Title: Bumbling
Author: ScullyAsTrinty
Rating: PG
He pretended that he didn't want to kiss her. That, of course, did not work. As per usual, as was the day-to-day routine, she saw straight through him, grinning when she caught onto his inner dialogue.
"Josh."
His eyes snapped out of the trance they seemed to be set in. He was standing on her doorstep and his hands felt unusually barren. Maybe he should have brought flowers; maybe he should have brought a... plant. Perhaps he should have brought her food?
Wait, no, food was the way to a man's heart, not to a woman's. Shaking his head to relieve himself of the strange line of thinking, he met her eyes with certain determination. Joshua Lyman was not one to back down... and he certainly wasn't one to back down before even, uh, stepping up.
He kinda wished it was snowing, then he wouldn't even have to create the air of romance. He hated doing that. It was just so difficult and time consuming. He didn't want to build a freakin' fire or anything, and he certainly was not in the mood to read her poetry. In fact, he wasn't even sure he'd committed any poems to memory...
All of a sudden, he had a certain dislike for T.S. Eliot and-
"Is there a reason you're here or are you just content to stand there all evening?"
Truth be told, he could have stood there all night. He could have stood there all night without even thinking about knocking. Joshua Lyman had incredible staying power. It was in his blood.
The only word he could have derived to describe her at that moment was spectacular. Perhaps he could have accompanied that with the lovely word disheveled, but thoughts of literary impression left his mind when she shifted her hips and stared him down.
It was impossible for him to quirk his lips in the way that she had, but he attempted anyway. He was sure that he had come there with a plan; after all, he was a player in politics and knew how to plan with the best of em. But the plans were gone, and he couldn't quite remember what his intentions were. They were muddied, blurred, with her standing before him.
Standing before him in some sort of pink, silky material of a robe. Underneath, she was nothing but flannel and cotton, but she was wrapped in utter oblivion that he had to struggle to tear his eyes away before she caught on. When he did, he realized he was too late.
She laughed at him and her hair fell in her face before she pushed it behind an ear, looking far too come hither for his brain to handle. He nearly short-circuited and bit his lip to keep from saying something incredibly stupid.
Her voice was flat when she spoke again. "Are you going to kiss me?"
His mouth agape, and dry for that matter, Josh began to attempt to speak. It was a moment before he was able to form a coherent word. "Probably not."
Donna smirked and leaned against her doorframe, startling in silk and skin. "Do you want to?"
If it was possible for him to lose semblance of the English language, he did, in that moment and stared at her, a young boy looking up to the pretty girl in the class ahead of him. "Yes."
Donna smiled knowingly, drew her robe tightly around her and met his eyes. Devilishly simple. "Goodnight Joshua." And shutting the door in his face, she returned to bed, a cement smile plastered to her face.