Crossing the Line
Completed: 1/19/07
Rating: R
Summary: Post-ep to “
Author’s Notes: You should know that this is not my typical lovable adorkable Josh. He spends a decent part of this fic in a pretty dark place, so prepare yourselves for that.
He pulls into a spot
across the street from her building, putting his car into park but leaving it
running. It’s grossly hot outside, it always is in DC in July, so until he gets up the nerve to actually get out and cross
the street, he figures he might as well be cool.
She doesn’t want to
see him and he knows it. It’s Saturday, and she usually works at least half the
day on Saturday, but she wasn’t at the office that morning. He can’t really
blame her for that; things between them have gone from bad to worse to so much
worse than he ever imagined they could be. But it’s his job to fix it even if
he still can’t help thinking it’s partly her fault. If she’d never brought it
up, they wouldn’t be in this mess.
He felt like he was
going to explode. Nothing was going right and regardless of how hard he pushed,
how late he stayed, how many people he screamed at and fought with it still
wasn’t working. He couldn’t get Berryhill confirmed, he
couldn’t get the president back on task, he couldn’t make the country forget
that their choices to kill Shareef had gotten Zoey kidnapped, and he couldn’t stop the republicans from
taking every opportunity that came along with that.
The fireworks were bright
and the music accompanying them patriotic, and everyone around was drinking
champagne and laughing and allowing themselves to
forget that nothing was going right. He wished he could do that too; wished he
could forget, even if it was just for a few hours. His tension was mounting; he
was starting to snap at Donna, at Toby, at CJ, at anyone who dared cross his
path actually. He thought that maybe if he just went off to some dark corner
and screamed, literally screamed, it might release
some of his tension.
But then there was
Amy. Looking at him coyly, smiling that not real smile of hers and staring at
him like she was a predator and he her prey. There was no question as to what
she wanted, it was written clearly across her face. And it would be so easy, so
fucking easy to just go. To follow her out of there and to
her apartment and just lose himself in her for the night and forget everything
else. Release a little tension.
She walked past him
and back into the White House and after glancing quickly around to make sure he
wasn’t completely obvious, he followed her, already picturing himself pounding
away inside her soft pliant body. He didn’t want to be gentle, and he knew from
experience that she would be more than ok with that.
Once inside the building,
she turned around and kissed him. It was light and playful and he wanted
nothing of it. Grasping the back of her head, he plundered her mouth with his
tongue and moved one hand to roughly handle her breast. Yes, this would work to
release his tension just fine.
He broke off the kiss
and looked at her smirk. She thought she was winning, he could see it in her
grin. As if she’d finally broken him with her fuck-me eyes and superior
attitude and he was crawling back to her on his knees. He wondered if she knew
he was using her, if she even cared. He kissed her again, even harder. She was
probably using him too.
“Twenty minutes, your
place,” he said when he pulled away from her. It was the first thing he’d said
to her since they walked into the building and it was anything but loving, but
he didn’t give a shit. This wasn’t about that and they both knew it. He turned
and walked towards his office without another word.
The halls were dark
and empty; everyone was outside celebrating. And while there was little to
celebrate, he was glad no one was around. For the first time in weeks, he
didn’t want to talk business. He walked inside his office and flipped on the
small desk light, then grabbed his cell phone and started rooting around his
desk for his keys.
“Let’s go grab a
beer.”
He looked up
startled. Donna was leaning against his doorframe with a carefully placed
casual expression on her face. “I…” He looked back at his desk, picking up the
mountains of paper work in search of his car keys. “Why aren’t you outside? You
love fireworks.”
“You’ve seen one set
of fireworks you’ve seen them all. Let’s go to the Hawk and Dove.” Her voice,
like her face, was purposely casual.
He stopped his
searching but didn’t look up at her. Was it not enough that he’d spend most of
the night picturing her? “I can’t.”
“Sure you can. You
get your keys, we walk to your car, in ten minutes were letting off steam.”
He abandoned his desk
for his backpack, unzipping it and rooting around the inside for his keys.
Where in the hell were they? “Tomorrow,” he said dismissively. “I’ve got
something tonight.”
“Come with me
instead,” she said not so casually now as she walked into the office to stand
in front of his desk.
“I don’t want to get
drunk,” he said impatiently.
A pause. “Then we’ll get pizza.”
He looked up at her
again, getting pissed now. “I have plans,” he said, going back to his backpack.
His fingers hit the ring and he heard a jingle; finally. He pulled the keys out
and dropped the backpack to the floor. Shoving them into his pocket, he walked
around his desk and towards the door.
“Please don’t go to
Amy’s.”
His hand on the
doorframe, he froze. Her voice was unbelievably quiet, but he heard her just
the same. He thought he was being so clever, but of course she knew.
He turned slowly
around and looked at her, her eyes full of pain and desperation that only
served to piss him off more. She’d spent the winter with Jack Reece and he
hadn’t said a word. Not one damn word. Who he fucked was none of her business.
“Don’t go to Amy’s,”
she repeated. “Come home with…”
He shook his head.
“Don’t,” he said in a voice full of gravel. He didn’t want that with her.
She seemed absolutely
relieved that he didn’t let her finish the thought, didn’t let her say
something she didn’t mean and would regret. She looked down at the ground. “I
hate to see you with her.” Looking back up at him, she tried for a smile and
failed. “Anyone really.”
“Donna,” he
whispered, shaking his head. “Don’t do this.”
She took a tentative
step towards him and after faltering once, put a hand gently on his chest, the
air turning thick with silence while they stared at each other.
“I love…”
“Stop, just stop,” he
said forcefully, cutting her off. He reached between them and pulled her hand
off of him, pretending he didn’t notice that it was trembling. Her lips started
trembling then too, tearing at his heart and his resolve. “We’re not talking about
this,” he said, backing away from her.
They didn’t talk about this. This was the one subject that was taboo to
them.
“Josh…”
“We’re not talking
about this,” he repeated.
She bit her bottom
lip as he stared at her, fear and arousal and anger burning through his veins
like adrenaline. When she inhaled a
shaky breath he turned quickly and faced the door so he wouldn’t have to see
the tears that would follow it. He’d never be able to walk away from that.
“You have a way
home?” he asked, looking out into the empty hallway.
Silence followed,
then another shaky breath. “Yes,” she breathed out.
He nodded and paused,
then walked out the door.
Sighing, he turns off
the car and steps out into the muggy July heat, waiting as a few cars pass
before jogging across the street to her building. It’s now or never and never
isn’t an option. Not with her.
He hadn’t gone to
Amy’s that night, of course. There was no way it would have been enough after
that, and as fucked up as he’s been lately, he’d never do that to Donna.
Instead, he’d gone home and had three glasses of Jack and Coke before dropping
the pretense and forgoing the Coke for the last four glasses.
He stumbled past her
desk towards his office, watching her out of the corner of his eye. She was
typing something on her computer and studiously avoiding him, which was ok
since he didn’t know what the hell to say anyway. She didn’t follow him into
his office with her killer smile, her quick wit and his schedule like usual,
and he stood behind his desk and stared at his door for at least a minute
before telling himself she wasn’t coming in. He finally dropped into his seat
to let his head fall onto the desk; his neck was killing him from the odd
position he found himself in on his couch that morning, his head was throbbing
in about fifteen different ways, and keeping his eyes opened required a bit
more strength than he possessed at the moment.
“You have Senator
Miller in the Roosevelt Room in ten minutes,” he heard about a half hour later.
He picked his head up and looked in her direction, avoiding eye contact.
“Ok.”
She stayed at the
door to the office, as if the distance could protect her from him. She seemed
to want to say something, but couldn’t quite get it out. Finally she shook her
head and lifted her eyes towards the ceiling. “You should change shirts and put
on a fresh tie.”
He sat up and looked
down at his clothes. He’d fallen asleep, or passed out, on his couch wearing
exactly what he’d worn to work the day before, and when he’d woken up that
morning, a half an hour after he should’ve been at the office, he’d simply
brushed his teeth, splashed some cold water on his face and left. “Do I have anything
clean here?”
She didn’t answer so
he looked up, actually seeing her for the first time that morning. She was
wearing a grey sweater that was too big and hung off her small frame making her
look more frail than usual. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face was blotched, and
she looked older than her thirty-one years. She still wasn’t looking at him,
choosing instead to study the wall over his left shoulder, but she nodded
slightly and walked into the small room connected to his office, returning a
minute later with a dry clean wrapped shirt and a blue tie.
He stood up and took
them from her, his desk still serving as a barrier between them. “Thanks,” he
mumbled.
Without responding,
she walked towards the door and he started taking off his day-old tie.
“Can you please do
something for me today?” He looked up with questioning, almost frightened eyes.
What if she brought it up again? “Can you please just… not throw her in my face
today?”
It took him a moment
to get what she was saying, his eyes widening in realization of what she
obviously thought his wearing yesterday’s suit meant. “I didn’t…”
“Just for one day,
please. If you need her, call her yourself or go over there. Don’t make me deal
with her today.”
Dumfounded, he nodded
and watched as she left.
He walks up the
block, passing several people in shorts and t-shirts, out for walks with
significant others. They smile and laugh and hold hands and he wonders if he
and Donna will ever have that.
About half way up the
stairs to her building, he notices that the note is finally gone. That threatening call to her super two days
earlier must’ve done the trick.
He got out of his
car, tucking his head against the pouring rain and jogging across the deserted
street to her apartment building. There was something taped to the door and he
swore under his breath when he read the same note he had six months earlier
when he’d come to whisk her away to the inaugural balls. Damn dump she lived
in.
He pulled on the door
handle in frustration and surprisingly it opened. He looked down and saw that
someone had propped it open with a rock and his mind immediately flashed to the
kind of danger she could be in. Stamping it down, he kicked the rock out of the
way and went inside, taking the steps two at a time to the third floor.
He pounded on her
door loudly, paying little attention to who he might be waking up at
She opened the door
in jogging shorts and a loose-fitting t-shirt with her hair in a messy
ponytail, looking unfocused and confused and half asleep.
“Go home,” she said,
squinting at the light in the hallway.
He ignored her and
pushed past her into the small alcove that led to her living room, wiping his
wet face with his hand. “No. We need to talk.”
She paused, blinking
a few times. “We can talk at work.”
He laughed harshly.
“We haven’t spoken at work in three days.”
She sighed heavily
and shut the door. “Fine,” she said in a dead voice, gesturing to him. “Talk.”
She crossed her arms
over her chest, pushing what he assumed to be her braless chest up and slightly
out. That, combined with her in sleepwear, proved to be a distraction and when
he opened his mouth he couldn’t think of any of the number of things he’d gone
over in his mind.
She finally rolled
her eyes. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“There are certain
things I can not discuss with subordinates,” he said suddenly.
At that, daggers
formed in her eyes and she turned and opened the door. “Get the hell out.”
He shook his head;
that might not have been the best thing to say. Focusing again on his reason
for being there, he took a step forward and pushed the door closed. “Not until
we figure out how we’re going to work together again.”
“Work together?” she
asked unbelievably. “That’s what you want to talk about at
Looking down at the
ground, he ran a hand over his face. “Yes, Donna,” he said calmly. “That’s what
we do. We work together.”
“I don’t give a shit
about work right now, Josh!” She yelled. She turned and shook her head. “I
can’t believe…” she mumbled to the wall. After a calming breath she turned back
to him and spoke softer. “Do you think it was easy for me to say that to you?
To ask you not to…”
“We can’t talk about
that,” he said, shaking his head. “We can’t… we’re not talking about that.”
That’s not why he was there. This was about work. They had to work together.
They had to get past this and work together.
“It wasn’t,” she
said, ignoring him. “It was harder than anything I’ve ever said. And you just…”
“We’re not talking
about this,” he said more forcefully.
“Yes, we are. You
ignored me. I told you I love you and you ignored me. If you didn’t feel the same, the least…”
“You had no right to
say that,” he accused, cutting her off with a finger in her chest. “No right,
Donna!” And now he was the one yelling.
She backed up to the
wall in the small alcove. “I don’t have to ask your…”
“That was my thing to
say,” he shouted, closing the distance between them. “Mine! It was my job; I
was the one who was supposed to say that!
And you took that away from me!”
He stopped suddenly and looked
at her. Her jaw was set, her eyes were bright, and her face was clean of
make-up and fresh looking. And before he really knew what he was doing he had
her face in his hands and was kissing her. And God help him it felt right. Too hard and too fast and too deep for their first kiss, but so
fucking right. She startled and pulled back slightly, but he held on,
pushing and kissing and demanding reciprocation until he got it. And then she
was pushing her body up against his wet one and he was pushing back, shoving
her into the wall and letting his body weight settle against her. And her hands
were behind his back, pulling him even closer and he was lost and found at the
same time.
Dragging his lips
away from hers, he attached himself harshly to her neck, biting and kissing and
sucking on her earlobe. “How the hell am I supposed to
stay away from you now?” he whispered harshly into her ear.
She grabbed him by
the head, pulling his mouth back to hers and kissing him as desperately as he
had her. He brought one hand to her waist and the other to her t-shirt covered
breast, palming it roughly while kissing deeper and deeper and deeper, but
never deep enough..
Her hands began
clawing at his chest, fumbling with the first few buttons before abandoning his
shirt for his pants. Groaning, he moved both hands to her waist and un-gently
shoved her shorts down her legs.
He groaned again when
he felt her hand touch him, sure and strong, and he pulled one of her legs up
around his waist, and then he was moving her underwear to the side and entering
her as hard and deep as he could and fuck, it felt amazing. She moaned and her head flew back, hitting
the wall behind her, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. He moved his
mouth to her neck again, his fingers gripping her waist and ass and thigh, both
holding on and claiming them as his. She would have bruises and he was glad.
And then his body took over, stronger and deeper until he heard her
panting and felt her tightening around him as she drew close. And then she was exploding, leaving her own marks on his arms and
shoulders with her fingernails, and pulling him along with her.
He could hear her
panting in his ear and knew he was doing the same in hers. He let go of her leg
and it dropped to the floor as she dropped her arms from around his neck to
hang at her sides. But still his weight trapped her to the wall as he breathed
in the scent of her neck mixed with sweat while trying to catch his breath.
Her hands came up to
his chest, fisting in his shirt and then pushing lightly, and he backed away
and looked at her with wide eyes. Her face was flushed and her chest was
heaving, but she didn’t look the way she should have. Her t-shirt was still on,
her underwear were nearly back in place, one foot was
still in her shorts. His shirt was only half unbuttoned and his pants were
still around his waist, undone just enough. This was not what their first time
was supposed to be like.
He’d spent nights
dreaming of their first time together, touching every bit of her, tasting every
bit of her, whispering everything he’d ever wanted to say to her, treating her
like porcelain… That’s what he wanted to give her, that’s how he wanted to
treat her. Instead he gave her a quick fuck in the hallway while they were both
nearly dressed.
“I’m…”
She must’ve seen it
in his face, because she quickly shook her head. “Don’t. Don’t you dare apologize.”
“Donna… I…” He shook
his head. “I didn’t mean …”
And then she was
pushing harder, shoving actually, until he stumbled backwards against the
opposite wall. Stepping out of her shorts, she turned from him and walked
towards her bedroom. “Get the hell out of my house.”
He hits the buzzer a
second and third and finally a fourth time. He knows she’s there; her car is
parked directly in front of her building and her living room window is open.
And when he’d buzzed her the first time, she looked out the window at him
before turning and walking away. He waits a few more seconds before ringing it
a fifth time, being reduced to that of a teenager.
Finally he pulls his
cell phone from his pocket and hits his speed dial. “Please go home,” she says
quietly when she answers. Her voice isn’t angry or annoyed or pissed off like
it was when she left the office yesterday. It’s just … sad.
“Please let me in,”
he asks desperately.
“I can’t do this,
Josh.”
He leans his head
against the brick building. “We have to,” he says softly.
There’s a lengthy
pause and then the door buzzes, allowing him to open it. He takes a deep breath
and starts up the stairs slowly, a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach.
If this doesn’t go well, he’s going to lose her.
A noise near the door
drew his attention away from the file he was reading on the soon to be
Vice-President Robert Russell and he looked up as she bent over to pick up
something she’d dropped. She’d been coming and going for the last two days
without speaking to him or even making eye contact with him, but when she stood
back upright, their eyes locked.
“Hey,” he said
quietly for lack of anything better.
She flinched at his
words as if he’d spewed venom at her and quickly looked down at the files in
her hand, rearranging them.
She looked bad; as
bad as she could look, anyway. Put together and professional and beautiful on
the surface for sure, but her eyes were sad and her face like
stone, and he could tell she hadn’t slept in days.
He sighed and took
another approach. “Did anyone call while I was in with the Republican
Leadership?”
Her hands stilled for
a second and then went back to work, pulling out four message slips which she
put on his desk without a word.
He picked them up and
flipped through them. The second one was from Amy. He’d have to talk to Toby
about dealing with Amy for him for a while. He wadded the message up and threw
it away, hoping Donna would know what he was saying,
then looked at the next one. “What did Congressman Allen want?” he asked even
though it was on the message.
She slowly drew her
eyes up to his before looking back down.
“This says he wants
to talk about HR752. What about it?”
Flipping through the
folders again, she pulled out one labeled ‘HR752’ and handed it to him. “He had
a question about something in section C, article 2,” she replied carefully. “He
didn’t say what.”
It wasn’t much, but
at least she spoke. “Ok.”
“I think I have to
quit.”
The room went silent
as he stared up at her, willing her to look at him. When she didn’t, he stood
and walked quickly around his desk, shutting both of his office doors. “That’s
exactly what I’m trying to avoid,” he said, walking up to her.
She shook her head,
still refusing to look at him. “I can’t work with you now.”
“Yes you can. We
just…”
“No,” she
interrupted.
He put a hand on her
shirt-covered arm and she pulled away forcefully, causing her shirt to gape at
the neck and show him the marks he’d put there. The site of them brought back
the taste of her and he had to fight the erection that threatened.
“Don’t touch me,” she
practically growled.
He was still staring
at her neck and she put the folders down on his desk and quickly adjusted her
shirt.
“You’re ok?” he asked
softly, nodding towards the marks he’d made.
“Yes. Physically.”
He dragged his eyes
back to hers and noticed that they were angry now instead of defeated. “There
has to be a way to get past this, Donna.”
She chuckled harshly
and shook her head. “Well that’s going to be a problem because I don’t want to
get past it.”
He didn’t want to get
past it either, and yes, that was a problem.
She turned and walked
to the door. “I’m putting in a transfer request. Please don’t fight it.”
She’s waiting for him
at the top of the third story, standing in her doorway wearing a pair of pale
blue shorts, a pink tank top and no shoes. He figures she must not have been
wearing shoes the other night either, but today he notices that her toenails match
her top.
She stands aside and
lets him into her apartment, then turns and closes the door. He finds his eyes
drawn to the wall where they’d had sex. He refuses to call what they did
fucking, even if it was far from making love.
She clears her throat
and he quickly looks over at her, a no doubt guilty expression on his face. She
glances at the wall and then back at him before passing him and walking into
the living room.
He follows her but
chooses to remain standing when she sits on the couch,
her feet tucked underneath her making her look impossibly young. Neither of
them has said anything and the look on her face tells him she’s not going to be
the one to start. He knew that anyway, but he paces around her small living
room a few times before stopping in front of her.
He takes a deep
breath and since he has no idea where to start, he starts with, “I didn’t sleep
with Amy.”
The admission
obviously shocks her, but she recovers quickly. “Why did you tell me that?”
“Because it’s
important to me that you know I didn’t sleep with her and then…” he trails off
and gestures to her.
“Have sex with me.”
He thinks she
certainly has more guts than he does if she’s able to say that. But of course
she has more guts; she’s the one who brought it up in the first place. “Right.”
“Well,” she says,
standing up and straightening her posture. “Thank you for telling me. We didn’t
use anything, so I appreciate…”
“I’m sorry.”
She stops babbling
and gives him a hard look. “I told you not to apologize to me.”
“I didn’t mean… I
just meant …” Oh hell this is going badly. “That shouldn’t have been something
you had to worry about. I should have… reassured you.”
She pauses. “I could
have asked,” the implication being that she specifically chose not to. He
assumes she was afraid of the answer.
“Could you be…” he
closes his eyes for a second and tells himself to get a grip. “Sorry. What I
mean is, should we be taking a pregnancy test?”
“It won’t show for a
few weeks,” she says. His eyes are
immediately huge and all air rushes out of his lungs. Then she shakes her head
and rolls her eyes. “I’m on the pill, Josh.”
“Oh,” he says, trying
to breathe again. “Ok.”
“I might have been
irresponsible, but I’m not that irresponsible.”
“I didn’t mean to
imply otherwise.” Shit. Now he feels like he’s on a fucking job interview.
She turns around and
walks to the window, looking out at probably nothing. “Is that all you came
for? To tell me you didn’t sleep with Amy?”
“No.” There’s a
lengthy pause while he gathers his thoughts. “The other night…”
“Which other night?”
“Uhh… the first one.” She turns around then and faces him. She seems to be more willing to
discuss that night than the other. “I wasn’t in a place where I could handle
hearing what you were saying to me.”
“I know,” she says,
looking down at the worn carpet. “And I knew it then. I shouldn’t have done
that and I shouldn’t have told you not to go to Amy’s. That was out of line.”
“That’s true,” he
draws out slowly. “But that’s never stopped me before.”
“You’ve never…”
“At least you were
honest about it, Donna. And at least you gave me the option. I’ve lied and used
work to stop you from going out on more dates than I care to admit to.”
A small smile graces
her lips. “I know.”
The room falls silent
for a few moments, one of their more comfortable recently, and Josh sits down
on the coffee table in front of the couch. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, you
know,” he says quietly. “I know things are a mess, but I never meant to hurt you.”
She turns back to the
window so he can’t see her face. “I do know that,” she says distantly. “And I’m
not trying to punish you. But I don’t think I can keep working for you and
pretend…”
“No, I agree.
Transferring you is the right thing to do.”
This startles her; he
can see it in the way she immediately stiffens. She brings a hand up to her
face and although he can’t see what she’s doing, he suspects she’s wiping her
eyes.
“I talked to Leo
today, Donna. About transferring you out of my department.”
He walked out of the
Roosevelt Room after a two hour meeting with Robert Russell and what was left
of Hoynes’ staff. That was going to be a mess.
“How’d it go?”
He turned around
smiled half-heartedly as Leo walked towards him. “Great. The country’s in good
hands,” he said sarcastically.
“The country’s still
in our hands.”
“If that was the
case,” Josh mumbled, “We wouldn’t be about to make Bingo Bob Russell the
vice-president.”
“Josh,” Leo
admonished lightly as they walked down the hall together towards Leo’s office.
“Sorry.”
They walked into
Leo’s office and Leo closed the door behind them before walking towards his
desk. “You want to tell me what’s going on with you and Donna?”
He felt as if someone
punched him in the gut, and he was sure his face betrayed him. “What?” he asked
weakly.
Leo sat down and
handed a piece of paper to Josh. “She requested a transfer.”
Josh took the piece
of paper and stared at it. She was serious. Shit. “Why do you…”
“We lost most of Hoynes’ staff. I asked human resources to keep an eye out
for people to staff Russell. They sent me Donna’s request and resume this
morning.”
Josh sat down heavily
in a chair across from Leo’s desk.
“Is this serious or
are you two having a thing?”
Sighing, Josh leaned
over and put his head in his hands. “She asked me not to fight it.”
“And that’s going to
stop you?” Leo asked with a grin.
Josh looked up at him
but didn’t respond.
“Ahh…
This isn’t about her wanting a promotion, is it?”
Josh shook his head.
“I see…” Leo said
knowingly. “Well... Russell needs policy advisors and congressional liaisons,
although Ed and Larry would probably want first crack at her for that. Amy
mentioned something to me last week about someone to go between the east wing
and Congress. Toby and Will are going to have to put together a new speech
writing staff; she could oversee that. But that’d be an assistant position,
which she’s outgrown.”
“Yeah,” Josh said
nodding, a sick feeling in his stomach. This was actually happening. He took a
deep breath. “I don’t think she’d want to work in the east wing.”
Leo raised an
eyebrow. “She has a problem with the first lady?”
Josh shook his head.
Leo studied him for a
few seconds. “Amy.”
“Yeah. At least I think so.”
“Ok,” Leo said,
nodding. “She here today?”
“No,” Josh said,
running his hands over his face and sitting up.
“Have her set
something up with Margaret for Monday.”
Josh nodded and
stood. “Alright.”
Leo looked back down
at the transfer request. “If you want to convince her otherwise, do it before
then.”
Josh looked at Leo for a few seconds and then
walked to the door. “Leo,” he said, turning back.
Leo looked up at him.
“Yeah?”
Putting on his best
casual voice, he started. “How far away would she have to be if… if I wanted
to… maybe…”
Leo raised an eyebrow
and suppressed a grin. “Far enough away that she wouldn’t answer to you,”
Josh’s eyes widened, a guilty look on his face, and Leo shook his head, then
picked up a briefing and started leafing through it. “You’re fairly
transparent, Josh.”
“Right.” He paused, then turned to leave
and stopped again. “Legislation answers to me, right?”
“You don’t know?”
“No, I mean yes. I
just want to have my facts straight.”
Leo chuckled but
didn’t look up. “Ed and Larry answer to you, yes. Their staff answers to them.”
“Ok, that’s… good to
know.”
She turns around and
faces him with a forced smile. “I guess I thought you’d put up a little fight,”
she says as though she hoped he would.
He shakes his head
and stands up. “No. We can’t work together now.”
She nods and lifts
her eyes towards the ceiling as if trying to hold back tears.
He takes a few steps
until he’s standing right in front of her. “I know you don’t want to hear
this…” She shakes her head but he keeps talking. “But I am sorry.”
She wraps her arms
around herself, making her look small and fragile. “I know you are,” she
whispers. “It was…” She stops and swallows as tears fill her eyes. “…written all over your face. I wish I could be; I wish I
could regret it. But I don’t.”
It’s the hope he
needs that he hasn’t ruined this thing with her and he smiles softly. “I don’t
regret it, Donna.”
Her eyebrows knit in
confusion, a look he’s chuckled at more times than he can count. A look he’s
wanted to kiss away more times than he can count. “I don’t regret it,” he
repeats as he brushes her cheeks with his fingertips. It startles her and he
smiles, staring at her lips. “But I am sorry,” he whispers before barely
touching his lips to hers. He kisses her bottom lip almost chastely before
moving slightly and doing the same thing to her top lip.
She’s very tense
under his lips and fingers, so he moves away from her mouth and kisses her
cheeks and eyelids, which relaxes her slightly. When he goes back to her mouth
she starts to kiss him back, parting her lips. But instead of opening his mouth
and kissing the hell out of her, he pulls back just a little and kisses the
corner of her mouth and then the other corner. She stays passive after that,
allowing him to brush his lips over hers time and again.
He pulls back when
she’s sighing and he’s damn-near moaning, and smiles at her. “I’m sorry our
first kiss wasn’t like that.”
She still isn’t quite
sure what’s going on, so he kisses her again, a bit deeper this time, while
moving his fingers to her hair and running them from root to tip. She drops her
arms from her chest and rests them softly on his. When his lips leave her
mouth, he places light, warm kisses her collarbone and the small part of her
chest that’s visible above her tank top. “I’m sorry I didn’t go slow,” he says
in a husky voice a moment later as he moves his hands down to the hem of her
tank top. He looks at her questioningly; her eyes are wide and almost
disbelieving, but she nods and then he’s dragging the tank top up and off. “I’m
sorry I didn’t look at your breasts.”
And suddenly she laughs.
He grins up at her. “Really, Donna. They’re quite spectacular. I should have
taken the time.”
He bends down and
lays tiny kisses across her breasts while rubbing small circles on her stomach
with his thumbs. Then he sighs and goes back to her lips; her magnificent lips.
“We’re in front of
the window,” she reminds him when he moves to her neck, and without breaking
away, he turns them and starts walking them towards her bedroom.
“I’m sorry I didn’t
make love to you in a bed,” he mumbles before moving to the other side of her
neck and stopping suddenly at the sight of the marks he left there two nights
ago.
“You’re sorry about
that?” she asks with a smile.
He drags his eyes to
her face. “Actually… that’s really hot.” He starts them walking again and
kisses her neck softly, letting his tongue slip out and touch the marks there.
“But I am sorry I didn’t kiss it better afterwards.”
They make it to her
bedroom slowly, slowly, slowly, and he stops her by the edge of the bed and
gets down on his knees so he can kiss her stomach. He finds a spot that makes
her giggle and looks up at her face. “I’m sorry I didn’t find that.”
“I bet you are,” she
says with a smile.
He kisses it again
and grins at the way her stomach jerks as she laughs. “Definitely sorry about
that,” he says, kissing it over and over. “We’re gonna
have to come back to that spot later.”
He goes back to
kissing her stomach and brings his hands up to the waistband of her shorts.
Pushing them slowly down her legs, he nibbles lightly on her hip bone. He
brings each of her legs up off the floor, caressing her calves as he pulls her
shorts all the way off. Then he leans back on his heels and stares at her. “I’m
so sorry I didn’t do this,” he says, stressing the ‘so.’
She puts a hand in
his hair plays with his curls with her fingers. “Do what?”
“Look at you,” he
breathes out, transfixed on her body.
He continues looking
until she’s blushing, her entire body a light shade of pink, then
he stands and kisses her some more. She sits down on the bed and he crawls over
her as she moves back towards the headboard. He can feel her fingers on his
shirt, but instead of helping her remove it, he starts kissing down her neck to
her breasts again.
“You’re distracting
me,” she sighs as her hands drop to the bed.
“I’m sorry I didn’t
distract you,” he mumbles against her left breast.
“Oh, you did.”
He chuckles and
kisses down her body, placing a light kiss on her pink underwear before
stopping suddenly. There’s an ugly, purple bruise on her right thigh that
catches his attention and upon further inspection, he finds three more on the
back of her thigh. He places his thumb softly on the first one and stretches
his hand around her thigh, his fingers landing perfectly on the three in back.
The smile wiped off his face, he looks up at her. “Did I…”
“I thought you said
it was hot,” she says with a small smile his way.
He shakes his head
and looks down at the bruises again.
“It’s ok, Josh,” she
reassures as she puts a hand on the back of his head.
“No…”
“Believe me when I
tell you I didn’t feel any pain at the time.”
His fingertips are
brushing over the bruise on the top of her leg softly, as if he can wipe it
away. He leans further down and kisses it softly. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“I like it,” she says
with a smile. “I saw them there the next morning and they made me think you
wanted me as badly as I wanted you.”
He looks up at her
and studies her face for some sign that she’s not telling the truth, but her
smile widens and he takes a breath.
He kisses the bruise
again. “I have them too.”
“From me?” she asks, her head lifting a little as his fingers begin toying
with the band of her underwear.
“Yeah,” he says,
pulling them down as she lifts her hips. “Scratches on my
shoulders and arms. They’re hot.”
“Let me see.”
“Later,” he mumbles
into her inner thigh.
When she’s panting
and spent a few minutes later, he kisses his way back up her body to her neck
and then her ear. “I’m sorry I only made you come once,” he growls into her ear
before sucking the lobe into his mouth.
His words make her
moan and she quickly rids him of his clothing. He pushes inside her almost
painfully slowly, relishing in the sounds she makes and the look on her face,
and when he’s in as far as possible, he looks down at her. “I’m sorry I didn’t
tell you that I love you too.” And she smiles, a brilliant, radiant smile that
makes him feel amazing.
He watches her as
they make love, the flush of her face, the arch of her back, the stormy look in
her eyes, the way her fingers tighten in the blankets beneath her as she
climaxes a second time. It’s enough, he thinks, to be inside her, even if he
never found his own release. But too soon he’s groaning her name and collapsing
on top of her.
He rolls off of her
and onto his side, cradling her back against his chest.
“We should get under
the covers,” she says breathlessly.
“Kay,” he mumbles
against her shoulder without moving.
She chuckles and sits
up, climbing underneath the covers. With a grin, he follows, slipping between
the sheets and pulling her back to him. He buries his face in her neck and
closes his eyes.
“So,” she says a
minute later. “We’re really not going to be working together, are we?”
“Can’t now,” he
replies without opening his eyes. “You’re supposed to call Margaret on Monday
and get some time with Leo.”
She turns in his arms
so she’s facing him, a small pout on her face. “But I like working with you.”
He smiles and opens
his eyes. “I love working with you,” he says before kissing her nose. “But this
is better.”
She smiles. “Yeah.”
He handed her a pink
message slip, then another and another and another. He wadded the next one up
and threw it away, then handed her the last two.
“What do I…”
“I’m supposed to meet
with them this week,” he said as he flipped through some mail, handing most of
it to her as well. “Call them and tell them we’re in
“The fifteenth?”
He looked over at
her, still perplexed by the very thought of her. “Yeah, that sounds right.”
She grinned at him.
“Is there a phone I can use?”
He stood up and
pulled his off his belt, handing it to her. “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”
“We’re on a moving
bus. Where would I go?”
He tilted his head.
“You’re a sarcastic one.”
“Am I?”
He smirked at her.
“That’s good to know; you’re from
“Yes.”
“Ok, just wait.”
He turned and walked
up the aisle towards Sam, glancing back at her with a peculiar look as she
dialed his cell phone, a wide-eyed and innocent, yet determined expression on
her face. He marveled at her fearlessness and youth.
“Who’s she?”
“Huh?” he asked,
turning his head to look at Sam.
“That girl,” Sam
said, nodding towards Donna. “Who is she?”
“Oh,” Josh said,
looking back towards the seat she chose in the back. “Donna Moss.”
“Who’s Donna Moss?”
“My new assistant,”
Josh said, sitting down in the seat across from Sam.
“Your new assistant?” Sam asked in a
shocked voice, looking back at her.
“Yeah.”
“She’s your new
assistant,” Sam asked again.
“Yes.”
“The blonde.”
Josh nodded and
smiled. “Yeah, and don’t let the farm-girl look fool you. I think she’s a
smart-ass.”
Sam looked back at
Josh for a second. “Let me ask you something.” Josh nodded and Sam continued.
“Not to be… stereotypical, but does Mandy know about this new assistant of
yours?”
Josh got a confused
look on his face. “She just hired herself an hour ago. I haven’t talked to
Mandy today.”
“She hired herself?”
Sam asked slowly.
Josh grinned and
nodded. “Yeah. We walked around the office and argued
until I gave in. It was… entertaining.”
“Entertaining…”
“Why do you keep
repeating everything I say?”
“So you hired a very
young, very blonde, very beautiful, entertaining woman to be your new
assistant. Does she have any qualifications?”
Josh smiled. “None
that I can see, so I’m just gonna tell her all bosses
are like me.”
“And you don’t see
this as a problem?”
Josh furrowed his
brow. “Why would it be a problem? We’re not paying her.”
“We’re not?”
“Nah, she’s a
volunteer. And she needs the chance. Some gomer
dumped her after she paid his way through medical school. He’s clearly he’s an
idiot.”
“He is...”
“Yeah, she’s… I don’t
know... funny. And smart. And she’s from
Sam shook his head
and laughed before leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. “Yeah, this
isn’t gonna be a problem at all.”