AUTHOR'S NOTES: Here is where we go into Spoiler land… I do hate to go back and read what people have done to stories when the show has taken a different tack, but I'm going to go ahead and write this anyway. There are spoilers in here for mid-season 6, but I won't tell you what they are.
I'm not liking the way Josh has become an asshole in the show, but I'm going to take it and work with it. I can see where it brings up potential for good storylines, but then again, I won't get my hopes up too much.
Props to Susie and Birdie for encouraging me to keep writing… Thank you, my friends. You are truly goddesses in this realm.
PHOTOGRAPHS (7)
How long did you wait before you fucked him, Donna? Did you even wait to finish the first drink?
Looking out the window of his office, his feet propped on the sill, Josh thought back over those words and wondered what had possessed him to say them out loud. In the three weeks since that fateful night, his entire life, professional and personal, had entered a realm of misery he had never before experienced. Not in the time after the shooting, or the MS disclosure, or even the days after Donna's liaison with Cliff Cauley and the diary.
I'm not yours, Josh. You don't own me. I can do as I please.
He never thought she would act on those words.
XXXXXXXX
When he had gotten back from New York, he had rushed into C.J.'s office, flush with his victory.
"Victory is mine!"
C.J. looked up at him, lifting one eyebrow and gently setting down her coffee cup.
"Victory is mine!!!" Josh threw himself down in the visitor's chair and mocked shining his nails on his lapel, "I am da man."
"I see," said C.J. "Was there a need to call the police? Do I need to warn Toby about possible questions from the press at his next briefing?"
Josh turned serious. "No. I got him to sign this," he said tossing the Confidentiality Agreement on her desk, "and I don't believe we will hear from him again."
C.J. looked at the Agreement and up at Josh, "You can't tell me that you drafted this."
Josh looked offended, "I have a law degree, Claudia Jean…"
"And you've never practiced a day in your life, Joshua! You aren't admitted to a single bar in the United States! Well, not the kind of bars that matter," she laughed, shaking her head at him.
Josh looked at his feet and smiled, "No. I didn't write it. I called Sam last night and he put it together for me."
"Spanky? Well, at least we know that it's legally binding then…" C.J. nodded, setting the document aside on her desk. "He's really going to abide by this?"
"Oh yeah," he replied, the steely look in his eye taking her breath away momentarily. "You can count on it."
Wisely, C.J. let the point die there, not wanting to know any details in case, God forbid, she saw another grand jury subpoena one day. Looking at Josh she noted how tired he seemed and how much older he looked from that day when she met him on Bartlet's first campaign.
Looking up and catching her eye, Josh asked, "What?"
"I was noticing how tired you look," she replied, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. "When was the last time you had a good night's sleep?"
"Yeah, well, I can't sleep if I'm busy fighting the good fight," his laugh sounding far from genuine. He waited a few minutes and then asked, "Can I ask you a question?"
"Shoot," she replied.
"Ever wonder what we are doing here? I mean, it was really clear to me when we started, but now…" Josh made a questioning gesture with his hands.
"Yeah. Sometimes," C.J. admitted with a deep sigh. "But, it's what we do."
"I guess," he replied, looking down at his hands, the silence settling uncomfortably between them. "It's funny. I talk to Matt Santos and I see the way we used to be. I wonder where along the line we changed."
"Is he going to run again?" C.J. asked, knowing that Josh had been working on the Texas congressman for weeks.
"He says no, but I keep trying," he replied smiling, the dimples coming out for the first time in several days. "He's the real thing, C.J. The real thing."
The two sat in silence for a moment, remembering what it was like to work with "the real thing" as they had in the first campaign. Things had certainly changed over the years and they had all been through more than anyone had ever anticipated.
"C.J.," Josh started, leaning forward with his arms on his thighs, "About what I said the other night…"
"Josh. It's ok. I know you were upset. And in some respects, you were right."
"No, C.J. I was way out of line. What you told Donna… you were right. I have been holding her back because I don't want to be without her. It wasn't fair to her at all."
"Josh…"
"No, really. I've been thinking about what you said and what Donna said and you were both right." He was looking at his hands, refusing to meet her eye.
"Then why don't you go tell her that?" C.J. asked quietly.
"I don't think that is going to happen any time soon," his laugh was dry and harsh, "Things have been said that can't be taken back."
"You two have fought before. You always make up."
"Yeah," he said, getting to his feet and making his way to the door, "But I don't know about this time."
XXXXXXXX
He had returned to his office, noticing that Donna's desk was empty. After taking off his coat and throwing his backpack on a chair he went back out into the bullpen to check on his messages. When he got to Donna's desk, he noted that it looked like she hadn't been in at all that day. He walked over to Ginger, trying to act nonchalant, hiding the fact he was deeply worried.
"Ginger, have you seen Donna?"
Ginger looked up from her computer, "She called out today, Josh."
"Out?"
"Yeah, out. Sick. Not here."
"Oh, ok…" he muttered wandering back to his office. As he sat behind his desk, he resisted the urge to call her, knowing that he was probably the reason why she was avoiding the White House. Donna never called in sick. Every ten minutes, he caught himself picking up the phone, dialing her number, and then hanging up before the ringing began.
At about 8:00 that evening, after most of the staff in the bullpen had left, Josh was sitting at his desk staring out the window. A noise in his doorway caused him to spin around in his chair – C.J. was standing against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching him.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"Whatcha thinking about?"
"Nothing. What are you doing over here? Don't you have things to torment Margaret with?"
C.J. walked in and sat down in the chair across the desk, "No. I sent her home. It's an easy night tonight."
"Yeah. I guess it is."
Clearing her throat and looking uncomfortable, C.J. leaned forward, "Josh, Donna called me this afternoon."
He looked up at C.J. with a questioning expression, "What's up?"
"Josh, she got a job offer."
Josh blinked twice and opened and closed his mouth several times. C.J. watched him closely, not wishing to have another fight with him. One encounter with the Lyman temper in the course of two days was more than enough for her.
"A job offer?" Josh sputtered, "From who?"
"It came from Russell's office. They want her to work on his campaign."
"The Vice President has offered her a job?!" Josh sat back in his seat and rubbed his face.
"Yes… And she's going to take it," C.J. let the words sit in the air between them, carefully watching Josh's reaction.
Josh stood up, shoved the chair back and started to pace. Running his hands through his hair and then shoving them in and out of his pockets, he made the perfect picture of a man who was holding onto himself with a great deal of effort.
"What's the job?"
"She's going to be Communications Director for the campaign. She'll start next week."
"Next week?" Josh stopped pacing and looked at C.J. She thought she could see his heart breaking. She wanted to try and convince him that this would be a good choice for Donna, but knew that if she pushed the issue too far, he would explode.
"Yes, Josh. Next week. This is a great opportunity for her."
Josh threw himself down in his chair and put his head in his hands. "Yeah. It is." The events of the last few days were rushing through his head, and his arguments with C.J. and Donna were echoing in the back of his mind.
I'm still just another faceless cog in the administrative wheel. I don't really matter and that depresses me.
She's not going to go anywhere working for you because you won't let her go.
I am nothing outside of that job – I have no life, no future that doesn't surround making sure you get to the right meeting on time!
"Josh…"
"C.J., I don't want to talk about this. Not right now."
"Josh. Don't freak out on her. It's not what she needs right now," she said, getting up from the chair and moving toward the door, "She's putting her life back together."
Josh took his hands away from his eyes and looked up at C.J.
"Putting her life back together?" he mused, "Yeah."
While mine is falling apart.
XXXXX
When she returned to work the next day, Donna mentioned nothing about the new job. In fact, it went unmentioned between the two of them for the remainder of her time as assistant to the DCoS. It was the big pink elephant in the corner that they both refused to acknowledge.
Josh would often stop and look at her, wondering what had happened between them, wondering what he would do when she was gone, and then stopping that line of thought as he felt the lump begin in his throat. There were times when he thought she was looking at him, but when he lifted his head, the doorway was empty. They danced around each other for days, talking only when necessary. The rest of the staff was acutely aware of the tension and everyone gave them both a wide berth.
The evening of her last day, there was a small party in the bullpen. He had wanted to join them, but felt his presence wasn't necessarily welcome. After all, he had let everyone assume he was the bad guy (wasn't he?) and he knew that the other assistants viewed him with nothing short of contempt. He was certain that they all believed he had driven Donna out by being a total asshole of a boss and he didn't do anything to change that perception.
As he put on his coat and slung his backpack over his shoulder hoping to sneak out unnoticed, he caught sight of her, laughing with Ginger, Margaret and Carol, her head thrown back and her eyes sparkling. He was suddenly reminded of the photograph on her bookshelf from the Inaugural.
What has happened to us? he thought. I should have begged her to stay. I should have told her that everything she said was right. I should have explained why I did what I did. I should have…
Shaking his head and running a hand over his eyes, he turned and headed toward the lobby. Tonight was her night. She was at the very edge of a whole new life, a new career and a new position of independence. It was everything she had been wanting and he knew he couldn't stand in her way.
The time for talking was over and, for once, Josh Lyman held his tongue and walked away.
(To be continued.)
