Work Text:
This is going to take a long time
And I wonder what's mine
Can't take no more
Wonder if you'll understand
It's just the touch of your hand
Behind a closed door
All I needed was the love you gave
All I needed for another day
And all I ever knew
Only you
After quitting, she spent most of the afternoon curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around a throw pillow. She wondered how long it would even take for Josh to notice that she was really gone, that it hadn’t been an empty threat. Probably not that long, he had an afternoon meeting, and he would never find the file with the position paper on his own. Maybe she should- She pulled the emergency brake on that line of thought. No, he was a grown man, he could find his own damn files. He didn’t need her. And as it seemed, he didn’t want her, not really.
She thought he did. In Germany Josh looked at her like she was a miracle, like she was the foundation on which his world was built. When he joined the negotiations at Camp David, he took time out of his insane schedule to check in on her. Some days in her first weeks back home before she returned to the White House it seemed as if he had a physical need to make sure she was okay, rushing over to her apartment between meetings, always with a flimsy excuse. But then she returned to work, and he changed back to their normal report. Or rather, he pretended to change back to their normal report, to cover for the distance he kept from her. It had shocked her at first, but she played along. He had a lot on his plate, she rationalized. But when the warmth in his eyes didn’t really return, and the small touches they used to share stopped, she couldn’t take it anymore.
The truth made shame coil in her stomach, and she tried to avoid admitting her true reasons for leaving even to herself. Of course, every argument she had made to him about her career, her capacity for more was true. But those were feelings she had nursed for a long time, maybe even since the Stackhouse filibuster, when she for the first time felt that she had made a real and lasting difference on her own. She could have left years earlier, could have asked Ed and Larry if they needed her in legislative affairs, or Toby if he needed a new face on the research staff, hell even if Hoynes needed someone to do whatever at the OEOB. But she didn’t, because then she would have to give up the best part of her days. His smile when he said good morning, the hand at the small of her back as he ushered her out of his office, the number of different ways he said her name in the course of a day-
Her position as assistant to the Deputy Chief of Staff was something that could get her an interview with any number of organizations, policy institutes and congressional staffs inside the Beltway. That wouldn’t change if she went looking for a new job today, last year or in eleven months when they’d leave the White House anyway. If it hadn’t been for Josh’s distance, she would have stayed all the way through, until the end, savoring each and every day with him. Of course, she’d pester him for more responsibility, asking to take meetings on the Hill by herself, writing up drafts of policy changes to take to the president. And of course, the Josh she now missed fiercely, the old Josh, he would have said yes.
Hours later she was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her apartment was dark, only the streetlights outside casting shadows on the walls. She sighed and forced herself out of bed, putting on a sweatshirt as she began pacing in front of her bed. It was 1 am and Josh still hadn’t called, or texted, or emailed, or thrown snowballs at her window. He didn’t care. He didn’t care that she was gone, and she was angry with him and with herself for caring that he didn’t care. She deserved answers, and if he hadn’t had time to talk before, she’d make sure he took the time now. Grabbing her purse and checking that she still had the key to his place, she stalked out of the apartment.
She drove across town to his apartment in Georgetown, blasting the radio to distract her from the voice telling her this was the worst idea she had ever had. Maybe it was, but she refused to be sorry. She knew he’d be awake anyway, so it’s not like she’d wake him. And she couldn’t let him get away with throwing away their- whatever it was. She parked down the street from his house and jogged up the stairs. She let herself in with his keys and walked the two stairs up. Okay, maybe this was the worst idea she’d ever had. Maybe the worst idea in the history of bad ideas. Who in their right mind would show up at their former boss’s apartment after 1 am to yell at them? No one. But that was the thing, he wasn’t just her former boss. If he were, she’d never have this problem, the thought would have never crossed her mind. She shook her head, as if to shake off the annoying whispers that this won’t get her Josh back and knocked on his door.
He was still up, trying for the fifth time to read an infuriating op-ed in the day’s edition of the Washington Post he hadn’t had time, or mental capacity, for during the day when he heard a knock. It was Donna, he knew it the second he heard her knock again. Only Donna would come by his apartment in the middle of the night, only Donna had a key to his place and only Donna knocked like that. He’d heard her knock thousands of times, and every single time before this one it had warmed him a little. Because every time she knocked, he knew it would be followed by her sticking her head in and telling him he’d got an urgent call, or her standing outside his apartment with the files he’d forgotten at the office and takeaway containers from his favorite Chinese place. But this time it filled him with dread. He’d known she would come. He had hoped she would come, and he hated himself for it.
He opened the door on her third knock, hand scratching the back of his neck.
“Uh, hi.”
“Let’s talk,” she said, pushing past him without looking him in the eye. She looked tired, her face rosier than usual, but he couldn’t tell if it was because she had been crying or if it was because she was angry.
“How could you?!” she shouted, turning around to face him, but looking somewhere over his shoulder. Okay, so she was angry. She was very angry. He deserved it.
“How could I what, Donna?” he asked, closing the door behind him.
“Don’t-” she started, but trailed off with a sigh, bowing her head to look at the floor.
“Don’t what?” he prompted, ducking down to catch her eye. Her eyes met his for a fraction of a second before she turned around, wrapping her arms around her.
“Just answer the question Josh,” she whispered, her voice still laced with anger, but colored by the sadness he’d seen in her eyes. “How could you let me leave like that? How could you just- not care?”
“It was for the best.”
She whipped around, her face showing a mix of shock and anger. He knew it was the worst thing he could say, but that was the point. He couldn’t do anything but tell her the farthest thing from the truth, anything to get her to stop searching for the root cause of all of this.
“How dare you?”
“Donna, I-”
“Don’t-” she interrupted, “don’t say my name. I can’t- just- please, Josh.”
He stayed silent and looked out the living room window. The same window he’d put his hand through. And she had helped him. She had taken care of him then, and so many times before and after that and he just couldn’t-
“Why wouldn’t you talk to me?” she said, sitting down on the coffee table, glancing over at him. “All I wanted was for you to listen to me Josh, all I needed was-”
“Because-” he yelled, frustration evident in his voice, and a pleading look in his eyes, as if begging her to understand what he means without having to say anything. “Because, if I kept talking over you, I couldn’t hear you saying that you hated me for sending you to Gaza!”
“Josh-,” she began, her voice failing her. “You thought- you think I hate you?”
He turned away from her, his hand scratching at his neck again.
“You should, if you don’t. The things you’ve had to do- the things that have happened to you, all because of me-”
She was silent behind him, the only sound in the room was his labored breathing.
“Don-” he stopped himself and sighed before starting over. “It was for the best.”
It really was for the best. If she stayed near him, she’d get hurt, and he’d already proven that he couldn’t keep her safe. He had stayed with her in Germany, looked after her like a hawk when she’d returned, and when he knew she’d be fine, he’d pushed her away. He felt her trying to pull him back in, but he couldn’t let her. So, he pushed harder. A month after she had returned to work, he was sure she knew they were both playing charades, like the high school play version of themselves. Saying the right things, teasing at times, but not with any real feeling behind it. Sometimes they slipped into their old ways. It was second nature to him, waltzing around Donna in her cubicle, trying to seem like he wasn’t listening to her every word when she tried to convince him of her new idea that at first seemed out there, and then, always, like the most obvious thing in the world. He was at his best when she was his sounding board, when she was his inspiration. But he had sacrificed that for her sake.
“The best part of my day today,” she said, and he looked over at her, “was when we had breakfast and sang in your office this morning, before the phone rang. Because for a second I could pretend everything was like before, and that you-”
“That I what?”
She looked him in the eyes properly for the first time since she’d quit before answering. “That you wanted me there, that you liked me.”
He couldn’t do it, he realized. He couldn’t lie to her. If he let her leave thinking he didn’t- Her hating him wasn’t great, but it was what he needed. Her thinking that he didn’t care, that was something he couldn’t live with. His eyes didn’t leave hers, and the fear he saw in them he’d only seen once before, in an operating theatre in Germany.
“Of course, I did,” he said, and before he had time to second guess himself, he continued, “I do, like you, I mean.”
“Josh,” she sighed, a small smile fighting with a frown for dominance, and looked down, “then why push me away after Ga-, after… Germany?”
“It was the best part of my day too,” he said instead. “You always are.”
“I know,” she said. They had said things like that hundreds of times before, but they had always been teasing. This time she was dead serious. She felt him staring at her, but he stayed silent. She had to make him understand that she knew. That she knew what she meant to Josh, or at least that she meant more to him than an assistant should to their boss. That’s why it had hurt as much as it did, when their usual flirting, touching, nearness had stopped. She knew that Josh had liked her and had wanted to be near her and when she returned from Germany he no longer did.
“CJ told me about the NSC card,” she said after an uncomfortable silence.
“The- the what?”
She took a deep breath and continued.
“The card you got, and then returned, telling you where to go if, you know… the missiles start flying. She told me how bad you felt that no one else got one and that she saw you return it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“How long have you known? That was ages ago,” Josh asked curiously, and she avoided his gaze. “I’ll have you know, that’s some top secret stuff.” She rolled her eyes, of course he’d try to make a joke out of it instead of trying to understand what she really meant.
“She told me at GW after- when we were waiting during your- she came by between press conferences and at one point just started talking, probably to stop me from asking the nurse for updates,” she said and huffed out a laugh, “and Sam was there, and he told me you’d asked him what his relationship was with Ginger, and how you sort of- I don’t know, Sam said you spaced out for like half a second? When he said the Sam and Ginger relationship was like the Josh and Donna relationship? That’s when I knew.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“You know,” he began, and she glanced at him anxiously, holding her breath. Had he missed the point? Had she tried in her patented roundabout way lost him somewhere along the line? “That was the night the President made us all chili. Sam started believing in UFOs and CJ talked about that damn wolf, what was it called?”
“Prudie.”
“Yeah, Prudie, right. And the President talked about the women in the West Wing, how fantastic you all were, and when he said you name and I looked over at you laughing I- I felt the card burn a hole through my wallet, and I knew I couldn’t-”
Her heart raced, and she waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, she walked over to him, and nudged his knee with hers.
“Couldn’t what?”
“I knew I couldn’t leave you to get hurt, that I’d do everything I could to be there by your side if- if you know, the missiles start flying,” he said and looked over at her, his dimples beginning to show.
“Well,” she sighed, “you did you know. You dropped everything and flew halfway across the world for me. I know you liked me, and you apparently still do. So why-”
“Because people close to me do get hurt, okay? You got hurt, because I sent you to Gaza. Leo almost died and I didn’t even notice he was missing at first. The President was shot. Joanie-”
“Josh,” she interrupted, moving to stand in front of him, laying her hands on his shoulders. “None of those things were your fault, or things you could have stopped, okay? Look at me.”
He lifted his head and looked up at her. She had guessed that he hadn’t slept that much these last few months, but now she could really tell. He looked battle-worn and like he was tired all the way to the bone. The glint in his eye was missing, and in that moment, she wanted nothing in the world more than for it to come back.
“You, Joshua Lyman, are a good man, a great one even,” she said, and he smiled weakly at her, “some might even say the best.”
“Donna, I-”
“I’m not finished,” she stopped him and glared at him when he tried to continue, ignoring the flutter she felt in her chest when he said her name again. “You are the best man I know, and I know quite a few great men. One is even the President of the United States. You weren’t always a great boss, but you were always a great man. And it hurt so much when I felt like you no longer wanted me there, because all I wanted was to be where you were, and work was the only way either of us knew how and God, I sound so stupid now saying it out loud-”
She turned to leave, but his hands came up to grab at her forearms, still resting on his shoulders. She allowed herself to relax into him slightly, she could let herself have this one moment.
“Donna-” he breathed, “I’m nothing compared to you. The best of me is a fraction of the best of you. You’re-”
He didn’t know how to continue. She was like a million things. Like winning a Senate vote, or an election. She was like the first day of spring, bright and warm. She was like his favorite library, safe and full of unexplored ideas. When she looked at him, he knew there was nothing he couldn’t do. The implicit trust she had in him was the most valuable thing in his life, and he tried to ignore the sting he felt when he realized he’d almost broken it. She was the most beautiful person he’d ever met, and he was sure he’d never meet anyone like her.
“-everything.”
She stood still between his legs, her arms still resting on his shoulders, and stared down at him. Her hair fell down like a curtain on the side of her face, and he gently tucked it back behind her ear. She said nothing but leaned into his touch when he lingered on her cheek.
“I would have quit after the second inauguration if you hadn’t been there,” he said. “I thought about it, it just didn’t feel quite the same, not really. Mentally I had started to check out, the campaign had me energized and then we came back, and I just felt like we had barely moved an inch. And then Sam left. But then there you were, wearing my coat, standing outside your apartment, the most beautiful I’d ever seen you and I knew I couldn’t give it up. Not as long as you stayed.”
“So, you’re saying we both could have quit almost three years ago if we hadn’t had our heads up our asses and stayed for each other?”
“Well, if we had I could have done this much sooner,” he whispered and tilted his face up towards hers, searching her eyes, looking for a sign he’d read this all wrong. “Donna, is it alright if I kiss you?” he mumbled, his breath ghosting across her cheek. Her eyes widened and he wondered how she could be surprised after all they’d just said. But then again, he wouldn’t believe she’d want to kiss him if the roles were reversed.
A breathless nod told him everything he needed to know, and he trailed his hands up her arms as he leaned in even closer. Being this close to her was overwhelming his senses, but for the first time in many years he was overwhelmed in a good way. When his lips finally touched hers, the release of years of pent-up emotion made him tearful. His hands came up to cradle her face, and he let his thumb stroke gently across her cheekbone, something he must have thought of doing a million times before. He tried to pour everything he’d said, and more he hadn’t had the courage to, into the kiss. When they broke apart, she rested her forehead against his, eyes closed.
“That was, uh, that was nice.”
“Really eloquent Joshua,” she laughed, and he couldn’t help but laugh with her. He snuck his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. “But yeah, it was.”
“I mean it,” he mumbled into her neck, “you’re everything. You’re all I need, Donna.”
He adjusted his grip on her and places one hand to rest at the small of her back. These last few weeks he had to stop himself from reaching out to her more times than he could count. No touching her shoulder, no bumping her hip with his, and no guiding her through the West wing with his hand softly resting at her elbow.
“I’ve missed this,” she said and leaned into his touch, and not for the first time he wondered if she could read his mind. “Now, could we just- sleep?”
They brushed their teeth in silence, eyes meeting in the mirror. Josh looked softer than he had for a long time, his eyes warm and once again being the open doors to his mind she was used to. He was back to the Josh she’d seen in Germany, that she’d seen at the second inauguration, and in his office when she told him she’d been in a car accident.
She pilfered a t-shirt of his from his laundry pile to sleep in, answering with a shrug when he sent her a questioning look. The pajamas she’d worn when she came wasn’t as comforting as it had been when she had changed into them hours earlier. And more importantly, his worn Harvard t-shirt smelled like him.
“Is it okay if we-”, Josh asked and made a sweeping gesture at his unmade bed. “I don’t want to assume-”
“I wouldn’t be okay with anything else,” she answered, and sat down, leaning against the headboard. Suddenly she had been hit with a wave of insecurity, maybe he had been looking for an out? Before she dared to ask, he got in next to her, lying down on his side. He reached out to run his hand down her arm, linking their fingers together. She shuffled down under the covers and faced him.
“I really am sorry.”
“So am I.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
They drifted closer together, and for what improbably enough was only the second time, they shared a soft kiss. When they broke apart, she rested her head on his chest, and he held her close. She tried to resist sleep, but she couldn’t deny she hadn’t been this relaxed in months. They still had many long and hard conversations ahead of them, but at least now they had finally said out loud what they’d both known to be true deep down for years. The day had been one of the worst she could remember just a few hours ago, but when she slowly let herself fall asleep as he pressed kisses to her temple, she thought it might be the best of her life.