A Waste of Shaved Legs
Summary: After making statements in New Hampshire, Josh and Donna run into each other in Iowa.
Author's Notes: I guess you could call this a post-ep to King Corn, but I like to call it a change-ep, as I've changed the scenes in the episode to fit my story line. You can probably expect to see a "change-ep" fic for future J/D centered episodes this season. We'll see if I'm able to make them fit this story line I've got going without being completely out in left field.
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"Can you, ah, hold the elevator?" I hear just as the elevator door closes. I hit the button and it opens again and Josh steps inside talking on the phone. I blame the late hour, my lack of sleep, and the two coach section plane trips in two days on not recognizing his voice. Had I, I probably wouldn't have tried so damn hard to reach the button.
It takes him a few seconds to notice me, at which point he asks some guy named Stewart to call him back in five minutes. It makes me inexplicably happy that he was talking to a man, which in turn just pisses me off even more. How does he do that to me? Don't answer that. It was a rhetorical question.
"Just get back?" he asks me. I don't reply. I just continue shooting daggers out of my eyes.
"How's it going for you guys?" he asks several seconds later when it becomes apparent that I'm not going to answer. Again, I just stare straight ahead.
I'm just saying. I made a statement. I made a statement because he made a statement and I felt bad because I hadn't reacted to his poorly timed statement the way he wanted me to. And because CJ called me a chicken and being called a chicken can't go unanswered. So I made a statement. A statement that was far less obvious to anyone who might have been looking at us, but was still just as obvious to him as his statement had been to me.
So I made the statement and he seemed to enjoy it. He, in fact, had asked me to stay and statement with him some more, which not only led me to believe he enjoyed the statement, but made me giggle like a seventh grader being asked to her first school dance.
So, after the earlobe sucking, I did what any normal woman would do. I finished my work for the day as quickly as possible so I could get to my hotel room and get ready for the first time I'd ever have sex with Josh Lyman. Let's face it; I've pictured this at least twice over the last seven years. Maybe three times, but I'm not willing to admit to any more than that. Things like that are between me, Barb Driscoll, my best friend from high school, my diary, and by extension Cliff Calley.
So, seeing as how I've… considered sex with Josh two to three times previously, I knew exactly how I wanted the night to go. And, it being January in New Hampshire, I had things I needed to do for the night to be perfect. Things like shaving my legs. What? Like you shave your legs everyday in the winter? Right. Twice a week unless I'm having sex, and that's a good week.
So I left the office early for the day and headed back to the bed and breakfast. I showered; shaving my legs and using my sugar scrub, then applied pearberry body lotion generously. I know Josh likes the smell of pearberry lotion on me. He once mentioned it when he was drunk and sleeping it off on my couch. I remember, because I had leaned over him to pull the blanket up to his chin, and he had taken a big sniff and then told me that I smelled as beautiful as I looked. Then, as I stood immobile over him, trying to regain the power of breath, he had kissed me on the cheek, then closed his eyes and immediately began snoring softly. As usual, he didn't remember any of that the next morning.
I'm sorry, back to the story. I had showered, sugared, pearberried, and painted my toenails, another activity that usually doesn't take place in the winter. In fact, I didn't even have any nail polish with me; I had to run out to the drugstore on the corner for some, where I also picked up a box of condoms. I'm on the pill, but couldn't really fathom a guess at when Josh had last slept with Amy Gardner. You just never can be sure with him.
Anyway, when I was leaving for the drugstore, I asked the innkeeper to start a fire in my room, and it was going nicely when I returned. And although I didn't have any sexy pajamas with me, I had found a black lace underwear/bra set that I figured would do nicely. So I put that on with a black skirt that goes just above the knee and a form fitting v-neck shirt that showed a little cleavage. And then I waited. And waited. And waited…
And now, I just want to tear his head off. "So, uh… how've you…" he trails off when I give him the evil eye and look back towards the elevator door.
It had been after midnight that night when I'd called CJ and yelled at her once again for her crazy ideas and her daring and her chicken sounds, and she had informed me that she was ten years older than me and single and that should've been clue enough not to listen to her. I had to admit that she had a valid point, and then we'd both crawled into our respective beds and gossiped.
"Is it possible that he didn't understand the statement you were making?"
"I sucked on his earlobe, CJ. That's a departure from our usual banter."
"Cause that probably wouldn't have gone over so well here in the White House," she said casually.
"I can't be sure, but I'd always assumed that sort of thing would be frowned upon," I said just as casually.
"Regardless, we're pretty sure he understood that statement. I mean, even Josh would get that. I think."
"And I know he saw the post-it note with my room number on it. I watched him read it with a silly grin on his face from just inside the post office."
"And he just didn't show? He finally got the green light and he didn't show?" She was as surprised as I was.
"No. And I went to a lot of trouble CJ. I had a fire and sexy underwear."
"You even shaved, didn't you?"
"Yes, and painted my toenails," I said in a pouty voice.
"In January?"
"Exactly!"
"I could probably have him killed now without too much of a fuss."
"Really?"
"I'm surprised daily at the amount of power I have," she said, making me laugh yet still leaving me a bit scared. I mean, this is CJ. CJ Cregg, who once begged me to help her come up with a plan to hide the fact that she broke a sacred cat statue.
"Hmm… I'll think about it."
"Do that. What else is going on?"
"Well, there's a twenty year-old volunteer that has it pretty bad for Will."
"Really?" she asked me, surprised. Will's strange. He's got a weird face. She and I have discussed it many times.
"Yeah, it's pretty pathetic. And he's absolutely clueless. She could walk into his office naked and he'd just ask where the information he'd asked her for was."
"Hey, Carol had a date last night with FedEx Fred."
"FedEx Fred?" I screeched.
"The one and only," she'd said with pride. Like Carol was her protégé and had won the prize. FedEx Fred, whose actual name is Mark, is hot. I mean hot. He's been delivering FedEx packages to the White House for three years. Ginger, Carol, CJ and I have been hanging around the front gate between 9:30 and 10:00 as much as possible ever since. Besides Josh, FedEx Fred is the thing I miss most from the White House. Well, him and the chocolate chip cookies from the mess. Betty used to call me in the bullpen when they came out of the oven and I would go down and get them while they were warm. I miss her too. But not as much as FedEx Fred.
We'd talked about other things too; Toby's grumpy mood now that Sam and Josh were both gone and the cafeteria guy who she missed flirting with because Margaret had her on a strict diet to prevent another chief of staff having a heart attack. At one, we'd said goodnight and I'd tried unsuccessfully to put out the fire before going to sleep. The next morning, I left for Maine.
"I'm, uh… sorry I didn't…" he trails off.
"Whatever. It's fine," I say with a tone of ice.
"Yeah. I can tell," he says sarcastically.
"I just… never mind." How slow is this fucking elevator?
"What?"
I finally turn and face him. "You acted like you…forget it."
"I did!" he screeches in his voice that I usually love but makes me want to rip his head off his shoulders right now.
"Yeah, I could tell," I say heatedly.
"I… we had a thing and… people showed up we weren't expecting, and I didn't get out of there until almost midnight. I didn't want…"
"To call?" I ask.
"No. I didn't want to…" He trails off again just as the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open.
I look at him for a second, but he doesn't make any attempts to explain himself, so I grip the FedEx tube tighter and grab my suitcase. "Yeah, I got that message loud and clear," I say and start to leave the elevator.
I'm half way out of the elevator when he grabs the end of the FedEx tube and yanks it back towards him. "Wait," he says.
"Why?" I ask him pointedly. "You haven't given me one good reason to." I pull on the tube, but he doesn't let go of it.
"I didn't want to make you a stop on my way home. I wanted to be able to spend time with you."
"You could've called. You could've called and said 'I'm sorry, but I'm not going to make it tonight.' That would've killed you?" He just looks at me. "Let go of the box. I'm tired and I want to go to bed," I say, yanking it again.
"I called the inn the next morning. You'd checked out," he says, keeping a grip on the box.
I glance to the door just as it closes. Who in the hell does he think he's fooling? "I have a cell phone, you know," I say as I hit the door open button. "Until two weeks ago, I was number one on your speed dial."
"You still are."
"Be still my heart. Let go of the damn box." He looks at me for a second and lets go of the box. I turn and step out of the elevator, refusing to look back even as I hear the doors close again.
"Donna…" he says. He followed me out of the elevator? What the hell?
"I made a statement!" I shouted, keeping my back to him.
"I know!"
Realization hits me and I spin around to face him. "That's why you stood me up," I say in shock.
"What?" he asks, looking at me like I've grown a third eye.
"You stood me up because of the way I reacted to your statement. It was payback."
"No," he says, shaking his head back and forth.
"That's it! I didn't react to your statement the way you wanted me to, so you thought, 'let her light a fire and play soft music and shave her legs and buy condoms and paint her toenails and put on sexy underwear, and then see how she likes it when I stand her up.' Well, this is how I like it!" I shout.
His eyebrows shoot up. "You… bought condoms?"
I roll my eyes. "Go to hell." I turn to leave and Josh grabs the FedEx tube again. I decide whatever's in the tube isn't worth standing there in humiliation any longer, and I let if fall from my arm and start heading down the hall.
I make it all of three steps before I feel his hand on my elbow, pulling me back to him again. When I turn around to yell at him, he pushes me against the wall and kisses me. It's short and hard and I'm far too stunned to do anything but stand there, unmoving and not participating.
"I'm sorry," he says when he pulls back from me. He still has a grip on my elbow that doesn't hurt, but makes it clear that he doesn't want me to leave. And he's standing very close. "I wanted to be there. I really wanted to be there. I'm not sure there are words to express how badly I wanted to be there. I wasn't standing you up on purpose, I just… I couldn't make it and I was afraid to call because I thought you'd be mad, so I chickened out and called the campaign office the next morning to leave you a message so I wouldn't have to say it to your face. But they said you were going to Maine and wouldn't be in. Then I called the inn and they said you'd checked out and I knew I had to call your cell, but I put it off and put it off and then it had been three days and it seemed ridiculous to call at that point. And then it seemed ridiculous period, because I realized that you of all people know how the campaign trail is and wouldn't have been mad at all if I'd just called and told you that night."
I shake my head slightly. "I wouldn't have been mad. Not if you'd called."
He closes his eyes and then looks at me. "I know." We stare at each other. "I'm no good at this," he whispers.
"Well," I say with a serious voice. "You're going to have to get better."
He nods and smiles slightly. "I will. I promise I will. Just…give me a chance to."
Now it's my turn to smile and nod. I lean forward to kiss him, and let my lips graze his lightly. Then I kiss his cheek lightly, and then his ear. He groans and I feel his hands on my face, pulling me back to his mouth and this kiss is anything but light as he leans his weight on me and puts his hand in my hair, our tongues tasting every bit of each other's mouth.
I have no idea how long we stand there like that, but we rip apart from each other as the elevator door opens again. We're both panting as though we've run a marathon and I glance over and notice three of the buttons on his shirt are undone and his tie is pulled loose from around his neck. I wonder how that happened.
"Josh, good," says Matt Santos.
"Uhh… Governor."
"I have an idea about tomorrow's speech. I was just coming to get you." When he says that, he looks at me and tilts his head a little. "Hello," he says.
I stare at him like I've just been caught behind the bleachers. "Um… hi."
"Congressman," says Josh. "This is, umm… this is Donna Moss."
He smiles and reaches his hand out. "Hi."
Still shocked and horrified, I shake his hand and try to smile. "Hello."
"Do you need a minute?" he asks Josh.
Josh looks at me and starts to talk when I jump in. "No, we're done for tonight. We can finish this later." He starts to protest, but I smile at him so he knows I'm not mad.
"You sure?" he asks me quietly.
I nod and keep smiling. "Good luck tomorrow, Congressman," I say, picking up the FedEx tube and heading down the hall. I'm three or four doors down when I hear the congressman laugh and tell Josh he might want to wipe the lipstick off his face.
