A Little Help From a Friend
Disclaimer: 'The West Wing' and all its characters belong to Aaron Sorkin, John Wells Productions, and Warner Bros. No copyright infringement is intended.
Spoilers: Up to the end of Season 6
Rating: PG
Summary: With a little help from CJ, Josh and Donna's relationship finally changes.
A/N: I wanted to explore how two people such as Josh and Donna, who were in denial of their feelings for so long, then oblivious to the other's devotion for just as long, would finally find their way to each other. Of course, Josh and Donna being, well, them, they needed a little help from a friend.
This has been sitting on my hard drive for a while, and I wasn't sure if I'd ever post it. It's just a whole lot of fluff, without real plot or drama. But then, I thought, maybe someone out there would like it. So here it is.
Danie
"Damn it's good to see you," CJ said over a shot of Sambuca.
Having had enough of the robust Italian wine they'd shared at dinner, Donna swallowed the last of her Cappuccino and set the empty cup on the table. "It's good to see you too. I wasn't prepared for how much I'd miss you guys when I left the White House."
"Any regrets?"
Donna was shaking her head when Eduardo, their waiter, arrived to offer refills. While CJ ordered another Sambuca, Donna wondered at the hastiness with which she'd been willing to deny any regrets. She certainly didn't regret quitting an assistant position to go work for Russell, even if he hadn't won the nomination. She'd never told anyone, felt guilty for even thinking it, but she was secretly relieved he hadn't. Bingo Bob advanced to a high-ranking position by default, and made it as far as he had in the democratic leadership race again by default. He had the instincts of a post when it came to politics, and she was certain that had it not been for Will Bailey's ability to elect a dead man to the senate, the cardboard cutout that was Bob Russell would have been even more of an embarrassment to the party.
And, to his credit, Will had quickly recognized her abilities and never stood in her way when she wanted more responsibility, trusting that she could handle it. He'd given her opportunities Josh had never willingly or easily given her, and by doing more she learned, and grew, and earned her place in the room.
No, she couldn't regret leaving the White House, but the way she quit and the subsequent rift between her and Josh...she couldn't truthfully deny regretting that.
She considered the woman who had become more of a friend than a colleague in recent years, yet never so close that they'd share their innermost thoughts with each other. How much was she prepared to confess to CJ now? They no longer worked together, and more importantly, she and Josh were no longer boss and subordinate. But would mentioning Josh now only open a Pandora's box?
Declining the offer of another coffee, Donna glanced back at CJ as their waiter left. "Working on the Russell campaign gave me opportunities I never would have had if I'd stayed at the White House," Donna said, giving CJ the easy answer. "He didn't win, and to be honest, CJ, I really think the right man won. But I remained loyal to my team and did my best to the end."
"I know you did. So what now?"
Donna shrugged. "For the next few days, sleep," she said wistfully. "Then, after that, who knows? Maybe go work for Leo if he'll have me."
CJ was silent for a moment, her eyes trained on the empty shot glass cupped in her hand. Then she looked up, her large eyes contemplative. "I take it Josh hasn't made you an offer?"
Donna felt her cheeks go warm. She couldn't quite hold CJ's gaze as the one topic that seemed unavoidable from the get-go, got going. The truth was that she didn't want to work for Josh anymore. But dreading a replay of their last discussion featuring Josh, Donna let the question go unanswered, suddenly feigning interest in Filomena's statue-strewn Italian garden.
The noise level in the famous Georgetown restaurant ruled it out for intimate dinners, but the party atmosphere had appealed to Donna tonight, so she'd readily agreed when CJ suggested it. And, until now, she'd managed to forget that the restaurant was a stone's throw from Josh's apartment.
Her eyes swept the room, not really taking in the décor, only aware of how close he might be. If he was home. He told her the last night of the Democratic convention that the Congressman and his family were looking forward to a few days back in Texas before embarking on the Presidential campaign next week. She assumed Josh would be returning to Washington for a break as well.
With a sigh, she glanced up at CJ. "CJ, let's not--"
Eduardo interrupted, lighting a match and setting fire to the shot-glass of liqueur CJ had ordered. He smiled at Donna. "Certain I cannot tempt you, bella?"
Eduardo was tempting enough, Donna thought, but she hadn't had enough to drink to give him that witty comeback, so she simply said, "No, thank you."
"Oh, come on, Donna," CJ exclaimed. "The point of tonight was to celebrate the end of a long and hard campaign and have some fun. We both took cabs, you can sleep in all day tomorrow if that's what you want...When was the last time you let your hair down?"
Without hesitation, Donna replied, "Christmas, two years ago," and then grimaced at how pathetic that sounded. "Okay, okay. Bring it on, Eduardo."
"Molto bene, Signorina" he said jovially as he strutted away giving them a nice view of his sculpted butt.
They both let out a sigh and exchanged an appreciative glance before observing a moment of silence for Eduardo's physique.
"He's not even my type," Donna remarked.
"You seem to be his."
"Hmm..." Eduardo had been a little flirtatious all evening...well, a lot flirtatious. She was used to male attention and had on occasion given in to it, but not for a very long time. And the one man whose attention mattered to her had never really returned the sentiment.
Josh had his moments of sweetness and intensity, and sometimes he looked at her in a certain way, or said something unexpectedly charming or flirtatious—not to mention the countless times he got hot under the collar because she had a date. Her heart would flutter then, and she'd wonder if he felt a little of what she felt for him; if their professional relationship was all that stood in their way. But those moments were always fleeting, swiftly replaced with condescension and his infamous obnoxious behavior, always leaving her heart in tatters and her, angry with herself for falling for him over and over again. In time, even his most endearing gestures became irritating.
Leaving had been her only option. She'd done it for her future, both professionally and personally, and tried not to look back. And, she might have succeeded had their paths not crossed every other day during the campaign.
Donna sighed again, a deep forlorn sound that captured CJ's attention.
"Care to explain that one?"
Donna smiled. "It's nothing."
CJ gave her a long look. "Listen, before you left for Gaza, I—"
"CJ, please. Let's not do this again. I won't sleep with Eduardo just because he's not Josh Lyman!"
"No, of course not. That's not—"
Eduardo came with Donna's drink just then, but as if sensing the shift in mood between the women, he quickly lit it and retreated.
"Grazie," Donna called after him, and he half turned and smiled.
"The pleasure is mine, Signorina."
CJ let out a long breath. "Look, Donna, I've been meaning to apologize to you for the things I said before you left for Gaza. It's long overdue. I jumped to conclusions without all the facts—"
"Your conclusions were correct, CJ. The truth is often hard to hear, but I followed your advice in Gaza." Donna blew on the fire in her glass and lifted it in a toast before taking a sip. She licked her lips and set the glass down on the table. "I had a fling with a nice photo-journalist. Colin. You'd have been proud of me." She chuckled. "Josh called him Heathcliff." At CJ's crestfallen look, Donna leaned forward and said, "What?"
CJ gave her head a quick shake. "I'm having a guilty moment. Please tell me you didn't take up with this villain with redeeming qualities because of what I said."
"No..." Donna frowned. "Maybe. I don't know. But it was good advice, CJ. Colin made me feel...good. He didn't undermine my position on the Codel. I wasn't someone's assistant with him, but a representative of the US Government. My opinions mattered. And he showed me Gaza. The real Gaza, not the stuff we were getting in organized tours. He was no villain."
"Maybe not to you, but to Josh—"
Donna shook her head. "Josh always gives my boyfriends monikers. I think it makes him feel superior."
CJ's face gentled. So did her voice. "He cares about you."
"Yeah, when his self-interests are involved," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Josh worried about me not being at his beck and call."
Sitting back, CJ considered her for a charged moment. "You really don't know, do you?"
"Know what?"
"Joshua Lyman is in love with you."
A reluctant gasp escaped Donna's lips and she quickly shook her head in denial. "No. You're wrong, CJ. He's...he's—" She made a sound that was half chuckle, half sob as an uncomfortable flow of heat rushed from her abdomen to her face. She'd been down this path before. She'd let herself believe Josh might have feelings for her only to be disappointed over and over again. "No," she said emphatically.
CJ gave her a pitiful look. "Okay--" she began, and then her phone rang. Reaching in her clutch bag, she muttered, "Excuse me," then looked at Donna strangely when she examined the display. A smile broke across her face as she spoke into the mouthpiece. "Mi amor!"
Donna's heart skipped. "Josh?" she mouthed.
CJ nodded and chuckled into the phone. "It's just not the same without you."
Donna forced herself to pay attention to CJ's end of the conversation, tried not to think about what she'd said. Josh in love with her! She didn't even want to entertain that idea.
"I have," CJ said as her eyes settled on Donna. "In fact she's right..." Donna shook her head wildly, but of course, it was already too late. "...here. We're having dinner at Filomena's. Feel up to joining us?"
A brief silence ensued; Donna covered her face with her hands.
"Just as well, my friend," she heard CJ say. "It's girls' night out and you know how wild those can get. Donna's already turned our waiter's head, and let me tell you, he has blue eyes to die for and a body worthy of genuflexion."
Donna watched CJ through the cracks of her fingers, noting that her friend seemed to be enjoying herself far too much. Then,
her strong voice broke into a chuckle.
"Josh? Josh? Still there?" She pulled the phone from her ear and frowned at it. Then, with a shrug, she closed the flip and returned it to her purse.
Donna's hands fell from her face. "He hung up on you?"
CJ glanced at her watch. "How long do you think it will take him to get here?"
"That's it. I'm leaving."
Reaching out, CJ grabbed her forearm. "No, Donna. You're not."
"CJ—"
"Oh, for the love of... I've had it with you two." She let go of her arm, but the weight of her glare kept Donna firmly in her seat. "For years we've watched you and Josh pretend you weren't crazy about each other while you both tried to have relationships with every Mr. and Ms. Wrong you could find. It was part of the entertainment at the White House, and I'll admit that I dreaded the day you'd pull your collective heads out of your collective asses and work out whatever it was that kept you apart. But you're not at the White House anymore. He's not your boss anymore. And...Damn it, Donna. Are you blind?"
"CJ! Keep your voice down," she said in a fierce whisper, but a surreptitious glance around the restaurant told her no one was paying attention.
"Look, Donna, I didn't mean to—" CJ took a breath and lowered her voice. "I care about you and I care about Josh—even if I want to strangle him from time to time. And maybe you have good reasons to doubt me. God knows Josh can go stealth when it comes to you, but you're stealthier than he is. But, Donna, you weren't there when we got news of the attack in Gaza. You weren't the one holding him up when we thought you were dead. You didn't get to witness him lose it in the outer office of the oval. Leo knew. We all knew."
"Josh is notorious for losing it—" Donna shot back, then hiccupped, fighting to keep tears at bay. She'd cried almost all the way to New Hampshire when she left Josh for Russell's campaign, but then she'd picked up her socks and put on a brave face, making herself live one day at a time until she could work that man out of her heart. She never had. And now, hearing CJ's version of events, remembering waking up in Germany and finding Josh there in a wrinkled suit and in need of a shave, his eyes full of fear and relief and...Oh my God! Her heart lurched painfully and as CJ touched her hand, a tear finally trickled down her cheek.
"Eduardo!" CJ called. "Two more please, amico."
"He never said anything, CJ." Donna swallowed past the lump in her throat. "All these years..." She swiped her hand across her cheek. "I suspected at times, and then I thought it was my imagination...that I was seeing what I wanted to see—" Feeling like a child, not a woman, not the woman she had become this past year, Donna asked, "What do I do?"
CJ released her hand and a long breath. It sounded like relief. Eduardo showed up with two flaming shots of Sambuca, having lit the drinks on his way to their table. "Gracias, mi amor," CJ said as he carefully placed the glasses in front of them.
"That's Spanish, Signora."
"Of course, forgive me."
"De nada," he quipped. With a long, flirtatious look directed at Donna, Eduardo ambled away.
"Typical Italian," CJ remarked. "He's into blondes." She extinguished the flame with a long breath and lifted her glass to Donna's. Donna slowly did the same.
CJ threw the warm liquid to the back of her throat while Donna wisely sipped at hers.
Josh paced. He paced, and he jumped, and he jabbed the air with his fists in a pantomime of a boxer in a ring. Oxygen and energy were what he needed. A lot of it to clear his head and stop him from doing something utterly stupid such as showing up at Filomena's. How could he after telling CJ he didn't want to intrude on her evening with Donna? But that was before he knew about Tony Danza putting the moves on her.
"Blue eyes and a body worthy of genuflexion, my ass," he muttered as he punched the back of an overstuffed armchair, displacing the dust that had accumulated over months of campaigning.
It made him sneeze.
Sinking back into the cushions of his couch, he took stock of his pathetic existence. His pathetic body. His aging body. Nothing to attract someone young and beautiful like Donna. She was into tall men with heads of thick hair, and muscular bodies, and blue eyes.
Who am I kidding?
He frowned. "Who am I kidding?" he whispered slowly. Donna had never dated anyone who fit that description. She dated guys who looked like him. Ordinary. They were even shorter than he was. None of them had fabulous hair or jock bodies, or blue eyes...no blue eyes that he could remember anyway. And none of them was as smart as he was. He knew that for sure.
So what did these guys have that he didn't? "Republicans," he said aloud. Was it a case of 'opposites attract'? He could adopt Republican views if--
No. I can't.
He let out a long breath and let his head fall to the back of the couch, but only enjoyed a short moment of inactivity before his phone rang.
"Lyman," he barked into the phone.
"Oh, mi amor. You sound distraught."
"Claudia Jean! Again so soon. I'm not distraught. I'm fabulous. I'm home for two whole days. I'm sipping beer and watching an old Western on TV," he lied.
"What movie?"
"It's uh..." He reached for the remote control and turned on the television, flipping furiously for the Westerns movie channel and finally finding it and a movie he remembered seeing. "My Name Is Nobody," he said as he stared into the piercing, unusual blue eyes of the Italian actor, Terence Hill. He sneered at the image on the screen. "CJ...Don't you think it's strange for an Italian to have blue eyes?"
"You're a sad, sad man, Joshua Lyman."
"No. Terrence Hill, in the movie. He's Italian and he has these strange blue eyes."
"You are a sad, sad, man."
"What're you talking about? I'm happy. I'm a happy, happy man."
"Uh-huh. I'd better go. Eduardo is trying to get to second base—"
"Fuck you, CJ."
"The language, mi amor. Not very attractive."
"Goes with the rest of me." In the silence that ensued, Josh wondered if CJ had forgotten to disconnect the call. He could hear background chatter and strained to hear Donna's voice. "CJ?"
"I really want to whip your ass, Lyman."
He forced a chuckle for CJ's benefit. "Are you coming on to me?"
"Yeah, like that wouldn't be a waste of time. Listen to me, idiot boy, if you don't show up here in the next ten minutes, Donna's never going to believe you're in love with her."
"What?" he squeaked. "Why would she think that?"
"I may have told her."
Heart pounding, he made himself ask, "Please tell me you're really, really drunk right now."
"I'm not drunk," she returned indignantly. "But you can relax. I don't think she believed me anyway."
Hesitantly, he asked, "What did she say?"
"Oh, God. Why do I feel like I'm back in high school passing a note to Hoss Simpleton to tell him Judy Cartwright likes him? What do you think she said?"
"Hoss Simpleton and Judy Cartwright? Don't you get the irony of that?"
"Josh—"
"Why would anyone want to date a Hoss Simpleton anyway?"
"Lyman!"
When CJ used that tone with him, he felt like a teenage Hoss Simpleton himself. So he sighed and said, "Yeah?"
"I'm in a very crowded lady's room getting strange looks. I'm doing you a favor in case you missed that part, so work with me, will you?"
"I really don't know what you expect me to do."
"I told Donna that if you showed up here in the next twenty minutes after I told you about Adonis coming on to her, she'd know for sure."
"Adonis is Greek."
"Oh, for the love of God."
"You're starting to sound like Leo, you know. Is it a Chief of Staff thing?"
"That's it," she snapped. "I'm done."
"Wait! When you told her that...you know?...that I'm in love with her, was she totally repulsed or—"
CJ abruptly interrupted. "You are kidding me, right? Please tell me you're kidding."
"No. I mean--CJ, what are you getting at?"
"Are you both stupid?" Her voice rose to a dangerous level. He put an inch between the phone and his ear, then brought it back slowly when he heard her say, "Is it possible that you and Donna are the only two people in Washington who don't know you're crazy about each other?"
His heart lurched as hope flared through it for the first time in a very long time. Tentatively, he said, "CJ, are you saying Donna feels..."
"Get your ass over here, Lyman. Now!"
"I'm on my way," he responded, but she'd already hung up.
Where Donna was concerned, Josh had held two convictions: one, he was in love with her, and two she would never feel that way about him.
The first had happened gradually, but he was beyond fooling himself that it hadn't germinated the day she walked into his office and answered his phone, declaring that she could be valuable to him, and dismissing every one of his objections with artless logic. The second happened abruptly; the day he learned about her affair with Cliff Calley. He couldn't remember ever being that angry with her. He pretended it was about her lying to Congress and the potentially disastrous consequences for the administration, but at the root of his anger was the uncomfortable ache he felt whenever she looked at another man. Thing was, she always looked at other men and he needed to stop fooling himself that he would ever be one of them. When Amy came along—a woman who was so wrong for him he now thought of their brief affair as an act of rebellion—he pounced, and tried never to look back, convincing himself that Amy would help purge Donna from his system.
It hadn't worked.
But CJ had just planted a seed and he wondered if he'd been wrong about Donna all these years? Was it possible that she'd also harbored feelings for him?
A first ray of hope made him run, not walk, towards Filomena's.
Four blocks. Four measly blocks. But it had been a long time since he'd run any distance and he was panting by the time he reached the restaurant. He took off the jacket he'd grabbed on his way out and scrubbed a hand down his face, erasing trickles of sweat from his forehead.
The Maître D' looked at him curiously and asked if he had a reservation.
"I'm meeting someone," he replied absently as his eyes scanned the room, looking for her. And then he saw her sitting across from CJ in a booth at the back of the room. She was smiling and for a moment he just stared as his gut twisted with nervous tension. Why would someone this young and beautiful, this perfect, want anything to do with him?
Slowly he made his way across the room, his eyes never leaving Donna. A woman pushed her chair back from her table and he bumped into it. "Sorry," he muttered, and when he looked up, Donna was staring at him.
His breath hitched.
He forced himself to move. One leg at a time, then suddenly, CJ looked back, slid out of the booth, and met him, throwing her arms around his neck.
"Mi Amor! How nice of you to join us," she exclaimed in utter surprise.
She was drunkJosh realized as he put his hands on her waist. Pushing her back from him, he stared at her and grinned. "You're sloshed, Claudia Jean."
"Nooo, no, no, no, Joshua. I'm happy. I'm a happy, happy woman."
"You're a happy, happy drunk." His gaze slid to Donna who was watching them closely. "Hi," he said softly and she smiled.
"Hi."
Belatedly, he took his eyes off Donna and looked at CJ, feeling a pang of uneasiness when he noticed the wicked twinkle in her eyes. She disentangled herself from him, rocking on her feet as she reached down for her bag. Josh put a steadying arm around her waist, but she brushed it off as she straightened again.
"One of us has to work tomorrow. Buonas noches, mis amigos," she chanted, breezing past him and walking away in a surprisingly straight line.
He turned to Donna and quietly slid into the booth across from her. That was when a very tall, shirt-too-tight-for-his-muscles-Tony-Danza showed up.
He really did have blue eyes.
And dimples!
"The Signora has departed, I see," Tony said in a suave Italian accent Josh immediately recognized as fake. Do women really fall for that? Josh eyed Donna suspiciously and found her looking not at the waiter, but at him, so he stopped glaring and grinned at Tony instead.
"I'll have one of those cool-sounding Italian beers."
"A Moretti, Sir?"
"Yeah, that one," he said, noting that Italian boy had suddenly dropped the accent. When he left them, Josh looked at Donna. "You fall for this act?"
"What act?"
"The Signora has departed, I see," he mimicked.
"Josh," Donna said in an exasperated tone, but she was smiling, and that was something.
He shrugged. "You'd think they'd hire the real thing."
"Maybe the real thing wouldn't look like him. How many Italian men do you know with blue eyes other than Terrence Hill?"
For a moment, he just stared at her, stunned. "Did CJ put you up to this?"
Her brow crinkled. "Put me up to what?"
She looked genuinely confused and it was enough to convince him that CJ had been playing him. Deciding that was entirely preferable to her spilling the beans about his feelings for Donna, he felt the tension leave his body.
"Never mind," he said. Good one, Claudia Jean, he thought.
DONNA looked for a sign. CJ seemed convinced that Josh was in love with her. But if he was, why hadn't he ever said anything? He looked wonderful, she thought, momentarily distracted. She hadn't seen him since the convention. His hair was in disarray, she noticed. His shirt wrinkled, and his face flushed. He seemed to be breathing heavily, like someone who'd just run, and she wondered if he had.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Fine, why?"
"You seem...out of breath."
"Nah. I'm fine.
"Okay." She smiled.
He shifted in his seat and drew his gaze from her. "Tony's taking his time," he muttered.
"Tony?"
"Tony Danza, Italian guy."
Donna chuckled. "His name is Antonio, Josh. He doesn't look anything like Tony Danza."
"You don't think?"
"I don't think."
"All that muscle and perfect hair?"
"He's taller," Donna said.
Antonio came back with Josh's beer and another flaming Sambuca for Donna.
"I didn't order this," Donna remarked.
"Your friend did as she paid the bill." He lavishly bowed.
"Oh. Thank you."
When he left, Josh was staring at her through narrowed eyes.
"What?"
"He's flirting with you."
"Many men flirt with me, Josh."
"Yeah... but an Italian impostor!" He sneered, much to Donna's amusement.
He was jealous. Josh was jealous and for some reason that gave her a little thrill. Not that she'd let on, of course. "Did you come here to hassle me about guys, Josh?" she asked sternly, "Because if you did—"
"I'm just looking out for you. You know what they say about Italian men."
"I thought we agreed that Antonio isn't Italian. But feel free to humor me. What do they say about Italian men?"
He tipped the beer bottle to his lips and sipped, his eyes never leaving hers. Returning the beer to the table, he gave her the Lyman smirk.
"This woman was on a flight to Italy. They were flying through a storm and there was a lot of turbulence, and then lightning struck one of the wings. She started panicking, thinking they were all going to die. And she figured if she was going to die that she wanted her last minutes on earth to be memorable. So she jumped up from her seat and asked if there was anyone on the plane who could make her feel like a woman one last time.
"Everybody stared at her and watched as this muscle-rippling Italian guy stood up at the rear of the plane and started making his way up the aisle, unbuttoning his shirt, one button at a time. The woman just stood there, riveted. When he reached her, he handed her his shirt and said, "Iron this and get me something to eat."
Despite herself, Donna chuckled. "Funny."
"Yeah."
"It sounds like something you'd say."
The smirk died on his lips. "Yeah," he whispered, tipping the beer to his lips again, only this time he couldn't quite hold her gaze. "It's a dumb joke."
Donna watched him as his eyes roamed the room, looking everywhere but at her it seemed, until the silence became uncomfortable. She wanted to know what he was thinking, feeling... She wanted to know if what CJ had told her was true, but it wasn't as though she could just come out and ask. She sighed inwardly--then caught her breath as a germ of an idea sprouted.
"Josh?"
His head snapped back and for a moment she glimpsed something in his eyes that spurred her on. "Huh?"
"Remember when you helped me out with Jack Reese?"
He frowned. "Why are you talking about that now?"
"Just hear me out. I know it was...well...it was a juvenile thing to ask you to do, but it worked."
"Yeah." He didn't sound too pleased with himself and Donna bit back a smile.
"I need another favor."
"You want me to set you up with someone else?" he asked incredulously.
"Yeah. No. I just want to know if this guy likes me. I really like him, Josh. In fact, I more than like him, and you know how bad I am at this. If you could—"
"No."
With mock indignation, she said, "How many times have I helped you out over the years? With Joey. With Amy."
"First of all, Joey was your idea, not mine. I never dated her. And how did you help me with Amy?"
"I gave you sound advice on how to get her back every time you made her mad. I told her stuff about you so she'd understand you better and make you happy."
"And you're the expert on what makes me happy!" he snapped. Shaking his head, he withdrew his wallet from his back pocket and dropped some bills on the table. "Get your own dates, Donna. Keep me out of it."
Oh man! This was not going the way she'd hoped. She reached across the table and put her hand on his arm. "Josh—"
He jerked his arm away. "Are you ready to go, or are you waiting around for Tony?"
"It's not Tony...Antonio," she corrected.
"I didn't think it was since you'd have to be blind not to know he's into you."
Grabbing his jacket, he slid out of the booth, glancing back at her to bid her goodnight, but the words died in his throat. She looked stricken.
"Don't you even want to know who he is?"
"No."
Her brow crinkled, part disappointment, part surprise. "You always want to know, Josh."
"Not this time. Goodnight Donna."
Brooding darkly, Josh left the restaurant. The rain had started, cooling the air and relieving it of the suffocating heaviness of earlier. Swearing under his breath, he zipped the jacket up to his throat and flipped the collar up. The sidewalk was almost deserted, only a few stragglers rushing places, luckily with umbrellas.
Josh braved the rain. His head hung low, he started for home, guilt at leaving her alone warring with his need to be away from her. How could she be this cruel? He wasn't stupid enough to think she was perfect, but he never would have pegged her for someone who could be deliberately cruel. How could she, knowing how he felt about her? CJ told her. If CJ had told her, and he wasn't sure of that or anything at the moment, but even if she hadn't, Donna had to know how he felt about her. So how could she?
He was mad. Mad as hell. But it wasn't what was driving him down the street in the open rain, defiant, pulling at his jacket, cold. He could hear his heart pounding. He could feel it breaking. All of his dreams and hopes, crushed. Suddenly shattered. Eight years, he told himself. Eight fucking years loving her.
"He works for Santos."
He heard her voice from far away, an echo in the now pouring rain. He whirled.
She was standing at the door of the restaurant, the cold rain pelting down on her, trickling down her face and her arms. She wasn't wearing a coat. Why wasn't she wearing a coat?
He rushed back, removing his jacket to wrap it around her. He couldn't tell if she was crying or if it was the rain on her cheeks, but her eyes were wet and sad as they looked up at him and it tore at his heart.
"CJ said he's in love with me."
"Then why—" He stopped himself as piece by wonderful piece it all began making sense. He felt the beginning of a smile tugging at his lips.
She pouted. "See. I told you I suck at this."
Josh grinned. "Yeah." He turned the collar up around her neck to her ears and kept his hands there, his thumbs pressed gently against her cheeks. "So this guy, you really like him?"
"Yes."
"And you want me to run interference for you?"
"Yeah."
He looked up at the rain. "I work better when I'm dry."
Donna smiled. "Then let's get you dry."
They ran the three blocks to his place. Josh never let go of her hand until they were in his apartment. They were both drenched and cold, but he didn't seem to care.
She didn't care.
He closed the door behind them and stood no more than a foot away, facing her, a strange play of emotions crossing his face. But it was uncertainty she heard in his voice when he said, "So, what do you want me to do for you, Donnatella?"
"Kiss me."
He smiled with just a hint of satisfaction, then his expression turned serious and she was in his arms. His lips, wet with rain, met hers without hesitation. Their lips parted, their breaths mingled, and she felt the first brush of his tongue against hers.
His arms closed snugly around her, infusing her limbs with heat as her fingers tangled into his wet hair. His body fitted to hers with heart-pounding perfection. Passion gripped them both and they moaned as one. Then he withdrew his lips from hers and slowly kissed his way up her cheek to her ear.
"What do you want me to say to this guy?" he whispered.
Breathlessly, she said, "Tell him...tell him that I love him too."
THE END