OK, first fanfic ever written...here goes:)
Note: I do not own any of these characters or any part of The West Wing whatsoever…
In a New York minute, everything can change.
Sam sat at the bar drowning his sorrows in stale beer as his friends tried to cheer him up. To his right CJ and Toby were deep in a drunken debate about who was a more active protestor back in the day. "Look, Tobus, I burned my bra with the best of them", "Not like you were old enough to actually wear one though." Sam bit back laughter and took another sip as CJ hit Toby upside the head.
"Hey. hey mister, that was your last bottle, I'm cutting you off, you have a-" "For the love of God Donna, I do not have a sensitive system, and I will have as many drinks as I want, and you should be nice to me, that banana hurt." Josh pouted as Donna laughed and swiped his beer, replacing it with her club soda. "Donnaaa…," he whined. She turned to Sam as she took a sip of the pilfered beer, and grinned.
"Sam my man, are you in better spirits?" She draped her arm around him and leaned in close to whisper in his ear, "You look like death warmed over, you know," He shivered under her warm breath and blue eyes. "Donna!" She rolled her eyes and smiled at Sam, "Must you bellow so Joshua? I am right here," she said turning away. Sam ducked his head into his beer again, but couldn't help watching Donna banter with an intoxicated Josh. And he couldn't help thinking about being in her arms.
In his office she had wordlessly embraced him, and embraced all his baggage at the same time. He had wanted to save her the grief and pain he was feeling but being Donna, she had selflessly held him up when all he wanted to do was crumble. As he leaned into her hair and closed his eyes, she had whispered about nothing being sure about life, not even longitude and latitude, and he couldn't help but wonder if the thing that surrounded Josh and Donna was less sure these days. What if those feelings around which they skated so carefully were less sure than anyone thought. More and more he wanted a chance to find out.
"So Donna, how was your date last weekend with that guy from the council's office?" CJ asked. He looked up out of his reverie to notice Donna looking uncomfortable under CJ's gaze while Josh drunkenly slurred, "Ssslhe didn't go out with that gomer; I wouldn't let her…Ssshe has pathhhetic taste in mmen." Sam paused. He had always known Josh sabotaged her dates, but never heard him say anything so malicious or hurtful, clearly neither had Donna. She brought her hand away from her mouth to say icily, "You wouldn't let me? You said there was an emergency, and now you're telling me that the only reason I spent an extra four hours in the office on a Friday night, was because you decided I couldn't have a social life!" Her voice had climbed steadily and she stood either ready to lunge at him or run out the door.
CJ and Toby excused themselves, while Sam moved to place a hand on Donna's arm. Josh tried to stand and backtrack his statement but only succeeded in almost falling down. Donna sighed tiredly, her anger fizzling into exhaustion, and rubbed her temple. "Donna, don't worry about it, he doesn't even know what he's saying, he'll be sorry in the morning…" Sam found himself halfheartedly defending his friend. "Yes, he did--mean it. He did and he always does and he's always sorry too. It just makes me upset, you know." Donna turned back to resignedly help a very inebriated and stubborn Josh into his coat, "I am fine Donna, I am not ready to go home yet, I just want a few more drinks, stop hovering…" Donna couldn't help but chastise Josh, growing annoyed, "Joshua, it is time to go home, now. You are getting in a cab and I will take you home, because that is just how nice I am." "Don't do me any favors Donnatella, I can take care of myself you know. I am not part of your pathetic revolving door of gomers." Donna let go of him abruptly, clearly hurt and Sam was left to keep Josh from falling on his ass, when all he wanted to do was drop him on it. Sam tried to catch her eye as he said, "Why don't you grab us a cab Donna, while I finish getting this idiot to the door." She looked up with watery eyes, threw him half a smile and walked out into the cold night.
The three of them piled into a cab and Josh passed out against the door, leaving Sam and Donna in silence. Clearly still upset Donna sat still, gazing out the window at the lights of the district. Without looking at her, Sam slipped one of his gloved hands into hers and squeezed. In the glass he could see her reflection smile and turn towards him. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, the cab stopped and announced their arrival. Sam and Donna lugged Josh up the stairs and into his bed.
Sam watched her tender actions from the bedroom door as she gently pulled off his shoes and tucked the blankets around Josh like he had watched her do a million times before. But this time, there was something just sad about the whole situation, motions that once had been undertaken with care were performed out of habit, and something in her eyes made this just another chore of being Joshua Lyman's keeper. As she walked back towards him, he wondered at her grace, at her patience and couldn't stop himself from stopping her with a gentle hand on her shoulder, "How are you so good?" he whispered. She lifted her head to look him in the eye as the breath caught in her throat. He leaned closer to her parted lips and placed the most delicate and gentle kiss on them. Her body tensed up and she pulled away, looking at him as if he was crazy. "I'm sorry Donnatella," Josh mumbled from the bed, turning her head, and relieving her from Sam's intense gaze. She sighed and moved past Sam to the stairs, "Come on, the cab is still waiting."
Moving through the streets once more, an awkward silence settled, and he desperately tried to think of how to apologize, to say how wrong he was, to try to explain how crazy he had been these past weeks when she interrupted his thoughts by kissing him hard on the mouth. He kissed her eagerly, tangled his hands in her hair and drove his tongue into her mouth. He wanted to kiss away all her bad moments tonight, all the frustration. Wanted to give her some of the idealism she had brought back to him, help her from being so lost. She moaned against his lips as her hands grabbed the lapels of his coat, trying to get as close to him as possible. They stopped at his apartment and he held his face in his hands, "Stay with me." In that minute everything was suspended, and then she nodded and stepped out of the cab.
His hands shook as they tried to unlock the door. She gently took the key from him and let them inside with a small smile. In record time he had her up against the door kissing the underside of her jaw and loving the little whimpers she was making. She pulled them down the hall, somehow divesting them of both their coats and shirts on the way to the bedroom. He couldn't get enough of her flesh, frantically running his hands over her back, her neck, and across her breasts. It was like a dream, this was Donna, he was touching Donna. She groaned and arched into his touch as he ran his thumb over her nipple. Her knees hit the edge of the bed and she tugged on his belt to bring him on top of her. Kissing her hard he peeled off her pants and drew her close to him.
He looked into her eyes, "Do we need anything… a-are you sure you want to do this because if you want to back out now…" "Sam," she cut him off, and he realized that she only had to say his name and he knew to continue. She shuddered as he entered her, wrapping herself hot and tight around him, locking her ankles around his hips. He saw the pain in her wild blue eyes, knew that this was ultimately wrong for her, could see the disaster they were wrapped up in, but then she closed them and begged him to move.
He started slowly but as the emotions from the week, from the night caught up with him he pounded into her, spurred on by her cries of "More Sam, harder, please, don't stop…" She felt him moving deep within her, and she was desperately caught up in it. She was bound to him as he gave himself over to the bitterness of betrayal, the betrayal of the past, of spies and nations, of parents and their union, betrayal that cloaked his childhood. She came, clutching his back, "Sam!" tearing from her lips, betraying her true love, their best friend who was too blind to see her. He released into her, giving her his soul, and giving into betrayal that was to come, the betrayal none of them expected between a leader and his country. And then it was over.
They lay tangled, hot, and sweaty with her head on his heart and he knew everything had changed. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on holding her in his arms, in his bed, and not about loving her, and not about tomorrow. His breathing evened out and before he gave himself to sleep he felt her whisper against his skin, "I'm not that good" and his heart broke.
