AN: Sorry this took forever! Lots of stuff happened, so it took a while for me to get back into writing. But I did and here's the result. The next chapter, which I'm about to write, will be in Donna's POV followed by Sam's. I'll make sure to make clear whose POV is being used.
This was truly agonizing.
He wanted to let her sleep, so he stayed in his room, wishing that he could call out to her, or, if he didn't feel so damn sore, he would go to her, insist that she tell him her dream so he could chase the monster away.
But, more than anything, he wished that he wasn't shot, so he wouldn't be out of the loop and he wouldn't be faced with the idea that Donna was more than Donna and he would, if not now, than soon, have to make the choice to cross a line that he knew would mean the end, or sit in this hell of wanting something he couldn't have.
A man, Joshua Lyman decided, shouldn't have to escape death only to face such a terrible decision.
He had to wake up.
He had to face her.
He couldn't stay in here forever, he reasoned. Eventually she would come to check on him and really, the thought of her in his bedroom, possibly sitting on the edge of his bed, insisting on check his bandages would be too damn much for him and he would have to face the fact that he wanted to kiss Donna Moss more than anything else in the world and he wasn't even sure if she felt the same way.
He got up, walked, shuffled if he was being honest with himself, to the living room, hoping to find her fast asleep on the sofa.
She was gone.
For a second he was paralyzed, seized with the thought that she was gone, that if he looked he'd find a note about how she thought it was best if he found a nurse to take care of him, because she couldn't anymore.
Yet no such note existed, so Josh went on a quest to find Donna.
The light to the kitchen was on and he smelled coffee. He smiled, thinking of how Donna only made him coffee once and that was when he was pretty sure that by the end of the day he would be looking for a new job.
He finds her sitting among a sea of books and notes, books that look like cookbooks, completely oblivious to the fact that he was leaning against the wall, just staring at her.
"Hey," she said throatily. "How did you sleep?"
He shrugged. Miserable. I heard you sob and that's all I could think about. I wanted to go to you, but I can't because I'm a coward and if I'm really honest and I'm feeling particularly honest, I would say that I wanted to bring you to my bed because I'm pretty sure I'm falling for you and all I could think about was how you were on the couch-my couch and that it was distinctly unfair that you were not with me.
"Fine," he said flippantly. "You?"
She wouldn't meet his eyes. "Fine."
He sat next to her. "What is all of this?"
She shrugged again. "Just notes to myself. Now, you have an appointment with Dr. Geig tomorrow afternoon and then an appointment with a physical therapist next week. I'm going to the office today, but it's only for a few hours. Do you think you'll be ok? I wouldn't go, but I really need to get some things to Toby and Leo."
"I'm almost forty, Donna. I think I can take care of myself."
"But you're-"
"I know," he said shortly. He knew he was being rude, but he hated the fact that all she saw was an invalid.
He
really wanted to prove her wrong.
"Now that I have a better idea
of what to make for dinner and lunch I'll do some shopping as well.
I'll be back well in time for dinner and I'll have my cell phone
if you need anything at all."
He nodded. "Can I have coffee?"
"Not until the doctor says so. The rules, remember?"
"Screw the rules," he said exasperatedly. "I want my damn coffee."
"No."
They stared at each other, her blue eyes burning into his soul.
"I'm not going to watch you kill yourself," she whispered, before standing up and leaving.
He heard the door shut behind her, wincing as the sound vibrated throughout the apartment.
"Shit," he muttered to himself.
He made himself some cereal. He was hoping something like Frosted Flakes, but Donna got him Cheerios, so he would have to make due.
This wasn't going to be a very good day.
After spending hours in front of the television, Josh had learned about the sociology of hippos and about genetic disorders.
His phone rang.
He hoped it was Donna. She hadn't called him all day and he wanted to hear her voice. But she was pissed at him, really pissed at him and she wouldn't be calling him any time soon, he thought.
A guy could dream though, couldn't he?
"You've screwed up."
"Thanks, Sam. I was a little confused on that. I'm glad that you came along and cleared that up for me."
"What the hell did you say to her, anyway? She was walking around here like someone had killed her puppy."
"Donna doesn't have a puppy."
"You're an idiot."
"Hey! Exactly whose best friend are you?"
"Right now not yours. Not unless you have a really good reason for being mean to Donna."
"How are you so sure I was the one who was mean to her?"
"Josh, somehow I don't think that it was the sandwich guy at the mess. Now, what did you say to her this morning?"
"She wouldn't let me have coffee."
There was silence.
"Sam?"
"You had her crying in your office over coffee?"
"She was crying?"
The thought profoundly disturbed him. Donna waited for him in his office, looking for him. He always made it a point to sit in his chair for a good ten minutes, right after she left it because he liked how it smelled like her. She didn't know he knew that she did this, that she sat in his chair and waited for him, just like she didn't know that there was a reason why no one was allowed to go near him for five whole minutes after a meeting. He gave her some bullshit reason of "I need to let it all sink in," but really it was so he could remember why. Why he did this job, why he worked eighteen hour days, why he got up in the morning.
It was worth it when Donna looked at him when he accomplished something.
"Yeah. You want to tell me why?"
"I heard her crying last night."
"Let me guess. You were a jackass and wanted to know if she was crying over a gomer of a boyfriend."
"No. She doesn't know I know."
"Look, just let you know you appreciate her, alright? Maybe take her to dinner when you're…"
"Not stumbling around in pain?"
"I was going to say when you were recovered, but yours works too, thought mine is definitely more euphemistic and free from negatives, which only serve to create an awkward cadence."
"You do know that I stopped listening half way through your sentence, right?"
"I would be surprised if you hadn't."
"Has she left the office yet?"
"Yes. She said something about having to run some errands and then having dinner with you."
Josh smiled. "Good, ok."
"You'll behave yourself?"
"Yeah. Yeah. I will."
"Good. Take her out to dinner or hell, go crazy and invite her to a movie. Just…don't be you."
Josh had the sinking feeling that he was screwed.