AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, this chapter presents the perfect opportunity for some cheap porn or even cheaper fluff, but I'm going to restrain myself. Both of the characters are too elegant for that. Plus, it would ruin where I want to take the story. So don't yell at me.
PHOTOGRAPHS (9)
Josh was passing through the bullpen when the voice of the newscaster stopped him in his tracks.
"…exploded in Gaza. I repeat, there has been a report that a convoy of peacekeepers and American officials has been attacked in Gaza. There have been several explosions…"
Josh tried to focus on the television, but felt himself being shot back in time to the news of the CODEL attack. Donna? Where is Donna? Shaking his head and trying to get a grip on himself, he forced his feet to take him to C.J.'s office to see what needed to be done.
When he arrived, C.J. was watching the same report on CNN, shaking her head in disbelief.
"This is never going to stop, is it?"
"No. It's not," he replied, mesmerized by the film rolling on the television screen.
"Look, I have to go in with the President," C.J. stated, collecting files and papers off of her desk. "Hold down the fort for me?"
"Yeah, no problem."
Josh remained fixated on the television as C.J. left the office to go report to the President. He couldn't shake the feeling of déjà vu.
XXXXX
It was late that night, after they had determined the number of dead and the President had made the requisite phone calls, that Josh, C.J. and Toby got together in Toby's office for a beer and some time to decompress.
"I don't think I will ever get used to this," C.J. said to no one in particular, taking a long pull on her beer and putting her feet up on the coffee table.
"What?" Josh said, "Sitting in the White House drinking beer, being Chief of Staff to the leader of the free world, or having to deal with National crises on a daily basis?"
C.J. took another swig from the beer bottle and said, "All of the above."
"That's nice," Toby replied from behind his desk, "Gives me comfort to know that the people running this country are completely uncomfortable doing so."
"Toby!" C.J. laughed, "That's…"
There was a knock on the door and all three looked up to see Ginger standing in the doorway.
"I thought I told you to go home," Josh said, shifting in his seat.
"You did. I had a couple of things to finish… You have a phone call," Ginger told him, still hovering in the doorway.
"Take a message, will you?" Josh said running his hands through his hair.
"I think you should take this," Ginger pushed, looking at C.J. and Toby uncomfortably.
"Unless it's Angelina Jolie calling for a date.."
"Or Mike Piazza calling to say 'Dude'," C.J. interjected laughing.
"Or that, yes," Josh laughed, "I don't want to talk to them."
"Josh," Ginger said softly, "It's Donna."
Josh's head snapped up to look at Ginger and C.J. and Toby looked at one another questioningly. It was common knowledge that the silence between Josh and Donna had not gotten any better and that even mentioning her name put him in a ferocious mood for the rest of the day.
Leaping out of the chair and brushing by Ginger, Josh ran to his office and picked up the blinking phone extension.
"Donna?"
He heard weeping on the other end of the phone and he began to panic, "Donna, are you ok? Where are you?"
"Josh…please…please, come help me."
The words were hard to make out through the sobs and Josh tried hard to fight the terror in his own breast as he talked to her, Where is she? What happened?
"Donna? Where are you?"
"Home…"
"Ok, I'll be there in a few minutes, ok?"
He heard the phone go dead. Grabbing his coat and his backpack, he ran out of the White House and to his car.
XXXXXX
Climbing the stairs to her apartment, Josh was happy that he had never returned her apartment key to her after she left to go work for Russell. He had contemplated mailing it to her, but couldn't bring himself to part with it. Mentally, he would chastise himself for being a stalker, but in his heart, he had always hoped he would have occasion to use it again.
Stopping short at her door, he knocked softly. There was no answer. He knocked a little harder and said her name. Still no answer. Pulling out his keyring, he found her key and opened the apartment door slowly, not wanting to scare her if she had not heard his initial knocks.
Walking into the apartment, Josh noticed that things were in a state of disarray, shoes haphazardly strewn on the floor, a coat thrown over the back of the chair in the hallway. As he moved further into living room, he noticed that the television was playing CNN – a constant newscast of the recent Gaza attack. They had moved on to replaying coverage of the CODEL attack, presenting a retrospective of violence in the region in the past year. It was at this point that Josh began to realize what may have happened and began to get increasingly concerned.
"Donna?"
He moved into the kitchen where an ice tray had been left to melt on the counter next to a glass and a bottle of soda. It appeared that whatever had happened, Donna had been interrupted in the middle of her evening routine.
"Donna!"
Josh moved faster through the apartment, truly scared now for what he might find. Opening the bedroom door, he heard muffled sobs in the corner. Rather than turning on the light, he relied upon the streetlights coming in through the double windows to guide him across the room to where Donna was sitting, knees to her chin, head buried in her arms. Josh could see her rocking back and forth, sobs wracking her body.
"Donna?" He knelt down beside her, careful not to touch her. "It's Josh."
The sobs continued and Josh was unsure if she could hear him. He remembered his own post-traumatic stress attack that Christmas at the White House and knew that she might be in a world of her own making that didn't include the immediate world.
"Donna, it's Josh," he said firmly, but softly, "I'm here."
Putting his arms around her, he tried to silence the rocking while at the same time, not restrain her forcefully. At first, she seemed to resist his embrace, but after a moment, she leaned against him and slid her arms around his neck. Josh was still uncertain that Donna truly knew what was going on, but he thought that he was making a little progress.
"It's okay, Donnatella," he whispered, "Let it out."
After about ten minutes of silently sitting and letting her cry, Josh noticed that the sobs had become quieter and the rocking less frantic. Brushing the hair out of her eyes and away from her face, Josh kept whispering to her in an effort to bring her back to the current reality.
"Josh…," she said finally, taking a deep breath to calm her sobs.
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry."
He gasped quietly and was certain his heart was going to break. "There is nothing you need to be sorry about, Donnatella. Least of all to me."
"I shouldn't have called. It's just… I saw the television… the attack…," she seemed to begin to lose her composure again and Josh held her tighter, hoping she would get strength from his grip.
"Donna, you know you can call me any time. I'm always here for you," he said, his voice catching in his throat. "And I know what you are going through right now. I'm here."
They sat for a little while longer in silence until Josh pulled his arms from around her and kneeled in front of her, "Why don't you go take a warm shower, ok? It'll make you feel better. I'll make you a cup of tea."
In the shadows, he could see her nod in agreement, "Yes, that sounds good."
"Ok." Josh stood up and reached down for her. Donna put her hands in his and slowly stood up, unsteady on her feet. He walked her to the bathroom and made sure she was inside before he headed to the kitchen.
Walking by the television, he turned off the newscast, selecting instead, an old black-and-white movie he recognized but couldn't place. Donna would know, he thought. He collected the shoes from the middle of the floor and hung the coat up in the hall closet. Moving to the kitchen, he put on the tea-kettle and cleaned up the ice tray and the pool of water on the counter. Josh moved back into the bedroom and stood by the bathroom door, he knocked and opened it just a crack, "Donna? You ok?"
"Yes. I'm fine," was the reply, barely audible over the sound of the water. "I'll be out in a minute."
He stepped away from the door, turned on a small light on the bedside table, and went back out into the kitchen where the tea-kettle was screaming. After pouring water into two cups and carrying them out to the living room, he sat down on the sofa and waited.
A few minutes later, Donna emerged from the bedroom dressed in flannel pajama bottoms and one of his old Harvard t-shirts.
"I wondered what happened to that t-shirt," Josh joked, sliding down to one end of the sofa.
Sheepishly looking down at the shirt, Donna replied, "I meant to give this back… it just never happened."
"It's ok," Josh said, "It looks better on you than it ever did on me."
Donna sat down on the sofa, tucking her feet up underneath of her, and held the cup of tea in both hands. Josh studied her carefully over the rim of his cup, noting the dark circles under her eyes and the pallor in her face. The weeks since he had seen he had made her look older, more mature, and at the same time, more vulnerable. Donna caught him looking at her and began to blush.
"Stop looking at me," she said shifting uncomfortably in her seat.
"Sorry," he said, grinning, "it's just been a while since I've seen you."
Donna looked up at him and then looked away, "I know."
"Donna, I…," he started, trying to figure out how to put a million apologies into a single sentence. Looking at her sitting there, the words died on his lips and he simply held out his hand.
Setting down her cup, Donna took his hand and curled up next to him on the sofa, her head on his chest. Josh reached up and pulled down the afghan that was on the back of the sofa and wrapped it around them both. He rested his chin on her head and thought of how comfortable it felt to have her next to him. It was almost as if the last several weeks had never happened.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?"
Donna sighed and mumbled against his chest, "I don't know. I came home, turned on the TV and saw the pictures of the attack. All of a sudden, everything came back to me in a flash…"
Josh pulled her closer and rubbed his hands up and down her arm.
"I didn't know what to do and all I could think was that I needed to talk to you," she whispered, her grip on the front of his shirt getting tighter.
"I'm glad you did," he replied, speaking the words into her hair. "I'm here for as long as you need me."
They sat silently for a while, Donna's grip on his shirt relaxing until Josh realized she had gone to sleep. He slid down into the couch a little more, settled her weight comfortably on his chest and contemplated what had happened. Looking around the room, his gaze rested on the Inaugural Ball photograph on the shelf. He thought about the note that Donna had left in his office and all the things that had happened between the night he had said those horrible words and her phone call this evening.
Josh tightened his arms around her, kissed the top of her head and settled down to sleep.
(To be continued.)
