A/N: And here I go making another one of my author's notes. Feel free to
ignore this if you wish. It really has no point here. Except I would just
like to say one thing about President Bartlet's chapter. I didn't write out
any additional information about that scene because Aaron Sorkin really
didn't leave much room. There will be more scenes that we didn't see in
ITSOTG, but for now, we're going to have to be left with that. But he will
have more scenes in which he says original information! I just thought that
you might like an explanation for that. And I also just created an excuse.
;)
Anyway. Here's the next chapter. Oh, and I also wrote to my representative, and he sent me a free copy of the Constitution (or probably someone at his office did!)! I know, I'm an absolute loser. But it has been fun looking up the articles in the Constitution when they mention them on the West Wing.
Disclaimer: Does the actual West Wing own any parts of the show? They probably own more than I do.
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Donna Moss's POV
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---"Donna!" The shout was sudden and unexpected. And it made my hands crash down on the computer in sudden shock. A random mass of letters and punctuation appeared in the report that I was typing for Josh. "Donna!" Speak of the devil. Literally.
I wearily got up from my desk and walked to the door of his office. I leaned against the doorway and watched him. He looked up from his desk and saw me. "Donna, tell me something," he said, opening a thin blue folder. "I have a meeting regarding the national debt in thirty minutes. Right now I am supposed to be reading a report on the national debt. The problem is that I don't have a report on the national debt!" he suddenly yelled.
"Joshua, you shouldn't yell," I remarked calmly. This stopped him right in his tracks. "Now if you'll settle down and talk like a calm and rational person, I will go and get your report." I walked out of his office to go and get the stupid report. This is how you have to handle people like Josh. You have to handle them firmly and with a healthy dose of good-temper and humor. I opened the file cabinet and flicked through a few folders until I found the report on the national debt. "See?" I muttered to myself. "All you have to do is look around a bit, and then you find it." Josh is too tightly wound. He'll die of a heart attack before he reaches forty. I walked back to Josh's office and slapped the report down on his desk. "There's your report," I said cheerily.
"Thanks," he mumbled, picking it up and immersing himself in the report.
"Do you need anything else?
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Do you want me to get you a cookie?"
"No."
"Do you want me to get out."
"Yes."
I closed the door behind me and walked out to my desk. I stared at the softly glowing computer screen for a few seconds. The random letters were still there. I sighed and deleted the entire line and started over. Within thirty seconds I was completely absorbed in my work. All the regular noises of the bullpen faded away. There was just me, the computer's whirr and the quiet clacking of ten-fingered typing. It was a very peaceful situation for a while. For a while.
"Donna!" I slammed my head onto the desk. I was so close to getting this done. So close! "Donna!" I brought my head up to glare at anyone who might be watching me. It was right then that I noticed something extraordinary. The bullpen was empty. It wasn't empty like it was 5:15 on a Friday evening with a few people running around trying to tie things up. It was empty like it was 1:30 on Saturday morning. There was no one in the bullpen. I was completely alone. Not only was I alone in the bullpen, but there was no one in the halls. There was no one in the Communications bullpen, or in the press room, or in the Oval Office. I was totally alone in the West Wing, if not the White House.
"Donnatella Moss!" Well, not totally alone. I stood up and took a small step towards Josh's office. I was slightly freaked out. I'd always wished for total and absolute quiet, but I'd never really thought about it. The chaos and insanity of the bullpen had been replaced by a tomb-like silence. And it was pretty scary.
I looked at Josh's polished wooden door, and that was when I got really scared. His door seemed to rush at me and everything else pulled away. It left me shaken and not knowing where I was. By now I was absolutely terrified. I took two tiny steps forward but the door didn't seem to be getting any closer.
Josh called out again. "Donna!" But this yell lacked the usual annoyance and command. Instead of those two emotions, this yell had a degree of urgency, fear, and pleading in it. "Donna!"
"I'm coming!" I tried to call, but it came out as a whisper. "Josh!"
"Donna!" ---
"Donna?" Someone was shaking my shoulder. "Donna!" I started awake and sat straight up. My face had been buried in the pillows on the couch in my apartment that I shared with my roommate Patricia. And speaking of Patty, she was the one that had woken me up. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," I said, sweeping a few errant strands of hair out of my eyes. "Yeah, I just had a dream. Are you going out?" I asked, watching her snap on a bracelet.
"I'm going out with Drew tonight and I shouldn't be back until late," she said, throwing on a light windbreaker. "I just stopped here for a few things before I go. Listen, are you going to be okay here?"
"Yeah, Josh let me go early tonight," I said, curling my legs up on the couch. "You and Drew go and have a good time. I'll be fine here by myself. I've got some hot chocolate, I'll be fine," I said, giving her my brightest and cheeriest Donna smile.
She walked to the door and then turned back. "Oh Donna?" she called out in a singsong voice. "You were calling out a name in your sleep. You kept calling out Josh. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but when you start dreaming about a guy, that's when it becomes serious."
She grinned like the Cheshire Cat and swept out of the door. "Patricia!" I wailed. And I was left alone in the apartment, incredibly confused. Let's just say that the dream upset me just a little bit. I got up, changed into a pair of sweats, and took off my makeup. I got my hot chocolate and sat down to have myself a serious think.
Josh and I didn't have a relationship. Well, we actually did, but not a romantic one. He was my boss, and I was his assistant (or the Deputy Deputy Chief of Staff, depending on how you looked at it). I am deeply attached to Josh, but it's not really more attached than I am to anyone else on the staff. I guess that Josh and I are like Margaret and Leo. You can't imagine one without the other. The just fit. Like puzzle pieces.
I finished the hot chocolate and glanced at the VCR clock. It was 10:23. I'd normally just be getting out of the West Wing. Josh had told me to go home right before he went in the President's motorcade to Rosslyn.
"Are you sure?" I asked, sticking some papers in a folder and then wheeling over to the file cabinet. I put the folder in its spot, slammed the cabinet shut, and then turned my chair around to face him. He put on his suit coat and leaned up against the doorway.
"Yeah, there's not going to be any calls coming in because they know that no one's going to be here. If something comes up, let someone else take care of it. Listen, we get back from this thing, and everyone's going home anyway. You should go home, get some rest."
I stood up and smiled perkily. "Well, you don't have to tell me twice," I said sweetly as I walked into his office and put a few papers down on his desk.
Josh turned around and eyed me skeptically. "Well...actually I did," he said. He put on his patented Josh smirk. It's the smirk he has whenever he wins and someone else loses. It's his victory smirk. He turned and walked away down the hall.
"Shut up," I called after him as he walked down the hall. He gave me a backwards wave to tell me goodbye.
That had been almost two hours ago. and for the first time in a long time I had nothing to do. I was sitting at home with no reports to write or memos to draft. I was totally cut off from the White House. And it felt pretty good. I glanced at the tape rack. I felt like a movie; something with a hot guy in it.
I got up and put my mug in the sink and then searched through the cabinets. I wanted popcorn. I wanted buttery, fattening popcorn. I had just found my packet and put it in the microwave when the phone rang. I glared at the phone. I'd experienced this before. Zimbabwe had probably attacked some other country, and someone thought that I could really help sort out this national disaster. Josh loved doing this to me.
"You know, there's no legal obligation that you have," I said to myself. "No law says that you have to pick up that phone."
The phone rang once more. I sighed angrily and walked over. I picked the phone up and held it against my ear. "Hello?" I asked, fully prepared to hear Josh's voice on the other end. The microwave buzzed. I took my popcorn out and struggled to open it.
"Donna, it's Charlie. Are you watching your TV?"
"No," I said, confused as to why Charlie was calling, and not Josh. "What's wrong?"
"Just turn it on. Channel 5." I fumbled with the popcorn, the phone, and the remote. There was a tense silence on the other end. I finally managed to turn on the TV, and watched as the anchorman's face filled the screen.
"In our continuing coverage on events in Rosslyn tonight, we have reports that President Bartlet was hit in the side with a bullet. Reports are sketchy, but we think that he is being taken to George Washington Hospital-" I wrenched violently and the popcorn bag burst open, spilling popcorn all over the clean kitchen floor.
"The President just got to GW," Charlie said. I nodded, even though I knew that he couldn't see me. I was running back to my bedroom. "Mrs. Landingham and Margaret are on their way. Margaret said that we should call you and tell you to come to the hospital. She's calling Bonnie and Ginger and telling them to get the Communication's office up and running."
While he was talking I'd already thrown off my sweats and put some clothes on. I hastily put my hair up in a ponytail. "Charlie," I asked, pausing in putting on my shoes, "is the President going to be all right? Was anyone else hit?"
He paused and didn't answer for a few seconds. "We don't know anything yet. Donna? You should probably hurry." He hung up. I threw the phone on the bed and ran out of the apartment, popcorn crunching under my shoes as I went.
Anyway. Here's the next chapter. Oh, and I also wrote to my representative, and he sent me a free copy of the Constitution (or probably someone at his office did!)! I know, I'm an absolute loser. But it has been fun looking up the articles in the Constitution when they mention them on the West Wing.
Disclaimer: Does the actual West Wing own any parts of the show? They probably own more than I do.
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Donna Moss's POV
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---"Donna!" The shout was sudden and unexpected. And it made my hands crash down on the computer in sudden shock. A random mass of letters and punctuation appeared in the report that I was typing for Josh. "Donna!" Speak of the devil. Literally.
I wearily got up from my desk and walked to the door of his office. I leaned against the doorway and watched him. He looked up from his desk and saw me. "Donna, tell me something," he said, opening a thin blue folder. "I have a meeting regarding the national debt in thirty minutes. Right now I am supposed to be reading a report on the national debt. The problem is that I don't have a report on the national debt!" he suddenly yelled.
"Joshua, you shouldn't yell," I remarked calmly. This stopped him right in his tracks. "Now if you'll settle down and talk like a calm and rational person, I will go and get your report." I walked out of his office to go and get the stupid report. This is how you have to handle people like Josh. You have to handle them firmly and with a healthy dose of good-temper and humor. I opened the file cabinet and flicked through a few folders until I found the report on the national debt. "See?" I muttered to myself. "All you have to do is look around a bit, and then you find it." Josh is too tightly wound. He'll die of a heart attack before he reaches forty. I walked back to Josh's office and slapped the report down on his desk. "There's your report," I said cheerily.
"Thanks," he mumbled, picking it up and immersing himself in the report.
"Do you need anything else?
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Do you want me to get you a cookie?"
"No."
"Do you want me to get out."
"Yes."
I closed the door behind me and walked out to my desk. I stared at the softly glowing computer screen for a few seconds. The random letters were still there. I sighed and deleted the entire line and started over. Within thirty seconds I was completely absorbed in my work. All the regular noises of the bullpen faded away. There was just me, the computer's whirr and the quiet clacking of ten-fingered typing. It was a very peaceful situation for a while. For a while.
"Donna!" I slammed my head onto the desk. I was so close to getting this done. So close! "Donna!" I brought my head up to glare at anyone who might be watching me. It was right then that I noticed something extraordinary. The bullpen was empty. It wasn't empty like it was 5:15 on a Friday evening with a few people running around trying to tie things up. It was empty like it was 1:30 on Saturday morning. There was no one in the bullpen. I was completely alone. Not only was I alone in the bullpen, but there was no one in the halls. There was no one in the Communications bullpen, or in the press room, or in the Oval Office. I was totally alone in the West Wing, if not the White House.
"Donnatella Moss!" Well, not totally alone. I stood up and took a small step towards Josh's office. I was slightly freaked out. I'd always wished for total and absolute quiet, but I'd never really thought about it. The chaos and insanity of the bullpen had been replaced by a tomb-like silence. And it was pretty scary.
I looked at Josh's polished wooden door, and that was when I got really scared. His door seemed to rush at me and everything else pulled away. It left me shaken and not knowing where I was. By now I was absolutely terrified. I took two tiny steps forward but the door didn't seem to be getting any closer.
Josh called out again. "Donna!" But this yell lacked the usual annoyance and command. Instead of those two emotions, this yell had a degree of urgency, fear, and pleading in it. "Donna!"
"I'm coming!" I tried to call, but it came out as a whisper. "Josh!"
"Donna!" ---
"Donna?" Someone was shaking my shoulder. "Donna!" I started awake and sat straight up. My face had been buried in the pillows on the couch in my apartment that I shared with my roommate Patricia. And speaking of Patty, she was the one that had woken me up. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," I said, sweeping a few errant strands of hair out of my eyes. "Yeah, I just had a dream. Are you going out?" I asked, watching her snap on a bracelet.
"I'm going out with Drew tonight and I shouldn't be back until late," she said, throwing on a light windbreaker. "I just stopped here for a few things before I go. Listen, are you going to be okay here?"
"Yeah, Josh let me go early tonight," I said, curling my legs up on the couch. "You and Drew go and have a good time. I'll be fine here by myself. I've got some hot chocolate, I'll be fine," I said, giving her my brightest and cheeriest Donna smile.
She walked to the door and then turned back. "Oh Donna?" she called out in a singsong voice. "You were calling out a name in your sleep. You kept calling out Josh. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but when you start dreaming about a guy, that's when it becomes serious."
She grinned like the Cheshire Cat and swept out of the door. "Patricia!" I wailed. And I was left alone in the apartment, incredibly confused. Let's just say that the dream upset me just a little bit. I got up, changed into a pair of sweats, and took off my makeup. I got my hot chocolate and sat down to have myself a serious think.
Josh and I didn't have a relationship. Well, we actually did, but not a romantic one. He was my boss, and I was his assistant (or the Deputy Deputy Chief of Staff, depending on how you looked at it). I am deeply attached to Josh, but it's not really more attached than I am to anyone else on the staff. I guess that Josh and I are like Margaret and Leo. You can't imagine one without the other. The just fit. Like puzzle pieces.
I finished the hot chocolate and glanced at the VCR clock. It was 10:23. I'd normally just be getting out of the West Wing. Josh had told me to go home right before he went in the President's motorcade to Rosslyn.
"Are you sure?" I asked, sticking some papers in a folder and then wheeling over to the file cabinet. I put the folder in its spot, slammed the cabinet shut, and then turned my chair around to face him. He put on his suit coat and leaned up against the doorway.
"Yeah, there's not going to be any calls coming in because they know that no one's going to be here. If something comes up, let someone else take care of it. Listen, we get back from this thing, and everyone's going home anyway. You should go home, get some rest."
I stood up and smiled perkily. "Well, you don't have to tell me twice," I said sweetly as I walked into his office and put a few papers down on his desk.
Josh turned around and eyed me skeptically. "Well...actually I did," he said. He put on his patented Josh smirk. It's the smirk he has whenever he wins and someone else loses. It's his victory smirk. He turned and walked away down the hall.
"Shut up," I called after him as he walked down the hall. He gave me a backwards wave to tell me goodbye.
That had been almost two hours ago. and for the first time in a long time I had nothing to do. I was sitting at home with no reports to write or memos to draft. I was totally cut off from the White House. And it felt pretty good. I glanced at the tape rack. I felt like a movie; something with a hot guy in it.
I got up and put my mug in the sink and then searched through the cabinets. I wanted popcorn. I wanted buttery, fattening popcorn. I had just found my packet and put it in the microwave when the phone rang. I glared at the phone. I'd experienced this before. Zimbabwe had probably attacked some other country, and someone thought that I could really help sort out this national disaster. Josh loved doing this to me.
"You know, there's no legal obligation that you have," I said to myself. "No law says that you have to pick up that phone."
The phone rang once more. I sighed angrily and walked over. I picked the phone up and held it against my ear. "Hello?" I asked, fully prepared to hear Josh's voice on the other end. The microwave buzzed. I took my popcorn out and struggled to open it.
"Donna, it's Charlie. Are you watching your TV?"
"No," I said, confused as to why Charlie was calling, and not Josh. "What's wrong?"
"Just turn it on. Channel 5." I fumbled with the popcorn, the phone, and the remote. There was a tense silence on the other end. I finally managed to turn on the TV, and watched as the anchorman's face filled the screen.
"In our continuing coverage on events in Rosslyn tonight, we have reports that President Bartlet was hit in the side with a bullet. Reports are sketchy, but we think that he is being taken to George Washington Hospital-" I wrenched violently and the popcorn bag burst open, spilling popcorn all over the clean kitchen floor.
"The President just got to GW," Charlie said. I nodded, even though I knew that he couldn't see me. I was running back to my bedroom. "Mrs. Landingham and Margaret are on their way. Margaret said that we should call you and tell you to come to the hospital. She's calling Bonnie and Ginger and telling them to get the Communication's office up and running."
While he was talking I'd already thrown off my sweats and put some clothes on. I hastily put my hair up in a ponytail. "Charlie," I asked, pausing in putting on my shoes, "is the President going to be all right? Was anyone else hit?"
He paused and didn't answer for a few seconds. "We don't know anything yet. Donna? You should probably hurry." He hung up. I threw the phone on the bed and ran out of the apartment, popcorn crunching under my shoes as I went.