll get rid of him fast. What's he got to talk about anyway? Nuclear war? Terrorism? First things first. I'll meet you in the Residence."
"See you in about forty minutes, then," she confirmed, sliding her hands down his body, delighted to feel him already stirring again in anticipation.
"If I can wait that long," he muttered as she stepped toward the door. She glanced back to see him move deliberately behind his desk.
His eyes followed her out and she tried not to grin too broadly as she walked past Charlie and Debbie. The young man seemed to have trouble meeting her eyes, but the secretary tilted her head curiously and asked, "Productive conference, Mrs. Bartlet?"
"Oh yes," Donna replied, and the grin just wouldn't stay off her face.
Charlie had turned to greet the Secretary of State, who shifted nervously, having heard, no doubt, that the President was being rather difficult today. Not anymore, she figured. He nodded politely to her before entering Jed's office, but she noted that he didn't quite look her in the eye. A disturbing suspicion tickled her brain.
And it was only confirmed after the door had closed. Although she couldn't distinguish the words, she could hear the low undertone of Jed's greeting and the Secretary's response. And they weren't even speaking loudly. Dear God! If someone had reason to scream -
She felt the red heat flood her cheeks and glanced up at the two remaining people in the room. Charlie still avoided her gaze, but Debbie Fiderer regarded her with a mysterious smile.
Hesitantly, she smiled back, suppressing the flash of panic that grabbed at her. She could see the quote now, the one Charlie and Debbie could put in their book - should either chose to write one: "Of course, there was the time the President and First Lady had mind-numbing sex in the Oval Office. Everyone within twenty yards of the closed doors could hear - "
But then, with a touch of mischievous pride, she decided she didn't care. Even if the entire Cabinet knew by supper what had happened, Jed probably wouldn't mind. In fact, she'd bet he'd find it rather humorous that they were interested in it at all.
So she allowed the grin the creep out again and faced Ms. Fiderer and Charlie with her head held high. "Could you please mark another conference on the President's calendar for lunch?"
The secretary knowingly returned the grin and stepped to her desk to make a note on the schedule. "12:00 to 12:30?" she asked, face completely innocent.
With as much casualness as she could manage, Donna shrugged. "Better make it 12:00 to 1:00," she decided confidently.
Ignoring Charlie's sudden coughing attack, she strolled away from the office, already anticipating what no doubt awaited her - for lunch.
And maybe supper, too.
And perhaps a midnight snack -
"All the Way"
Lyrics by Sammy Cahn Music by Jimmy Van Heusen
"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.
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.
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.
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."