Platinum Blonde 1/3
By Lacy


Donna has the day off to meet with the real estate agent. This is the
second time they've met, and this time the woman has a few houses to
showcase. If it weren't for the paperwork on the ICP treaty changes
I'd be with her right now. That and the fact that it has to look like
my love life isn't getting in the way of my work.

How did this happen? How did our society reach the point where love
has to sacrifice to work? Whatever happened to the Pursuit of
Happiness?

Okay, I admit it. I'm getting a little maudlin. But she's not here
right now to cheer me up, and to remind me that being at the office
can be fun.

A rapping on the door steals my attention from the files. Toby's
leaning against the door jam.

"Yeah?"

"You met with Foreign Affairs?" he asks.

"Yes."

"How did it go?"

"I was my usual charming self," I smirk.

"Please, please, tell me you weren't," he begs.

"Everything's copasetic, Toby. I even managed to not get into an
argument. You'd have been very proud of me."

"I highly doubt that."

"The entire committee is on board with the changes. Everyone, for
once, believes that this is a good thing."

"It is a good thing," he asserts.

"You're getting no argument from me, Toby. You're not even getting an
argument from the Republicans on the committee."

"Will wonders never cease?" he deadpans.

Just then, Sam Seaborn pops his head through the door. "We ready?"
Sam directs his question at Toby.

"Ready for what?" I ask.

"Josh, do you have any more meetings today?" Toby inquires without
looking me in the eye.

"No." I sense that I'm about to be forced into one. "I was going to
spend the rest of the day working on the ICP."

"Get your coat," he instructs.

"Where are we going?" I look from Toby and then to Sam, neither of
them seems to want to make eye contact with me right now. "Is
something wrong?" A sudden fear washes over me. They're being very
close-mouthed and wanting me to go somewhere with them. "What is it?"

"It's nothing," Sam shrugs to put me at ease. "We just need to talk
to you outside of the building." His eyes dart about with his typical
paranoia, indicating that it's possible we're being watched.

"Oh," I agree in my best mocking tone. "I can't, guys. I've got a
ton of things to go over--"

"It can wait," Toby interrupts. "This can't. Let's go."

"What is going on?" I ask again.

"You'll find out." Toby's already standing a few feet from my office
waiting for me to catch up. "Nobody's going to tattle on you, Josh.
You're not going to be sent to the principal's office. Let's go."

Finally, I relent. Putting on my coat, I follow them, shutting my
office door on my way out. When we reach the parking lot, the three
of us pile into Sam's car.

This is driving me crazy. Sam keeps looking at me in the rearview
mirror. Something is definitely going on and it's starting to get
worrisome. After fifteen minutes in the car, I can take it no longer.
I open my mouth to speak, but Toby beats me to it.

"Josh, we're almost there. Sam, I think this is where you're supposed
to park."

"But I was going to try--"

"Park here, Sam."

"Fine." Sam pulls into a public parking lot and locates a space in
the back. "Okay," he says as he kills the ignition, "everybody out."
Sam even opens the door for me when he gets out of the car. I ask
you, how freaky is that?

I'm on the verge of tearing into them, but instead I only fall in step
behind. They say nothing, which is abnormal enough in itself, but
they also keep casting glances in my direction. I'm tempted to drop
behind and make a run for the car. I've never actually hot-wired a
vehicle before, but I've read detailed reports on the procedure. I
think I could do it.

The sidewalk feeds into a commercial street littered with shops of all
kinds. Souvenirs, clothes, house wares -- you name it, this street
has it. We walk for another half a block before I get fed up.

"Okay, very funny, guys. Is this some kind of a joke? Didn't you
forget to blindfold me and drive me around in circles?"

"This isn't a joke," Toby says. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

Toby wears the same put-upon expression he always wears.

"It's an intervention," Sam adds, his expression a sober one. He gets
this look on his face whenever he's given an assignment that he takes
very seriously.

"An intervention? What the hell is going on? Is this about the song
lyrics, Sam?"

"No," he answers. "I mean, that's got to stop, but that's not what
this is about."

"Clue me in," I demand. Toby's eyes wander over to the door of the
shop we're standing in front of, and my eyes follow.

Dominion Jewelers

"What's this about?" I ask, my eyes narrowing on the two men who
dragged me here against my will.

"It's time," Sam says.

"Time for what?"

"You know."

"Let's talk about this inside, gentlemen. It's cold out here." Toby
doesn't even look over his shoulder as he tugs on the store's front
door handle. Sam grabs my elbow and ushers me inside. I can hear the
bell tinkling gently over my head as we enter the jewelers.

"Time for what?" I ask again, this time lowering my voice. The
serenity of the shop seems to demand a more subdued behavior.

"It's time for an engagement ring," Sam supplies. "So pick one."

"Wait a minute. You planned an intervention so I would buy my
girlfriend an engagement ring?"

"We're just following orders," Toby replies.

"Orders? Who's…? Oh, I see." I'm finally catching on. "Let me
guess. The President?"

"Partially," Sam pipes up. "There are many performers in this drama.
We each have to play our role."

"Okay," I say. "That was a little melodramatic, even for you, Sam."

"Buy a ring, Josh," Toby interjects. "We're sick of waiting."

"When did you become Donna's alter egos? She's not pressuring me, why
should you?"

"Because Donna wouldn't dream of pressuring you, Josh. Somebody has
to do it in her stead," Sam answers.

I hate to admit it, but Sam has a point. Donna would never pressure
me about something like this. Many things pass through a given day
that Donna can pressure me about -- but this isn't one of them. In
fact, she's never pressured me about anything in regards to our
relationship. Unless you count the baby issue, but I don't.

"We've only been dating for six weeks," I feebly reply.

"You have history." They respond in unison and then glare over at
each other.

Okay, so they're two for two. I can hardly play the
we've-only-been-dating-for-six-weeks card and expect to get away with
it.

"Listen," Toby gets my attention. "What's dating all about, Josh?
It's about finding out if your relationship should be more. This, you
already know."

"Yeah," Sam chimes in. "Do you really want to waste any more time
than you already have?"

"No," I respond. Is that my voice sounding so weak?

"C'mon, Josh. Answer me this. Do you miss her when she's not with
you? Are you missing her now?"

"You have no idea."

"Does she have one of those looks that makes you want to lay the world
at her feet?"

"Oh, yeah. It's the one she gave me when I bought her that dress."

"Imagine the look you'll get when she sees the ring." Sam sure knows
how to bait a trap.

"I'm not sure we're ready."

"Trust us," Sam says. "You're ready. We're all ready."

Toby steps aside and leans over the glass jewelry cases, inspecting
their contents. He looks absorbed in them, but I know that he's
really tuned in to every word Sam says. Just in case he has to step
in to rescue the situation.

"Did you feel this way about Lisa when you bought her a ring?"

"No." He answers my question like I'm...well, the moron that I am.
"Lisa got a ring for a lot less. Obviously, I learned to live without
her. Do you honestly think you could live without Donna? Don't be a
dullard, Josh."

"Dullard? Did you just say dullard? I mean, did you use the word
'dullard' in an actual sentence?"

"Yes. It means--"

"I know what it means, Sam. Seven-sixty Verbal. What was yours
again?"

"Should I get a ruler?" Toby interrupts. "Look, this really isn't the
time for a round of I'll-show-you-mine-if-you-show-me-yours. We're
straying from the issue." And we all know how Toby hates it when we
stray from the issue. "Listen. You love her. You can't live without
her. Get the damn ring." A logic that's hard to resist.

I can always count on Toby to boil it down for me. He's so succinct.
A man of few words. It's hard to believe that he's the White House
Communications Director. On the other hand, it makes perfect sense.

So, why am I arguing with them? I'm being handled, that's why.
Instinctive opposition. I recall how that nearly got me into trouble
the last time. This is really becoming an issue with me. Maybe I
should discuss it with my therapist.

So, let's review, just for the sake of continuity, the things I've
learned over the last six weeks. I love her. This I know. I can't
live without her -- don't even want to try. She's the woman with whom
I'm supposed to have children. The more she controls me, the freer I
feel. She rejuvenates my mind, body, and spirit. I would walk
through the fires of hell (read that as 'subject myself to a press
conference') for her. Oh, yeah. Let's not forget the staggeringly
spectacular sex.

"Show me the rings."

TBC

****