The Question
NOTES:
Author: Yana
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Absolutely, totally, not my characters.
She knew Bonnie wasn't taking her completely seriously, but couldn't wholly blame her as the entire discussion was an exercise in self-pity.
No, she blamed the holiday season, with its happy, merry...
"Maybe you're a bad kisser," Bonnie suggested.
Which wasn't to say, of course, that Bonnie wasn't completely, totally, utterly wrong.
"I am not a bad kisser!" Donna protested hotly.
"Maybe you're not as good as you think you are."
"I happen to be," she searched for an appropriate adjective, "a pretty decent kisser!"
The only thing worse than Bonnie teasing her would be for Josh to choose this particular moment to return from his meeting.
Which, of course, he did.
His office door swung inward and there he was, standing in the doorway, a smirk on his face.
"A pretty decent kisser?" he repeated.
Donna rose to her feet and came around to the front of his desk. Bonnie had also risen, and seemed to be smothering a laugh and looking guilty at the same time.
"Why," Josh continued, "do the really interesting conversations only happen in my office while I'm away?"
"Josh," Bonnie began. "We were just..."
"Bonnie!" Donna cut her off.
"Discussing what kind of kisser Donna thinks she is," Josh finished pleasantly. "Yes, I heard. In fact, I could hear that quite clearly out in the hall."
Donna and Bonnie both winced, and Bonnie excused herself hastily.
Josh shut the door behind her and Donna braced herself. His smirk didn't budge. "I think this is the part where I administer discipline."
She rolled her eyes and changed the subject. "You're in fine form. How did the meeting go?" She began to tidy the files on his desk, keeping her head down.
"Fine. So you're a pretty decent kisser, are you?"
She tried to keep from blushing but failed, so she went on the offensive. "That was a private conversation."
"A conversation I could hear in the hall," he repeated, looking at her significantly.
She met his gaze and realized what he meant. "You heard."
"Yes."
"Everything."
"Yes."
"The whole conversation, not just..."
"Yes."
"You stood out there and deliberately eavesdropped..."
"Well, I had to pick the perfect entrance line."
"Oh, god." She blushed even harder. "I have to go," she gestured at the door, "and kill myself."
She had her hand on the doorknob when he spoke next.
"I know why," he said.
She turned. "Why..." She collected herself, not wanting to give anything away, in case he had been bluffing. "You want to shed some light on the subject Bonnie and I were discussing?"
He nodded, leaning back comfortably against the edge of his desk and crossing his arms. "It was right there in your answer. You consider yourself a 'pretty decent' kisser."
She frowned.
"That's a lukewarm recommendation at best," he observed smugly.
"You're telling me that's the reason?" she asked, irritated. "Bonnie was right?"
"No, Bonnie wasn't right," he corrected her.
"But 'pretty decent' isn't good enough, is that what you're saying?" she snapped, not liking what he seemed to be implying. "People who are really good--like you, perhaps?-- are guaranteed to...while I'm guaranteed not to..." She broke off, gritted her teeth, then started again. "So you're saying I haven't met the right guy yet. A guy who would inspire me to..."
"Two things," he interrupted her. "First of all, I am not a 'really good' kisser. I am one of the greats, Donna. I am a first class, blue ribbon, premium grade--one might even say spectacular--kisser." He pushed off his desk and came toward her.
She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and watched him come closer.
"And second," he continued, coming to stand directly in front of her. "You have met the right guy."
His lips found hers and captured them.
Minutes passed.
When they broke apart, they were both breathing heavily.
"You're a lot better than pretty decent," he gasped, resting his forehead against hers.
"I can hold my own," she panted.
"And you should feel free to hold minemmmph..."
"Okay," he groaned a few minutes later. "You have to leave this office right now, before I do something unprofessional to you up against the door."
"Unprofessional?" she grinned. "From what I've seen today, you could definitely do this professionammmph..."
"Leave," he ground out a few moments later. "We'll finish this discussion after work."
She could tell he was trying to switch back into 'work' mode and let him back away from her. They straightened their clothes and she wiped the lipstick off his face with her fingertips.
"You want the NEA file?" she asked.
"Yeah," he answered. "Just give me a few minutes to...y'know...ensure that I retain my amateur status."
She snickered. "And maybe later you'll answer a few more questions for me?"
"You have only to ask, Donnatella."
THE END