Part III: Friday
"That was an excellent idea you had today, Donna." Mrs. Bartlet called from the bathroom of the residential master suite.
Donna fidgeted just outside the door. She still felt uncomfortable in the private residence, but other staff had assured her that it was only natural for senior staff such as herself. Donna was going to have to get used to having such close access to the First Lady. "It was nothing, Mrs--"
As Dr. Bartlet breezed out of the bathroom wearing a long-sleeve black Oscar De La Renta that plunged at the neck, giving Donna a glare.
"Abby," Donna quickly corrected herself.
Dr. Bartlet walked over to her closet and began thumbing through the racks of eveningwear. "You dissolved two committees in one fell swoop. It was inspiring."
"Thanks."
"Can I ask what you're wearing to the dinner tonight?"
Donna looked down at her prim gray suit, thinking. "Well, I'm not sure yet."
"Donna, the dinner's in two hours."
"Yeah, I've been kind of busy."
Mrs. Bartlet turned to look at her. "Yes, I know. Which is why I've arranged a surprise for you."
"What?"
"A little something from my other friend Donnatella," the First Lady said, grabbing a dress from off of a hanger and walking back towards the bathroom.
Donna wrinkled her brow. "You have more than one?"
"You're a size two, right?"
"Yes. How did you.. Mrs. Um, Abby, what.."
"Here," Mrs. Bartlett said, placing the gown in Donna's hands as she re-entered her bathroom.
Donna held up the gown, glancing briefly at the designer tag sewn in the back. "Donnatella Versace?" Donna exclaimed, her eyes growing wide.
At the glittering reception for the King of Spain, the spacious checkered floor of the Cross Hall is filled with tuxedoed men and elegant ladies in demure dresses. CJ, a statuesque vision in a dark blue strapless Calvin Klein, easily spies Sam standing near one of the columns in the center of the room. She calls to him, opening her arms wide. "Samuel Norman Seaborn, as I live and breathe!"
"CJ," Sam smiles broadly as he walks over to hug her. As they break, he looks at her sweetly. "How are you?"
CJ nods. "Good. You owe me the first dance. Maybe we can do the flamenco or something."
"Or the Macarena," Sam offers.
Toby suddenly appears behind them. "I'm getting a distinct picture in my head," he says.
"Toby!" Sam shouts as the two men embrace, patting each other on the back.
"Sam," Toby replies as they stand together. "How's it going? I hear you're the little Congressman that could."
"We're making our mark. Sure, polling is rough since all the sleeper democrats who voted for me in the election have since, you know, gone back into hibernation. But my Chief of Staff's secretary just got a walk-on part on The O.C., so, we've got that going for us."
Toby smirks. "Yeah."
CJ puts her arm around Sam. "Always looking on the bright side, that's our Sam," she says playfully.
Toby looks at him. "Been drinking a lot?"
"You kidding? I think I'm keeping Grey Goose in business."
Toby smirks. "Good boy."
Josh strides over to them with an open mouthed smile. "It's like a class reunion over here!"
CJ looks behind him. "Where's Donna?"
"I don't know. I was going to escort her, but she said she had to meet with the first lady in the residence first, so I said.." Before Josh can finish his sentence, he spies Donna walking towards them from one end of the Cross Hall. Josh is frozen at the sight of her.
"Josh?" CJ asks, realizing after a moment that Josh's attention has been taken by some diversion behind her. CJ, amused, turns to see what he's looking at.
Her eye is easily caught by Donna, who is striding confidently across the ballroom floor in a dark red couture gown that hugs her body perfectly. As Donna makes her way towards them, CJ looks back at Josh, who is petrified; a deer caught in the sights of a lioness.
CJ smiles. "Josh, close your mouth," she whispers. But Josh, of course, isn't listening. When Donna is within earshot, however, Josh remembers himself. He looks back at CJ and continues as if nothing had happened.
"So.. I said..um, so, I said.. CJ, what?" Josh says as CJ begins to laugh. CJ shakes her head and waves to Donna as she finally reaches the group.
"Hi guys," she smiles.
Josh turns to her and quietly says, "Hi."
"Hi," she replies.
"You look…" Josh trails off as he loses himself again.
"..expensive." Donna sighs as she fidgets in her gown.
"I was gonna say something more like.. Incredible."
"Thanks," Donna blushes, but the moment is cut short as dinner is formally announced.
As the groups of guests make their way to the dining tables, Josh offers Donna an arm. She accepts, and they walk together in slightly awkward silence.
Behind them, CJ and Sam exchange glances and snicker. Toby is a few steps behind them, mumbling, "This is a state dinner.. We're surrounded by dignitaries and Nobel laureates.. And I'm stuck with the cast of Dawson's Creek."
As they all begin to sit down at their table, Sam notices their surroundings. Nearby, the President's table is set and ready for his formal entrance with the First Lady, the Vice President, The Chief of Staff and the King of Spain.
"We're not sitting with the President?" Sam asks, trying to hide his disappointment.
"Yeah," CJ said, looking at the carefully-prepared menu. "The presidential posse is too big to fit at one table nowadays. This is much easier. Besides, I don't think the President wants to sit with Josh anymore, after the foie gras incident."
"Hey, that was just the one time," Josh objects.
"Did you just say 'presidential posse'?" Sam leans towards CJ.
"This is all so exciting," Donna gushes as she unfolds her origami-like napkin. "I mean, I've never been to a state dinner before. Well, I've stood in the wings with phone messages and stuff, but never, you know, sat at a table and.. Eaten. With people."
"Buckle your seatbelt," Toby deadpans, smiling ever so slightly.
Donna begins to read aloud from the menu. "Spicy Roasted Prawn on chaplain with olive oil; Tournedos of Venison served with Kalamata olives-peppered goat cheese on a pine nut, Parmesan Basket with juniper berry pan jus… I don't recognize most of those words, but they make it sound good, don't they?"
Josh leans in close to her. "Stay away from the foie gras," he whispers.
Donna rested her arm around Josh's shoulder as they coasted around the dance floor to the graceful sounds of the string orchestra. As she took in the splendor of her surroundings, she felt comfortable and at ease; she'd danced with Josh a handful of times before, even if this time, it was on a giant dance floor and an honest-to-god King sat only a few feet away. Josh, on the other hand, was a stiff ball of nerves. It took him almost an hour to work up the courage to ask her to dance.
Soon, though, Donna's thoughts returned to the conversation at the table earlier, and she shut her eyes with embarrassment. "God, I must have seemed like an idiot before, going on and on about this being my first state dinner."
"Nah," Josh says.
"You guys have gone to dozens of these. Could I have sounded more naïve?"
Josh looks at her for a moment and smiles. "It was sweet. CJ and Toby and me..and even Sam.. we can be incredibly blasé about things. I think it's good to be reminded sometimes of just how special this stuff.. all of it.. really is."
Donna sighs. "I just feel so out of place."
"You'll get the hang of it," Josh says, still watching her. After a moment, he says, "How's your leg?"
"Fine. I've had so much champagne that I can't feel a thing."
Josh gives her a look of concern.
"I'm kidding," Donna replies. "It's fine." A few more moments pass while they dance together, as Donna tries to read Josh's face. "What is it?" she asks him.
Josh stiffens. "What's what?"
"Ever since I've started working for Abby, which has been exactly one week, you keep doing the "I have something to tell you but I don't want to say it" face."
"Mrs. Bartlet lets you call her Abby?"
"Josh." Donna says, gently leading him back to the subject.
Josh clenches his jaw and looks at the floor. "CJ got a heads up from one of her press sources. There's going to be a special issue cover story about you and the CODEL bombing in Newsweek."
"Ah. Okay."
Josh continues to study the floor. "And there's something else. Colin wrote it."
Donna looks down, now, as well. "He told me he might."
"Have you talked with him recently?"
Donna looks him in the eye. "No. Not for a very long time. Why do you ask?"
"No reason."
"When does the story come out?"
"Tomorrow. Are you going to be ok?"
"Sure," Donna shrugs. "I hardly remember it, Josh."
"That's not what I meant." As the song ends, the two of them slowly come apart and applaud along with the other dancers. While walking off of the floor together, though, Donna folds her arms.
"You know, you're still doing the face," she says to him.
"No I'm not."
"Yes, you are."
"No, Donna--"
"Is it about the budget committee thing today? I probably should have consulted someone outside of the first lady's office.." Donna began, her mind searching for an explanation.
"Donna! It's not that. It's.. It's.." Josh pauses, taking a deep breath. " Ok. 'Com'ere."
He puts his hand at the bottom of her back and gently leads her down a hall into a nearby empty sitting room.
A waiter passes by with a platter filled with champagne flukes, and Josh grabs a glass and takes a long swig. After putting the glass down on a nearby table, he tugs at his bowtie nervously.
Donna looks at him, concerned. As she reaches up to straighten his tie, she asks, "Are you okay?"
"Absolutely!" Josh says, his voice getting very high.
Donna's face falls. "Oh, god. I know what it is. It's about me defecting to the First Lady's camp."
"What? No.."
"I abandoned you," Donna says, pacing. "I didn't even give you notice. You've been the best boss to me, you've been patient with me when I've screwed with you; when I almost compromised the President during the hearings, you helped me out; you've given me every opportunity to be more than just someone who answers your phone and what do I do?"
"Donna.."
"I stab you in the back and cross enemy lines," Donna says, answering her own question.
Josh gently takes her by the arm and stops her. "It's not warfare, Donna. You transferred offices. You moved down the hall 800 feet. Nothing's changed, really."
Donna shakes her head. "Everything's changed. I thought it wouldn't, but.. It's so strange now. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love this. I love what I'm doing. I'm actually making a difference now. But.."
"But what?" Josh says, suddenly fascinated.
"This is really embarrassing," Donna says as she distractedly smoothes out her gown with her hands. "I miss you."
Josh tries to speak, but he can't. He feels himself start to smile as Donna continues.
"I miss seeing you 15 times a day. I miss arguing about whatever falls across your desk. I miss sitting around your office drinking beer and watching infomercials at 2 o'clock in the morning waiting for a call from Alan Greenspan about economic recovery. I miss being inside. I miss all of it. So I don't want you to think I just walked away from you without taking into account the last 6 years. The last 6 years have been the most amazing of my life. But I had to do this."
"I know you did," Josh replies. "And for the record, I miss you too. I miss you a lot." He hesitates. "Too much, in fact."
Donna smiles. "Yeah?"
Josh clenches his jaw. "Yeah."
"So if it's not this, than what is it? What do you need to tell me?"
A quick knock at the door makes both of them instinctively take a step back from each other. The door opens, and Carnie's familiar black bob peers around the edge of the doorframe. "Donna?" Carnie asks.
"Yeah," Donna replies. Carnie turns her head, and, seeing her boss, enters the room. She hands Donna a small piece of paper and leaves.
"Thanks, Carnie," Donna calls as the door shuts again. She opens the piece of paper and reads it quickly. She glances back up at Josh.
"I'll be right back."
"Wait," Josh says, taking her by the arm when she tries to pass. "I have to tell you.."
"Tell me what?" Donna says as she turns back to him, her face inches from his.
Josh holds his breath. "This," he says as he places a hand on her neck, pulls her face in closer and kisses her. Donna's body is rigid at first, but she relaxes and shuts her eyes, letting Josh explore her mouth with his. She puts an arm around his neck as he draws her in, kissing her deeper. After a moment, Donna breaks the kiss to catch her breath. She touches her mouth, barely comprehending what had just taken place.
Suddenly, the door opens and Carnie appears again. "Donna? Dr. Bartlet needs a word," she says.
Donna continues staring at Josh. "Yeah," she says, using all of her concentration to force her legs to carry her out of the room. As she passes through the doorway, though, she glances over her shoulder at him. Josh's chin is down, and he's looking up at her in a way Donna never thought would ever be possible.
Josh follows her out of the room and back into Cross Hall, where Sam appears out of nowhere and grabs Josh by the arm.
"Josh. I've been looking everywhere for you. Where did you go? One minute, you were dancing, the next minute--"
"I kissed her." Josh blurts out.
"What?"
"I kissed Donna."
"Well.. That's great! To use a Spanish metaphor, you really took the bull by the horns, there." Sam smiles broadly and pats his friend on the back.
"What did I say about you and the phrasing?"
"Sorry. So did she kiss you back?"
Josh cocks his head and smiles. "I'll say."
"Great! What are you going to do now?"
Josh's face falls. "Oh, well, I don't know. I hadn't really formulated a plan or anything. You tell me."
"Me? You're the one that kissed her."
"Yes," Josh says, puffing out his chest. "Yes I did."
Josh spots Toby coming towards them and he calls to him. "Hey Toby, you'll never guess what I just did.."
Toby's facial expression, however, causes Josh to fall silent. As Toby reaches Sam and Josh, he says quietly, "There's been a development."
"What is it?" Josh says, concerned.
"A bombing in California. Briefing in the Oval in five," he says.
"What's going on?" the First Lady insists, bursting into Donna's office.
Donna stood at her desk, quietly listening to her phone. Both ladies were still dressed in their ball gowns, and Donna didn't want to wrinkle hers by sitting.
"You'll forgive me if I stay on the phone? I have to take this," Donna says to her.
"Yes, of course."
"An abortion clinic outside of Palo Alto, California was bombed about 20 minutes ago. First estimates are thirteen dead, 4 wounded."
The First Lady lowers herself onto the couch. "Oh, god. So many."
"I'm on hold with the FBI field office now," Donna continues. "They're thinking the bomber or bombers weren't professional, and used more TNT than planned for."
"Why do they say that?" Mrs. Bartlet asks.
"Well, the bomb not only destroyed the building, but it also killed a few protestors outside as well."
As Donna continues to listen on her phone, she looks out her door and sees Josh in the hallway, on his way to the bullpen. They exchange a look.
"Thanks. You'll keep me posted? Thanks," Donna says, hanging up her phone. She looks at Dr. Bartlet. "The bomber also targeted the clinic at closing time, when less people would be in the building. Which suggests he probably only meant for it to be a scare tactic."
"Do we know who the bomber is?"
Donna shook her head. "Not yet. The FBI is under the assumption he was also killed in the blast."
The First Lady stands. "Ok. Thank you, Donna. I need to get back."
"If it's all right by you, Abby, I'm going to stick around back here and see if they find anything else out."
"Fine," Dr. Bartlet says as she walks out of the room, adding, "Let me know if you hear anything."
Over three hours had passed since Donna first got the message about the bombings. Still in her office, and now in a fresh pair of jeans and a t-shirt that she brought in Monday for just such an occasion, she mused that she didn't really mind missing the rest of the state dinner. But as the phone calls and briefings from this evening's events finally began to slow, Donna allowed herself to think back on the dance with Josh and the kiss that followed. Okay, she thinks. So maybe a bit more of the dancing and kissing would have been nice.
As if to answer her thoughts, Josh quietly appeared in her doorway, holding a six pack of beer. She noticed he'd also changed into more comfortable clothing: an un-tucked dress shirt and some slacks, aka, his work clothes from earlier.
"They're getting reports of another bombing," he says before Donna can speak.
Donna frowns. "Where?"
"Ludingtonville, New York."
Donna glances at her desk clock. "This late?"
"Yeah," Josh says, setting the beer on the floor and taking a seat in front of her.
"Was anyone hurt?"
"The cleaning crew.. Two women and one man were killed."
Donna shakes her head. "The cleaning crew? Not that this sort of thing makes any sense anyway, but.."
"Yeah, I know." Josh looks at her. "You still waiting by the phones?"
"Yeah," Donna sighs. "Another briefing from Palo Alto PD, and some contact into on the families of the victims for Dr. Bartlet."
The both sat together in her office for a moment, appreciating the quiet. Josh scratches his head. "What kind of name for a place is Ludingtonville, anyway?"
Donna gives him a look of annoyance.
"What?" Josh says.
"The town's named for Sybil Ludington," Donna begins. "During the Revolutionary war, the British Army began a surprise attack on Danbury, Connecticut, to seize and destroy Continental Army supplies stored there. Sybil, barely 16, rode throughout the neighboring homesteads, alerting the men in the militia who were out working their farms to prepare for the spring planting. She risked detection from British soldiers and loyalists, and her journey was almost twice the length of Paul Revere's. The town was later named for her."
"Oh," Josh replies.
"If there's one thing I've learned in the maybe 60 hours that I've held this job, Josh, it's that women have to fight harder and shout louder to be recognized, and when we are finally acknowledged, we're called bitches or blown up or lauded and then forgotten."
Donna rests her cheek on her hand. "We don't even know.." she sighs. "We don't even know how many women died tonight. Women who were doing something that was legal, and private, and brave. I'm the assistant to the First Lady of the United States, I should be able to do more for them. But all I can do is sit by a phone. That's it? That's all?"
"For now, yes," Josh says softly.
"What am I supposed to do in the meantime?"
Josh leans down and takes a bottle of beer from the six pack. He hands it to her, then walks over to the tv on top of her bookshelf. Turning it on, he grabs the remote control and begins flipping through the channels, pausing briefly on the infomercials. "Which one do you want, the fitness video one or the midgets selling real estate?"
Donna opens her beer. "The salad shooter."
After finding the right channel, Josh grabs another beer and sits on the couch. "You know, some men died tonight, too," he says.
"Gynos and housekeepers don't count. They're like honorary women."
"See, you can make sexist jokes, but if I tried to do that.."
"Because it's my office."
Josh smiles. "Yes, it is."
After a moment, Donna stands up from her desk and walks over to join Josh on the couch. As she lowers herself into the seat cushion next to him, she nervously tucks a blonde tendril of hair behind her ear.
Josh was giving her that look again; and it made Donna shiver. She leaned into him, the entire length of her side touching his. Josh reaches down and places his beer on the floor as he wraps his arms around her.
"Thank you," she whispers as she kisses him tenderly.