Title: Secrets
Author: ScarlettMithruiel
Classification: H, R
Summary: It was stupid to think Josh couldn't keep secrets.
Disclaimer: Parents and friends chipped in and bought me West Wing for Christmas! I was so happy! I could fire John Wells! Just kidding. It still belongs to John Wells.
Author's Note: I was at a deadend for the next chap of Bipartisanship, and this had been fermenting in my brain, so…enjoy. Hope they're in character. If not, just holler. I'll try and fix.
It was stupid to think that he couldn't keep secrets. He was in one of the highest positions of power in the country. He didn't exactly blab all the secrets of National Security to the Washington Post or anything. So why didn't she trust him? What had she said to him before he left for work? Just…you know…feel free to walk around my living room a bit, so that you don't strut when you get there. Strut? He did not strut! He walked like any normal person did! With that, he had huffily gone to work.
Last night had been wonderful. The catalyst had been her wardrobe, amazingly. Usually, he had enough strength to calm the beast within. He grinned cheekily as he continued to walk in the brisk DC weather. Her dress had shown him glimpses of her milky, pale skin. Enough to entice him to…attack…her. He crinkled his nose. He hadn't attacked her. He had just…been a bit enthusiastic. Yes. That was the way to word it.
He had managed to return with her to her apartment. Fumbling and stumbling, they managed to enter her apartment without breaking or fracturing anything. From there, she had warned him numerous times to watch out for her roommate's cats. Like he gave a damn about whether or not the cats were okay. They had fallen onto her bed and he had practically shaken with excitement. Practically.
He looked up and noticed the menacing obsidian wrought iron gates. He was nearing them with each step. The Doppler Effect. He smiled. Although the Doppler Effect was for sound rather than sight. He felt it still applied. He remembered the sounds she had made, those unqiue sounds. And her fluid motions that had granted them both so much freedom and release. He smiled.
But this morning. She had released the bombshell. She had told him that he strutted—strutted!—at work when he was in an overall good mood. He refused to believe that. He was a man in a position of high power. He could keep secrets. It was stupid to believe he couldn't. If he somewhat had Congressman in his control, why couldn't he control his own walking habits? Yes, it was stupid indeed. And she had wanted him to wander her living room a bit to "get the strutting out of his system." He snorted and shook his head. Donna.
He walked through security and headed up to his office. He greeted staff as he saw them. Well, greeted the ones he knew fairly well anyway. He waved to Bonnie and Ginger and he headed to his office to set his stuff away. After setting his stuff away and rearranging the files on his desk that spilled over from yesterday, he headed for some coffee. Despite their glorious night, Donna still refused to fetch him coffee. He poured himself a cup, and began to head back to his office.
What the hell was Donna worried about? No one had said anything to him yet. Just like her to worry about his walking. There was nothing wrong with his walking. He didn't strut.
"Josh?" He turned to see Sam, poised at the coffee machine.
"Yeah?"
"You got laid." Josh fluttered his eyes closed. Fuck. And somewhere, in the back of his mind, he could vaguely hear Donna say in a taunting fashion, "I told you so."