Monday:
I always thought we'd get together on a Monday. Josh always has his biggest victories on Mondays. Mondays follow the two days that we have been down at the office strong-arming congressmen or calling in favors to ensure that we get our way. This may sound a little like working, but really it is a time for Josh and I to just hang out, be together, and get a little bit of our jobs done outside of watchful eyes and regular office scrutiny. We are nonchalant and causal on the weekends, composing theories on things that the government definitely would not want to fund, or practicing giving old Bartlet speeches with a few twists, things we know he wished he could have said. I really learn a lot from Josh on the weekends, and I think he learns a lot from me. But Mondays? On Mondays we get back to the grind, all business and professionalism (as much as Josh can manage I guess). We go through the day watching our weekend triumphs come to light to the general public as votes are passed or bills amended that had been held up in committee for months. Josh usually has excellent Mondays. And, it is after these excellent Mondays that Josh invites everyone out to the bar- his treat.
The bar on Monday night would fill with Whitehouse staffers eager to celebrate whatever victory Josh has deemed celebratory in hopes of possibly getting a moments worth of conversation with him, or Toby, or C.J. etc. And it wouldn't hurt to have a free drink thrown in there on Josh's tab either. He, of course, would outlast these "youngsters" who, unlike Josh, did not have the luxury of showing up to the Whitehouse the next morning a little late and with a pounding headache. So after the senior staff and I close down the bar, Josh would insist that he walk me home. C.J. would cast a knowing glance our way and Toby would push her into sharing his cab and off we would go our separate ways. Josh would eventually place his arm around me and lean into my body with his own. He wasn't really drunk but he would get even more touchy feely then usual. We would make it to my doorstep and I would tell him he could go home now but he wouldn't. He would stop walking right in front of the six stairs of my apartments stoup, he would place his hands in his pockets and he would just sway from the torso up movinghis shoulders back and forth, back and forth. He would stop, sort of grin upat me, his dimples showing but not in full force and he would say gruffly: "I don't have to go home." He would kind of shrug at this point and again begin swaying, ever so slightly, back and forth, back and forth.
"No, no you don't" I would deliver this line with a half grin to match his own and I would push the front door of my building open and slowly begin to move inside.
"I could, for example go somewhere else, somewhere other than my home." Josh would say sort of mockingly as he grasped the handrails on either side of the steps and bounded up two at a time.
I would still be standing with my back to him half in and half out of the door. "Yeah, I suppose you could do that." I would respond sort of flippantly as if my heart wasn't racing 100 miles an hour, as if I didn't hear the hunger in his voice.
"Yeah, I could go somewhere else and have a few more drinks, maybe some breakfast…" by now Josh has reached the top of the steps and is standing directly behind me. As he begins to speak again he steps even closer to me until his cheek is next to my ear and his chin is resting above my left shoulder. "I could do that or I could just stay here." His voice is just above a whisper and I can feel the heat radiating from his body behind me, he steps even closer until my back is pressed firmly into him and I can tell he is anticipating a dramatic change in our relationship.
"Yeah, you definitely can." I respond by laying my head back and looking athim over my left shoulder. This motion leaves much of my neck exposed and Josh goes to work on nibbling and kissing it in a way that is both forceful and gentle.
We barely make it up the steps to my apartment before he is ripping away at my blouse, untucking it, pulling at the buttons. He halfway finishes mine before he begins on his own white oxford shirt, tearing at the buttons in manner that I am pleased he did not use on my own peach silk purchase. And I may have neglected to mention that we have been clawing at one another since we left the stoup but now for a moment we stop, and breathing heavy we assess the "damage".
So there we are standing in my living room with both shirts halfway undone and a make out session that can only be described as fast and furious when Josh says it: "Donna" gulp of air "I am in love with you, and this isn't just about tonight and it isn't just about this past weekend but it is about all of the past weekends that we have spent together and all of the future nights that I want to spend with you." He finishesans is still panting pretty hard. His statement seemed to surprise even himself, and he looks at me sheepishly but nevertheless with a desire that cannot be disguised.
"Okay." I respond smiling in a way that I hope indicates to him the amount of love that Ifeel for him. I nod and placing my hands on his shoulders I look him directly in the eye. He grins with the most warmth I think I've ever seen him display and seconds later he is swooping me off my feet and heading in the direction of my bedroom.
My final memory would be of us laughing and kissing ever so gently in the very late hours of a Monday night. As I drift off to sleep Josh would hold me close and whisper into my hair and my neck that he loved me and wanted to be with me forever.
Come Tuesday morning, however, I would always wake up alone.
