What the fuck did I just do?
Donna leans against the wall outside Josh's apartment door. She once told Amy Gardner that she had to 'get Josh', but what she herself just did was contrary to absolutely everything she knows about him.
She can feel her anxiety revving up, a knot twisting in her stomach. Her face feels hot, and she's sure her alabaster skin has turned pink since exiting the apartment. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before pushing off the wall and heading for the stairwell. Hopefully the cold November air will cool her down.
They've known each other for nearly a decade. She's seen him in two serious relationships that he tanked at the slightest sign of trouble. What in god's name would make her think it was the right choice to give him an ultimatum?
She shoves the door to the building open and inhales deeply, letting the nearly freezing D.C. air pierce her lungs. Dread is starting to set in, and the last thing she wants is to have a panic attack standing on the steps of his apartment building in Georgetown.
Five things you can see.
The nosy neighbor in the second floor apartment across the street. A silver BMW parallel parking down the block. A flurry of snow falling in front of her face. Her hair blown into her eyes by the wind. A woman walking her Golden Retriever out of the neighboring building.
Four things you can touch.
The concrete of the railing that leads down the stairs of his building. Her blackberry inside her coat pocket. Her scarf protecting her neck from the chill of the air. The seam of her stockings where they're misaligned at her toes.
Three things you can hear.
The wind whistling past her. The shouting of a construction crew on one end of the block as they fill a pothole. The woman encouraging her dog to do his business.
Two things you can smell.
Her laundry detergent on the fabric of her scarf. The slightly acrid smell of asphalt from the patching of the pothole.
One thing you can taste.
Josh's toothpaste.
She hasn't told him about her thing. It's something she would probably have shared with him a year ago, but ever since she quit her job as his assistant, they haven't been able to get back to the friendship she so values.
If she's being honest, they haven't been the same since Germany.
Slowly she descends the steps and makes her way down the block. He's the person in her life she knows would understand it the best. But she's always been his dependable Donna. What would he think if she told him that she has these horrible nightmares of explosions and hospitals and dying without telling him she loves him?
When she woke up in Germany and he was there, she thought this is it. We're finally getting somewhere. But then she came back and everything was worse. Because it was the same. They were back to pretending there was nothing between them, and the only thing that could have made it worse would have been if he'd started sleeping with Amy again.
As she turns the corner, she knows she should get in her car and go straight home, but she's a little worried about her motor skills at the moment, so instead she keeps walking.
It's another few blocks, and she uses the time to focus on her breathing, but about ten minutes later she climbs the stairs and enters the building.
The Secret Service is there, so she knows CJ is home, and she enters the apartment to find her already dressed and sitting at the counter with a cup of coffee and the newspaper. "Hey," Donna greets quickly.
CJ gives her a quick once over and stifles a smile. "How was your night?" She asks, her voice teasing as she lifts the mug to her lips.
"I went temporarily insane and told Josh that if he couldn't figure out what's going on between us in four weeks then we should probably stop wasting our time."
CJ's eyes slowly widen. "You gave Josh Lyman an ultimatum?" She asks, jaw dropped.
Donna nods slowly in response, feeling her eyes start to water. She doesn't want to cry over him again. Not after all the tears she's spent on him over the last eight years. CJ gets up and rounds the counter, wrapping her arms around her friend's shoulders in a tight hug. Donna reciprocates. She wants to clutch at the back of CJ's jacket and sob into her shoulder, but somewhere in her subconscious she knows that she can't wrinkle or tear-stain the Chief of Staff.
She lets go after a long moment and CJ moves into the kitchen, getting the coffee pot and pouring a mug for the blonde with just a little milk. She hands it to her before reaching for her own. "So what happened?" She asks softly, leaning her hip on the counter and sipping her coffee.
Donna swallows and lowers the mug from her lips, sitting it on the counter. "He went to California yesterday," she explains. "To get Sam. He wants him as deputy. And he called me because he wanted to talk about it…and us."
"Okay, what did he say?" CJ asks.
"Just that we should probably sit down and talk about it at some point." She folds her arms. "And… I don't know he just sounded like he was dreading it. And yeah I know he's addled and twisted and a little inept when it comes to relationships, but I just assumed that when it was us, it would…he would…" She trails off for a moment. CJ just watches her supportively. "I've been in love with him for so long, CJ," the younger woman finally admits, her voice thick with tears. "And now that it's happening, I feel so..."
"Overwhelmed?" CJ finishes. Donna nods slowly, blinking back her tears. "Donna, he probably hasn't slept in six months. He's having to assemble a whole new team to go into the White House for another four, hopefully eight years, and on top of that, this thing between you two is finally happening. You don't think he's feeling just as overwhelmed as you are?"
Donna takes a deep breath. "Yeah," she breathes. "Yeah, I guess."
She goes through her day with that twisted little knot in her stomach, and she's shocked that she manages to stand her ground when he tries to worm his way out of the timeline. She's even more shocked that she doesn't just shout, "I'm in love with you, jackass!" in the hallway.
She goes home after that and pours herself a glass of wine. At least the whole career thing has sorted itself out. The only reservation she had about taking the FLOTUS Chief of Staff job was that it would put her in direct contact with Josh on a regular basis. But then she thinks how often did Amy work with Leo and feels a little better. It's more likely she'll be working with the DCOS, and if Sam takes the job, so much the better.
Besides, she's done making career choices based on Josh Lyman. She left that dysfunction behind when she started working for Russell.
She sips from her glass and powers up her laptop, her mind already racing with a million ideas for how to make the most of the First Lady's tenure in the White House. She's been clicking away at her keyboard for an hour when there's a knock at the door. Who would be knocking on CJ's door at 2 p.m. on a Monday? But she answers it anyway.
"Josh," she says with surprise. "What are you doing here?"
He's silent as he hands her an envelope.
She eyes it for a long moment, terrified that he's handing her a Dear John letter. But she takes it from him anyway, knowing that if this is going to end, she might as well start the grieving process as soon as possible.
She's shocked at the contents and she looks up at him, her eyes wide, her mouth gaping like Gail the goldfish.
"I looked into the Federated States of Micronesia, but the flights aren't as frequent," he murmurs sheepishly, and he looks the most nervous she's ever seen him. And that includes when she was lying on a table in Germany about to have emergency surgery.
"You're taking me to Hawaii?" She asks, her voice catching. She can't believe he remembers that conversation. She wants to ask about work. About the President Elect. About Sam. But he's looking at her like she holds his heart in her hands and she just smiles.
"I'm gonna go pack," he tells her. "And by pack, I mean…shop. I don't remember the last time I went to a beach so I don't know if I even own a pair of sw– "
She stops him by kissing him tenderly, her hand on his cheek, the other still holding the envelope. He takes hold of her waist cautiously, as though he's still not sure of her answer. Finally she pulls away and tells him, "Go pack. I'll meet you on the plane."
He grins widely, almost in disbelief, before he wraps his arms around her, kissing her more confidently this time before heading off with the promise to meet her at the airport in two hours.
She watches him go and feels the knot in her stomach finally unwind.