this would never happen to lex luthor (musesfool) wrote in axial_tilt, @ 2008-03-19 10:34:00 |
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Current mood: | pleased |
fic: Institutional Memory (West Wing; Josh/Donna; g)
title: Institutional Memory
author: victoria p. [musesfool]
summary: "I'm the Chief of Staff, Donna. I don't fetch your coffee." "Yeah, you do."
fandom: The West Wing
pairing: Josh/Donna
rating: g
notes: Thanks to luzdeestrellas for looking it over. Written for patchfire in the 2008 axial_tilt exchange.
word count: 808 words
~*~
Institutional Memory
"Your hands are cold," Josh says, but he doesn't let go of her hand. Donna bites back a smile and opens her mouth to speak, but he continues, "and if you say 'cold hands, warm heart,' one more time, I may have to hurt you."
One of the great things about being with Josh is how well they know each other. Of course, one of the most annoying things about being with Josh is how well they know each other.
"At least my palms aren't sweaty."
"Hey, it's very possible I have a condition that causes that."
Donna laughs. "Being neurotic?"
"I was gonna say overactive sweat glands."
"'Cause that's so much more attractive."
"You're still here, aren't you?"
"Maybe I like sweaty, neurotic guys."
"Donna." There's that little nervous whine to his voice that always sparks something inside of her, and years of responding to it have only made it worse. Possibly, she's a little warped.
"You always did say I had terrible taste in men." She grins and instead of answering her--because he knows there's no good answer to that--he kisses her, quick brush of lips and breath that tastes like coffee.
They try not to engage in public displays of affection, even though everyone knows they're a couple now (a power couple, according to the Washington Post, second only to the President and Mrs. Santos, and Donna choked on her chai the first time she saw that in print; Josh preened, of course), and she's always aware of the rumors swirling about them, how she was sleeping with him when she was still his assistant, how that's the only reason she's ever gotten a job in Washington, how he'll ditch her when she's not young and perky anymore.
She tries not to let it get to her. She knows how much it pisses Josh off, and everyone else, as well. During President Bartlet's reelection campaign, Toby once subjected a gossipmonger to a fifteen minute harangue after the man had made insinuations about Donna's qualifications, or lack thereof. She knows she's always going to have to fight those rumors, the whispered accusations that she doesn't deserve the position she's earned; CJ calls her sometimes to commiserate, and even Amy Gardner called her once, and they'd muddled through an awkward ten minute conversation she never wants to repeat again. Josh had stared at her in disbelief for a full minute when she'd told him, and then laughed for a good long while.
They reach the entrance to the West Wing, and Michael waves them through security. Josh goes right and Donna turns with him, still used to heading towards the West Wing, even now.
"I know you can't bear to be without me for long," he says, pointing towards the East Wing, "but your office is that way."
"Shut up, Josh." She kisses him softly. "Don't forget you have the thing at eleven, and bring me a mochaccino when you get back."
"I'm the Chief of Staff now, Donna. I don't fetch your coffee."
"Yeah, you do."
He sighs and kisses her again. "Yeah, I do."
She turns and heads down the long gallery towards the East Wing. She loves working for the First Lady--Helen--but she still automatically thinks of Mrs. Bartlet as the First Lady, and of President Bartlet as the president. Eight years is a long time. She'll get used to it, though. Change is the only constant, and she's good at changing, has learned how to change and still keep hold of what's important.
There are so many new faces, though she knows a lot of people from the campaign, and at the end of the day, it's her and Josh and Sam, and that will always feel like home.
She says hello to the assistants as they file in, young and eager to start the day, and she knows they look at her and see the future, a path they can follow, the way she looks at them and sees her past.
The morning speeds by in a flurry of meetings and phone calls, fires to be put out and egos to be managed. She frowns down at her calendar, wondering when her hour for dinner disappeared, whether she's going to get home before eleven tonight, and how she ended up with two meetings in two separate locations at the same time.
"I can't be in two places at once," she announces as she enters her office, expecting her assistant to be there.
"That's a shame," Josh says, "because I can think of some really fun things we could do with that kind of talent." He's sitting at her desk, drinking her mochaccino. He looks at his watch and gives her a blinding grin. "I have eighteen minutes for lunch."
She grins back and grabs her coat. "Let's go."
end
~*~