NOTES:
Author: Yana
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Minor, through Season Three
Disclaimer: Really, totally not my characters. Just my
ideas.
Archive: SotU, yes. Others please ask.
AN: I’ve terribly abused some fallacies about mid-life
crises in this story. Please ignore those parts.
AN2: Please note also that this story was written very,
very quickly. Some might say too quickly. :)
“JOSH!”
“What?”
“It’s time!”
He swung into his office, grabbing the sides of the door frame to lean into the room. “Please don’t make me go.”
Donna didn’t look up from her files. “’Tis not I, Joshua.”
“And...don’t talk like that. It’s annoying.”
“Go make the President happy, Josh.” She rounded his desk and brushed by him out of the office.
He sighed. “There’s nothing I can do here?”
“Go, Josh. You’re late.”
He looked at his watch and frowned. “Damn.”
She ignored him, sorting and stacking files on her desk. He stood there and watched her for a minute.
“Hey, Donna...”
“The sooner you go, the sooner you can leave.”
“What did you get me?”
“A night off.”
“See, that doesn’t sound like a present for me, that sounds like a present for you.”
She turned and looked at him. “Keep this up and you’ll wish I hadn’t hung around.”
He pulled the files away from her and put them on the desk. “You’re coming with me.” He propelled her forward with a hand on the small of her back.
“Oh, Josh, no. I had plans.”
“This won’t take long.”
“Sure it will...” she wailed.
“If you don’t come, he’ll ask where you are. Besides, you didn’t get me a present.”
She pouted halfheartedly, but let him guide her down the hall.
They arrived at the Oval Office just as the President stuck his head out the door. “Ah, there’s the birthday boy.”
Josh tried to cover his wince. “Yes sir.”
“Donna!”
“Yes sir.”
“Glad you’re here. You come too.”
“Thank you sir.” She glared at Josh as they followed the President in.
“Drink, Josh?” The President headed to the decanter.
“Sure.”
“Donna?”
“No thank you, Mr. President.”
“It’s awfully good Scotch,” he said, raising his eyebrows.
“Then maybe I will try a bit, sir.”
He chuckled as he poured her a glass. “I love that I can do that.”
“We love that you can do that too, Mr. President.”
“Donna, was that backtalk?”
“Yes sir.”
“Shame. I notice you don’t raise your hand in the Oval Office anymore, either.”
“No sir. Thank you sir.” She accepted the Scotch.
“I blame Josh’s influence.”
“So do I, Mr. President.” They exchanged smiles.
“Say, where is everybody?”
“I couldn’t say, sir.”
“Don’t they know that the sooner they get here, the sooner they can leave?”
Donna opened her mouth to point out that she’d told Josh exactly that, then thought better of it. “They must be busy, sir.”
The President noticed her slight hesitation and grinned knowingly. “That, you didn’t learn from Josh.”
Donna kept her mouth shut. Thankfully, he didn’t expect a response. Instead, he turned to Josh and started in on him.
“So, forty years old.”
“Yes sir.”
“It’s quite a milestone.”
“Yes sir.”
“You’re moving from brash youth to sober maturity.”
“Yes sir.”
“Donna, did you have something to add?”
“No sir.” She shook her head.
“It sounded a bit like you snorted, there.”
“Maybe something stuck in my throat.”
He looked at her sharply. “Don’t mock your elders.”
“No sir.”
She was saved from further attention by a knock on the COS door. Leo stuck his head in.
“If you have a moment, Mr. President?”
“Yes, Leo, of course. Come in.”
Leo was followed by the rest of the senior staff, each chorusing some version of “Good evening Mr. President.”
“Good evening, all of you. Have a seat. Drink, Toby?”
The President ensured that everyone but Leo accepted a glass of Scotch from him, handing his Chief of Staff a glass of water without comment.
“So.” He took up a position in front of his desk. “We’re taking some time out of our busy day to celebrate the birth of our friend Josh Lyman. Josh, it’s been forty years.”
“Yes sir.”
“You learn anything useful yet?”
Josh paused. “Nothing worth mentioning, sir.”
“A very safe reply, Josh. Apparently you have learned something.” President Bartlet grinned. “But in honour of your birthday, rather than reminding you that it is my prerogative to decide whether you’ve learned anything worth mentioning, let me refer the question out to your colleagues. Sam.”
“Yes sir.” Sam looked up, eyes wide.
“What has Josh learned since you’ve known him?”
“Ah...well...” A number of responses ran through Sam’s head -- the value of a good lawyer, the boundary between hard politics and dirty politics, why one shouldn’t piss off Elks or Rotarians-- none of which seemed appropriate.
Bartlet waited patiently. “Sam?”
“Well, since we are supposed to be honouring him, I’ll tell you he recruited me for Bartlet For America. So he must have learned the ability to spot the real thing.”
“Good answer, Sam. Though not terribly subtle. All right. CJ?”
CJ grinned at Josh, remembering the Mary Marsh fiasco, the Press Room fiasco, the LemonLyman fiasco. Not taking her eyes off him, she answered, “He’s learned just how far he can push me before I make his life a living hell.”
The President blinked. “I suppose that’s a valid skill. You are the Press Secretary.”
“Yes sir.”
“Toby?”
“What she said, sir.”
The President stifled a chuckle. “Leo?”
“He’s learned everything I could teach him, and more, Mr. President.” Leo turned to Josh. “You’re a fine political operative, Josh. Keep going as you are and in twenty years, you could be one of the most powerful men in the world.”
Josh swallowed and looked into Leo’s serious gaze. “Thank you.”
“Use it wisely, son.”
The President let the room fall silent for a moment, Leo’s words hanging in the air.
“Now, Leo,” he said a moment later. “Are you suggesting he could be President?”
“No, sir. I said he’d be powerful.”
“And what about...”
“We’re humouring you, sir.” Leo grinned.
“Congress isn’t.” Bartlet snorted. The others chuckled. “Well, Josh, I won’t add much to that. I’ll save my speech for your fiftieth birthday.” He grinned, Josh winced noticeably.
“Thank you sir.”
“You’re a fine Deputy Chief of Staff. Loyal, dedicated, and an asset to this administration. Most of the time.” He paused while the others grinned, then raised his glass. “Josh. Here’s to you, your life, your career. Happy fortieth birthday. You’ll find your time is just beginning.”
The others raised their glasses, adding their “Happy birthdays” to the President’s.
And then it was over. Leo stood and said, “All right, people, back to work,” and the Senior staff drained their glasses and filed out, wishing Josh well as they left.
Josh swirled his glass thoughtfully as they left. Donna stood too, intending to follow the Senior staff’s example and leave Josh at the mercy of the President, but Bartlet called her back.
“Donna!”
“Yes sir.”
“I didn’t ask you what Josh has learned since you’ve known him.”
“No sir.”
“I forgot, I’m sorry. Let me ask the question now.”
Donna gave him a wry smile. “I suppose it’s too late to jump on CJ’s answer.”
“Way too late. Well?”
She grinned. “He’s learned the benefit of having an assistant. And he knows to trust his instincts when it comes to people.”
“People, as in people who might show up and try to talk their way into a job?”
“Yes sir.”
“And you’re still here. I suppose that counts for something, too.”
“It does, sir.”
“Okay. You’re off the hook. Make Josh take you someplace nice for his birthday.”
“Hey!” Josh spoke up. Donna grinned at him.
“She’s more precious than gold, Josh. Treat her right and she’ll never leave you.”
Josh smirked. “One can only hope.”
“Mrs. Landingham was with me for years.” The President’s gaze suddenly fixed on him.
Josh cleared his throat, realising that the President was serious. “Yes sir.”
“Donna’s different, I know.” The President smiled briefly at her and she blushed. He turned back to Josh. “But you need her. So this is my gift. Keep Donna with you. Do whatever it takes to make her happy.”
Josh realised that some sort of response was required, but he could only come up with another “Yes sir.”
“After all, if you want to become a *powerful* man,” Bartlet recalled Leo’s comment. “You’ll need her help.”
“Yes sir.”
The President walked over to the door to show them out. “Or even if you just want to be President,” he chuckled.
“Yes sir.”
Bartlet opened the door. “Happy birthday, son.”
“Thank you sir.”
“Donna.”
“Good night sir.”
The door closed behind them and they were standing in the hall.
“Well,” Josh said.
“Well,” echoed Donna.
“That was...painful.” He started back to his office.
“Wait ‘til your fiftieth birthday,” Donna said, following him down the hall.
“Not even going there.”
“Leo was nice to you.”
“True.”
“Nobody else was, though.”
“Thanks for pointing that out, Donna,” he said briskly, rounding the corner to the bull pen.
“Except me.”
“You were not.”
“I said you have great instincts!”
“When it comes to you...that’s a bit self aggrandizing, don’t you think?”
“It still counts as one of your gifts.” She turned into her office and he followed.
“One of them? How many of these insubstantial tokens have I received? You got me a night off for you -”
“Which didn’t materialize, remember? I’m still here.”
He continued, ignoring her. “And I got the opportunity to hear you mock me in front of the President...”
“Well, to be fair, everyone gave you that gift.”
“What else could there possibly be?”
“My raise.”
“I’m giving you a raise for my birthday?”
“Josh. I passed up a perfect opportunity to bug the President for a perfectly reasonable, not to mention merited, salary increase. Apparently he thinks quite highly of me.”
“So you not hitting me up for more money in front of the President is a gift?”
“And also, for your birthday, you’re supposed to make me happy in every possible way.”
He sighed and slumped down in her chair. Gesturing wide with his arms, he called out to the bullpen in general. “Is there anyone who doesn’t want a piece of me today?”
Various replies floated back over the din. Donna bit back a teasing comment, patting his shoulder. “There, there. I’m going home. My work here is done.”
He grabbed his jacket. “I’ll take you. Apparently I’m supposed to do everything I can to make you happy.”
She smiled. “Excellent,” she said smugly.
“Don’t push your luck.”
*****
He was uncharacteristically silent on the drive back to her apartment. When he pulled up to her door, she decided to try and get him to talk.
“You want to come in? We could order food.”
He glanced at her. “Nah, I think I’ll just go.”
So much for the indirect approach, she thought. “Is something bothering you?” she asked.
“It’s just the birthday thing,” he grumbled quietly. “Go, enjoy your evening.”
“Come in. We’ll eat. I probably have a candle to stick on the pizza, you can make a wish and blow it out.”
“It sounds tempting, but...” He grimaced.
She thought for a second. “Is it the age thing?”
“What?”
“Whatever’s bothering you.You’re getting old...”
He raised his eyebrows. “Thanks, Donna, way to cheer a guy up.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. It’s not the age thing. At least, I don’t think so.” He turned to face forward again, pondering the idea.
“Oh, god.”
“What?”
“This isn’t your midlife crisis, is it?”
“No!”
“’Cause I wasn’t expecting that for a few more years.”
“It’s not a midlife crisis.”
“How do you know that?” Donna started to get agitated. “You’ve never had one. I’m not prepared!”
“It’s *not* my midlife -- what do you mean, prepared?”
“Research. Books. Seminars. Index cards. Everything I need to know about midlife crises but was afraid to ask!” She shook her head, visibly upset. “I should have known -- you’re an overachiever -- it was bound to come early!”
“Donna, relax. It’s not -- you’re quite freakishly organized -- and you don’t have to prepare--”
“Oh, Josh. I do.” She sat back in the car seat, letting herself sink against the headrest. “I’m the one who sees you day in and day out. You, in a permanent state of what-have-I-done-with-my-life?” She grunted in pain. “I need to be able to get you past that as quickly as possible!”
“For the last time, Donna, this is not a midlife crisis.” He took her shoulder and squeezed it. “And the way you know that is, if it was, I’d be driving a much better car.” He offered her a weak grin.
She was only slightly reassured. “What about the rest of it? What if you go on one of those stereotypical journeys to recapture the youth you never had?”
“That really doesn’t happen, Donna. It’s a myth.”
“Sure, you say that now, but I’m going to bear the brunt when you start sleeping with people who are completely inappropriate.” She adopted a falsetto. “Hi, is Josh there? Can I talk to Josh? Josh said he was going to call me...”
“That would never happen!” he protested.
“You don’t promise to call? You schmuck!” she snorted.
“Donna, please no Yiddish and...no. I’m a grown man. I’m not going to sleep with inappropriate people.”
“Anymore,” she muttered to herself, under her breath.
“Anymore,” he agreed. “Wait. What? Who...”
Donna started talking to cover the fact she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Y’know, you say that now, but next thing you know, you’ll be bringing the whole I-wasted-my-youth thing and end up in bed with some blonde, twenty-something floozy!”
He turned to look at her, struck by her forceful tone. She was suddenly, immediately, silent. Her fingers clenched her purse; the casual expression on her face seemed forced.
He squeezed her shoulder again and she couldn’t quite cover her flinch. “Donna...relax.” He used his most soothing tone. “Don’t worry. It’s not going to happen. Could you even see it? Me, chasing after some blonde, twenty-something...” He trailed off.
And realised what he was saying.
Donna sucked in a deep breath and turned to him. “No, I suppose not. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She opened the car door. “Happy birthday.”
And then she was gone.
“Donna, wait!” He shut off the engine and ran up the steps to where she was hastily fitting her key into the door.
“Josh...” She kept her head down, fumbling with the lock.
He put his hand over hers and she looked up. He studied her expression carefully, and she met him with a straightforward gaze.
His mouth found hers slowly, his lips savouring the feel of hers parting to return his kiss. His hands came up to cup her face; keys forgotten, her arms wound round his waist. He lost himself in the feel of her as she pulled him tight against her body. The kiss deepened, mouths fused.
When it finally ended, they broke apart. He took note of their position -- arms wrapped around each other, clinging, their faces close enough for their breath to mingle.
They looked at each other for a moment, then he grinned. “Have I figured out how to open my birthday present from the President?” He rested his forehead against hers and felt her frown.
“Hmm?”
“His gift was to tell me to make you happy.”
She smiled.
“So am I making you happy?”
She brushed her lips against his. “Come inside. I’ll decide there.”
“Okay,” he grinned.
As they went through the door, she looked back at him. “Oh, and Josh?”
“Yes.”
“I’m starting to think of some other birthday gifts I could give you, too.”
He put an arm around her waist as they went down the hall. “Excellent.”
*****
Shutting the door to her apartment with one arm, he reached for her with his other one. She came to him quickly and their lips moved together as they enjoyed a second kiss.
Suddenly he had a thought and pulled away.
“Donna -- you know this isn’t a mid-life crisis thing, right.”
She looked startled, as though she hadn’t considered that. “I didn’t think so, but...”
“This is an I-want-you,-Donna-Moss thing.”
“The President said...”
“Forget that. I want to make you happy. I always did. I’m just not sure how.”
She grinned and pulled him towards her. “I’ll give you some pointers.”
He didn’t let her kiss him. “Are you sure?”
She looked at him, cupping his cheek with her hand. “Are you?”
“Yeah.”
“Me too.”
His lips curved up. “Okay then.” He let her lead him to her room.
*****
Donna was a good kisser. He didn’t waste too much time wondering why, choosing instead to enjoy it.
She was also in a hurry. Pressing him up against her bedroom door, she peeled off his shirt quickly, her mouth never leaving his. He found himself sadly behind in undressing her; he had to break away almost forcefully so he could get her top off over her head. His hands slipped under the waistband of her pants and he slid them down as far as he could. She shimmied out of them the rest of the way and returned the favour, running her fingers along the firm flesh of his ass as she pulled down his trousers.
Getting free of them, he realised he needed to get them to the bed quickly. Her hand was inside his boxers, stroking his cock, and at the rate she was moving him along, he’d be finished before she started.
He grasped her hand and moved it away from his already painful erection, pulling her towards the bed. She broke away long enough to crawl over the bed to her nighttable to grab a condom, which she tossed back to him. Distracted by the sight of her on all fours, her backside arched up towards him as she rummaged in her drawer, he was impressed that he’d caught the condom at all.
But he wasn’t ready yet, he decided. He grabbed her ankles and yanked them towards him, so that she came off all fours and landed on her face on the bed. Immediately he climbed on top of her, not letting her get up, nibbling her ear, the sensitive spots on the back of her neck, while his hands undid the clasp of her bra. He slipped the straps off her arms one at a time, letting the friction of the fabric rub her nipples as he slowly drew the garment away.
Then he began kissing his way down her back. His hands were ahead of him, already slipping down the waistband of her panties, exposing the smooth skin to the open air. His lips roamed over the curves of her ass, caressing, stroking, nibbling. Sliding her panties off her legs, he kissed his way up over her calves, the backs of her knees, her thighs.
When his tongue slipped into the crease where her legs joined her ass, she whimpered. He moved away long enough to spread her legs and settle between them. When he lifted her hips, she arched her back in anticipation, giving him better access.
He buried his mouth between her legs and she screamed. One of his arms supported her raised hips as he tasted her, the other stretched up under her body to find her breast. She wriggled her upper body back and forth on his hand and he tweaked her nipple as it went by, eliciting moans from her. In the meantime, his tongue was opening her folds, tasting her crevices, her opening, her clit. She was very responsive; it didn’t take him long to figure out how she liked to be tongued.
He realised how close she was and focused his attention on her centre, wanting her to come quickly. He was sure that once he was inside her, he wouldn’t be able to make it last long enough. Her hips were squirming and wriggling and he did his best to give her what she wanted. Over and over his tongue rubbed her clit, circling, massaging, lapping. His lips closed around it, pressing it gently, and she screamed again. She came, whimpering over and over as the contractions racked her.
He didn’t give her time to recover. As quickly as he could he sheathed himself and laid down on top of her again. He whispered in her ear, making sure she was all right, and once she’d said yes he slipped his hands down to her hips again. Lifting them with one arm, supporting himself with the other, he thrust into her, all the way.
She cried out and he stayed where he was. “You okay?”
“Yes...” she breathed again.
He started to move and she moved with him, under him, keeping up with his rhythm. With every thrust, his mind reminded him that it was Donna he was pushing into, Donna writhing underneath him, Donna arching to accomodate his cock.
Donna clenching around him, holding him tight.
He realised he was whispering all this into her ear and she was moaning his name as she listened to him.
The sound of her voice spurred him on. His hips sped up, his thrusts gathering force as he pushed as deep into her as he possibly could. She squirmed a bit, reaching down with her arm, and he realised she was trying to get to her clit. Pausing briefly almost killed him, but he managed to lift her up onto her knees and readjust his grip so that he could stroke her properly.
She cried out his name as she came again and he held her hips, driving into her hard a few more times before falling over the edge himself.
They collapsed together on the bed and she flinched as he pulled himself out of her. Disposing of the condom as quickly as he could, he slipped back into her arms and drew her tight against him.
“Okay?”
She grinned sleepily. “Oh, more than okay.”
“Good.” He kissed her briefly, enjoying the sensation as she tangled her legs with his. Suddenly sleep was nearly upon him, too.
“Happy birthday.”
His eyes were starting to droop, but he wanted to make the moment last. “Birthday’s not over yet.”
“You can get the rest of your present later.”
He gave up the fight and began to drift off. “Okay.”
He could feel her smile. “Okay.”
“Happy...”
“Happy.”
THE END