The Ramblings and Doings of an Insane and Desperate Man
Completed: In progress
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Post-ep to “The Cold” that’s going to take on a life of its own and fill the the weeks between the kiss and the sex
Author’s Notes: This is nothing but fluff. Fluffy fluff even. I won’t even pretend that there’s anything remotely serious about this fic, because that would be a lie and you’d know it upon reading the first two paragraphs. This is just my take on how Josh got back into Donna’s good graces after fumbling the key exchange.
I get up early the next morning. Not that I’d been asleep. Because how can you sleep when the woman you’ve wanted to sleep with for the better part of a decade gives you the key to her hotel room and you don’t go? What kind of rest is a man supposed to get after that kind of in-your-face proof that you’re not actually a man at all. A small, frightened boy… yes. A man… No.
And how are you supposed to sleep when the split second hesitation on your part (which of course wasn’t due to a lack of desire but instead to what you were hoping was stealth and secrecy) that caused you to miss said key continues playing in your mind over and over and over like the instant replay of the left fielder who misses the pop fly in the bottom of the ninth in the final game of the World Series, letting the runner on second score and giving the other team the win?
See what it’s come down to? Run-on sentences and the ramblings of an insane man…
I could go on of course. There are countless other things that will continue to plague me until my death. What was it about my feet that wouldn’t allow me to get up and follow her into the hotel? What was it about my mouth that didn’t tell Edie and Ronna to ‘give me the fucking key already?’ What was it about my fingers that couldn’t figure out how to call her cell or her room and explain the situation? Why did I just sit there, nursing my beer, listening to the idiots who work for me droll on and on about their first trip to the White House, wondering what in the hell had just happened?
But see, I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to point out to myself that my idiocy last night was reminiscent of a really bad television show whose only goal is to keep the hero from getting the heroine, regardless of what unrealistic and ridiculous lengths they have to go to in order to do so. I’m not going to do that at all. I’m simply going to repair the damage and move forward.
So… as I said, I get up early the next morning. Early, early. Not pansy-ass early. Not six o’clock or even five o’clock early. No. We’re talking 4:30 early my friends. 4:30am. Why, you ask? Because the cars are coming to the hotel at 5:30 to take us to the airport so we can fly to California and make something of this national tie we’ve got going. And I… master romancer and putty in the hands of one Donnatella Moss, am going to get Donna her very favorite coffee from her very favorite coffee shop for the trip.
So I get up, I rush through a shower and throw on a fairly clean suit, throw the remainder of my belongings into my suitcase in random order, and head downstairs to catch a cab to Becky’s Café, on nearly the exact opposite end of the district from the hotel.
I hit my first roadblock of this mission upon arriving to the café and finding that it doesn’t open until 5:30. No matter, I anticipated such challenges and am ready to beg if need be. It turns out need does be and I completely luck out that two of the young female employees are hard-core democrats and possible members of my fan club. An autograph and a few pictures later, they agree to help me.
So at 5:05am, I leave the café with a large cup of their house dark roast of the day and two incredible looking honey croissants that I was assured would win the heart of any woman. It’s not until I’m on my way back to the hotel when my lack of sleep starts catching up with me and it occurs to me that I should’ve gotten myself a cup of coffee as well. Now, I’m not proud of this, but it takes only a few minutes to talk myself into having just a sip of Donna’s, which is when I learn that Becky’s Café does indeed have the best coffee in DC. And it’s only a few minutes after that when I decide that Donna really only needs one croissant. She is, after all, very cautious of her figure.
I arrive back at the hotel with eight minutes to spare, and find Donna in the continental breakfast area sitting with Lou and Ronna. I fight the urge to give Ronna an evil look and head their way.
Now this is tricky. I can’t very well apologize for last night’s blunder in front of these two, but I also can’t wait all day to give her the coffee and croissant. It’s not gonna have the same meaning at four o’clock this afternoon, you know what I mean?
So I act casual. As if I do these, dare I say heroic, things every day. I plaster on a smile and say good morning to Bram and Otto at another table, then walk up to Donna’s table and say good morning to them as I prepare to set the coffee and bag down in front of her.
Ronna looks at Donna and says, “He’ll know,” then looks up at me and asks me if the Mets played last night.
This stops me and talk of baseball distracts me from the moment at hand. Donna wants to know if the Mets played last night? I look at her a little strangely. The Mets lost in the playoffs two weeks ago. Why is she bringing it up now? It’s not like she planned to watch the Mets game last night; she planned to have sex with me. Right? I mean, I’m understanding that correctly, right? She wasn’t inviting me up to watch…
Oh…. My…. God…
Donna thinks I skipped out on sex with her to watch the Mets play????? I mean… I love the Mets, but we’re talking about sex here. And not just any sex. Sex with Donna sex. Maybe if it were sex with someone else. Or maybe if it was sex with Donna but it was the World Series… no, I don’t think so, not even the World Series. Well, maybe the final game of the world series… Snap out of it Josh. “No, they didn’t play last night.”
“Just wondering,” Donna says weakly with a look of mortification on her face. Has she ever seen herself in the mirror? She really thought… shit, this is going to take more than a cup of coffee and a croissant.
“I didn’t…” I pause and put the coffee down, then turn and pull up a chair from another table, wedging it in between Donna and Ronna. It doesn’t actually fit, so I have to pause and actually push Ronna’s chair, with her it in, out of the way a little bit to make room for myself. Ronna gives me a look and laughs at my audacity, but I ignore her and sit down, looking pointedly at Donna. “I didn’t watch any television last night.”
She gives me a look that says that statement didn’t help at all and suddenly I’m a schmuck who didn’t have anything better to do and still didn’t take the key. “That’s too bad,” she says flippantly. “ER was fanta…” she trails off as she notices the coffee cup. Shit. I forgot about that. “You went to Becky’s?” she asks in a tiny voice.
“Yeah,” I say, pushing the cup towards her. Then I go to get the bag with the croissant, but it’s gone. I look on the table, on the floor by my feet, inconspicuously down at Ronna’s lap… Finally I turn around and see that I left it on the table I took the chair from. I pick it up and put it down in front of her. “Here.”
“What’s Becky’s?” Ronna asks.
“Becky’s Café,” Donna says in awe as she opens the bag and looks inside of it. “It’s in
“It’s her favorite,” I say smugly.
“What were you doing up in
I look up at her like a deer caught in headlights. Shit. I glance at Ronna and Donna. They’re looking at me too. “I… I uh… had to do something.”
This is why I should never be asked to lie for my country. I absolutely suck at it. The upside is that Donna’s smiling a little bit. She knows why I was in
Donna takes the lid off the coffee, which makes no sense to me, but is, I’ve learned over the years, a Donna Moss thing. She loves the smell of good coffee and claims the lid gets in the way.
“You’re giving Donna your half-empty coffee?” Lou asks with a laugh.
What’s she talking about?
Donna pushes the coffee cup back to me. “Josh, you don’t have to give me your coffee.”
“I didn’t. I… it’s for you.”
“But…”
I follow her eyes down into the cup. Shit. “I might have had a little,” I say with a wince. I thought I just had a few sips, what the hell????
“You drank her coffee?”
I snap my head at Lou. “You’re not helping.” This isn’t good. I took a forty minute roundtrip cab ride to get her coffee and then drank almost half of it? I suck at this wooing crap. No wonder I don’t usually do it.
Lou continues laughing but stands up. “I’m taking my horrible but full coffee and waiting outside for the cars.”
Ronna leaves with her and the table grows quiet. I nudge the coffee cup and Donna finally takes a drink.
“How is it?” I ask hopefully.
She closes her eyes for just a second and says dreamily. “Delicious.”
This makes me smile and I nudge the bag next. “I brought you a croissant too.”
She smiles and pulls it out of the bag, then takes a bite and moans. Yes! “Don’t these usually come in two?” No.
“Do they?” I ask in a very guilty and squeaky voice.
She smiles slyly and takes another bite. She’s so on to me.