Spoilers: Noel, and anything prior is fair game.

Archive: Thanks to Jenny and Ruth for giving my stories a permanent home at 'Jenny's West Wing Fan Fiction Archive' and 'Banana Bars and Broken Chairs: A West Wing Love Story', respectively.

Rating: PG-13. There's some language, but nothing you wouldn't hear on the show.

Synopsis: The West Wing machine swings into action. Josh seeks the President's blessing.

Series: This story is eighth in the 'Rocky Path' series. Chronologically, it picks up where 'Damage Control' left off.

Series So Far:

Synopsis: Donna's secrets come back to haunt her, and she and Josh are faced with a decision.

One More Note: I'm interested in hearing what you think about the Wilborn character. Feedback much appreciated.

Damage Control 1/5

By Lacy

 I watch her replace several books on the shelves in my office, her arms stretching as she attempts to reach the top shelf. I really should offer assistance, but the truth is I like watching her try to do it herself. She takes my breath away.

She moves about my office and my eyes follow her. She knows that I am watching, and she knows what I am feeling right now.

As she leaves she tosses a glance over her shoulder, her hair floating around her like an angel. She speaks to me without words and I know what she is saying.

Garters. She is wearing garters today. If I play my cards right, I just might get lucky tonight.

"Donna!" I call.

"What?" She shouts back.

"Come here."

"What is it, Joshua?"

"Just...come here," she reduces me to begging.

"You know, Joshua, you can be very infuriating sometimes."

"You love it."

"You wish. What do you want, Josh?"

"You," I say. I've lowered my voice so only she can hear me. "Do you have plans tonight?"

"I think you know the answer to that."

"Have dinner with me."

"Are you insane?" She is worried about being seen with me. Normally, my ego might find this vaguely insulting, but in our circumstance I know that she is right.

"Not the last time I checked," I answer. "C'mon, Donna. I know this great Thai place. It's out of the way. No one we know will see us." I examine her face for indecision. Her head tilts slightly to the side and her eyes narrow just a bit. She is thinking about it.

Donnatella Moss is an amazing woman. She is a woman that deserves more than I can give her, and yet she has chosen me. I am not sure if I will ever understand why. Donna Moss is a woman that deserves to be treated like the goddess she is. She should be wined and dined. She should be wooed.

"I guess dinner would be okay," she says. "If you're sure."

"I am." I say.

"Okay, then. What time?"

"Seven?"

She shakes her head. "You've got a meeting with Patrick from Justice."

"Right. Eight-thirty?" I try again.

She smiles and nods. I am going out on a date with Donnatella Moss. My stomach does flip flops. I feel like a schoolboy in her presence.

"Okay," I affirm. She slips out of my office and back to her desk. Now, I must return to my work and try not think about her. Fat chance.

The day crawls at a snails' pace. Every now and then I catch Donna's eyes, and I know that we are both counting the minutes until we can be together. She is excited. I can feel her excitement bubbling just under the surface.

I cannot stop my head from spinning. I think about how I will take her out to dinner tonight. I also think about the things I will do to her when we get home.

Home.

I have begun to think of my home as hers. My home is not a home without her. I am not at home unless I wake up with her arms around me. This is where my thoughts lead.

She does it too. She refers to my home as hers. I wonder if she even remembers that she is paying rent on another apartment.

"Josh?" she interrupts my thoughts.

"Yeah," I say.

"Did you get the thing on the Ballistics rider?"

"Got it."

"Just checking."

"Okay."

"Donna?" She turns to face me. "You can go home now."

She does not expect this. "Josh?"

"Seriously, Donna. You can go home. I'll swing by and pick you up at eight-thirty. Dress up."

She smiles, and I know we are thinking the same thing. When I said 'home', we were both thinking about my place.

"Okay," she says. "Whatever you say, boss." She wastes no time gathering her things and vanishing from the bullpen.

Without her in the office, I am able to concentrate much better. I do not know what that means for our relationship, but I am sure that it does not bode well.

Patrick shows up at precisely seven o'clock, and our meeting does not last as long we planned. We shake hands and I show him out of the office. I am running forty-five minutes ahead of schedule.

I pick up the phone and dial the Thai place I told Donna about. I want to make sure we will get a good table. Then I call Donna.

She waits until my machine picks up before she answers the phone.

"Donna, it's me--"

"I'm here," she says.

"I'm running a little bit early," I tell her.

"I can be ready in a few minutes."

"Great. I'll be there."

I race to my apartment to meet her and she is opening the door before I have the chance to find my key.

"Hey," she says. I love the way her voice sounds when she says that.

"Hey, right back." She is wearing a magnificent purple dress that comes just down to her knees. The dress is low cut, and I do not think I have ever seen her wear it before. I think if I had, I would remember.

I close the door behind me and before I can think twice, she is in my arms. She kisses me with abandon and my hands turn into fists as I fight to keep from tearing her clothes off.

Our mouths separate, and our breath is coming hard and fast. I kiss her again, because her lips taunt me until I give in.

"Dinner, Josh," she reminds me between kisses. Occasionally, she has to do that -- help keep me focused. She is very good at it. It is one of her wide and varied talents.

"Right," I say weakly. "Dinner."

****

Donna decides that we should park a few blocks away from the restaurant and walk the rest of the way. I think she is looking for an excuse to hold my hand. She does not need one. I would hold her hand anytime she wanted.

We walk in silence, our hands clutched tightly to each other. The weather is brisk, but not too cold. I put my arm around her anyway.

When we arrive at the restaurant, the maitre 'd escorts us to a table in the back. We are assured the utmost privacy. 'Thai Gardens' is beautifully appointed with a red and gold decor, and Donna comments favorably on the atmosphere.

We order dinner and talk quietly until it arrives, discussing everything from work to our personal trials. I say something funny -- I do not know what -- and she laughs. Her laughter causes my heart to flutter.

I think -- I will love this woman forever. I love everything about her. I love the way she handles a crisis and the way she tosses her hair when she is flirting. I love it when she tries to get something she wants from me. I love it when she asks for a raise.

I think -- 'Does she know that the very thought of her drives me wild? Does she know that she makes me feel like I can conquer anything? Does she know that when I envision my future she is in it?

I have heard others describe her as 'quirky'. I examine her across the table and try to see what they see. She is not quirky, she is enigmatic -- and yet, I know her. She allows me to know her. I thank God for that.

My hand reaches for hers on the table and she accepts it. She caresses the back of my hand with her thumb and all I can think about is getting her home.

TBC

****