Series So Far:

Time Table 1/3
By Lacy


Josh is so tied up with the latest Senate confirmation that we
haven't been able to spend any quality time together lately. You
know what I mean by 'quality' time, right? You're not going to make
me spell it out, are you?

Fine. Josh and I haven't had sex in over a week. A week! As in,
seven days. God, I'm becoming a dried up old hag. That's how I
feel, anyway.

For the last week, he's sent me home at ten, saying that he'll be
right behind me. I go home and wait, and then I wait some more. I
crawl into bed and end up falling asleep sometime around one in the
morning. Still waiting. He usually drags himself through the door
after three.

I know I'm being selfish. He's exhausted. I caught him napping at
his desk during lunch today, which normally wouldn't be a problem,
except that he was supposed to be having a lunch meeting on the Hill.

He's beginning to look haggard, in a way I haven't seen since
Christmas. So I am worried about him, and not just because he's not
giving me what I need.

And what I need is Josh.

I feel like everyone can see it, too. Like they can look in my eyes
and tell that we aren't...well, you know. You pay the price for
working at a place where keeping your eyes peeled, and making instant
judgment calls is second nature.

But that's not the real problem. The real problem is that it's begun
to affect my work. You see, the less I get it, the more I think
about it. It's pretty much all I think about. Even when I'm
answering phone or looking for research materials, it's always there
-- in the back of my mind. Trying to push its way to the front.

Things between Josh and I were just starting to get really, really
good, too. Okay. I can be more articulate than that. After all, I
work for, and sleep with a man who scored a 760 on the verbal section
of the SATs. And don't think he doesn't remind me of that on a near
daily basis. My point is that I learned a thing or two working for
Josh Lyman.

Wait a minute. That wasn't my point. Where was I?

See what I mean? My mind is running in circles and I need sex to
straighten it out. Not just any sex. Josh-sex. Oh, yes! That's
it. I was talking about how sex with Josh was starting to get
really, really good. Damn, I did it again. What I mean to say --
because I don't want to imply that sex with Josh didn't start out as
a mind-blowing experience -- is that we were just beginning to, you
know, experiment.

"Donna!"

My head snaps up from the folder I'm not actually reading. I was
doing it again, wasn't I? Drifting off. Thinking about things I
shouldn't think about because they, you know, 'affect the work',
which is absolutely prohibited.

"Donna? What's wrong with you? I've called you four times." Josh
strides out of his office. I think he was half-expecting to not find
me at my desk.

"Sorry, Josh. I was...absorbed in something else." He looks so
tired. His hair is mussed even more than usual, and if I didn't know
better I might think he's been wearing the same clothes for the last
three days. But of course, I know better. I actually watched him
dress this morning, and the poor guy looked like a zombie.

"Well, whatever it is can wait. I need you to talk to the Justice
Department and get Prescher's FBI file."

"I can't talk to Justice, Josh. I don't have the clearance."

"What? That's ridiculous."

"Well, that's what I've been saying for three years."

He places his hands on his hips, drops his chin to his chest, and
closes his eyes. He pauses so long that for a moment I'm afraid he's
fallen asleep standing up.

"Just get Randall on the phone for me. I'll put in the request."

"Sure," I answer, as I pick up the phone and dial the Justice
Department by memory.

"Thanks, Donna," he sighs.

My heart really does go out to him. The Administration is being
pressured to name a new Secretary to the Interior, and we're in the
final days of vetting the candidates on the short list. Prescher is
Josh's choice, so he's digging into the guy's life as deep as he can
get. He just wants to be sure that this doesn't come back and bite
him on the ass.

Because, you know that if Josh misses something, I'm going to get the
blame. Indirectly, at least. And nobody on the senior staff wants
that to happen.

So, we're in the final push stages. If everything turns out well
with the FBI files, then Josh and Leo will go to the President
tomorrow. After that, all that's left is to ask Wesley Prescher if
he's willing to serve.

Well, that and the actual confirmation by the ruling Senate body.
But if Josh and I have done our jobs well, then the confirmation
should sail.

"God! I can't wait for this to be over. I want to go back to our
normal incredibly hectic lifestyles. Okay, that was probably one too
many adjectives.

I'm sitting on the phone listening to it ring on the other end, when
Walter Randall's assistant answers the phone.

"Josh Lyman's office calling for Mr. Randall," I say.

"I'll transfer the call," the nondescript voice replies. I listen to
the click, and the ring before Randall answers.

"Walter Randall."

"Hi, Walt, it's Donna. I've got Josh on the line for you. Could you
hold one moment?"

"Sure." I push the 'hold' button and set the phone on the cradle.

"Josh," I say as a step over to his office. "Walter Randall."

"Walter Randall?" he asks. "Did I need him?" It's worse than I
thought. He's so tired he can't hold a thought in his head for more
than a minute. I know how it feels.

"Prescher's FBI file," I remind.

"But weren't you--?"

"No clearance," I say.

"Oh, yeah." He picks the phone up. "Hi, Walt. Guess what I'm going
to need."

"Besides a few hours of uninterrupted sleep," I add, under my
breath. He glances up at me, and gives me a weak smile. Within a
moment, he's got Randall promising to dig up the file and messenger
it over within the hour. He thanks the man and hangs up the phone,
rubbing his eyes with his fingers.

"You really have to get some sleep, Josh," I say. "You can't seem to
concentrate for more than two minutes at a time."

"That's not from lack of sleep, Donna. Lack of sleep I can thrive
on. I do some of my best thinking when I haven't had sleep."

His eyes linger over mine, and I know that he's been thinking the
same thing I have. That it's been way too damn long. I smile. This
new knowledge has perked me up. He misses me as much as I miss him.

"I'm finishing this tonight, Donna. We are getting out of here, no
later than ten," he promises. "Tomorrow, I give my recommendation to
the President, and wash my hands of this."

"Okay."

"I mean it, Donna."

"I know," I say.

"Donna, I know that you need someone who can come home at night and--"

"What gave you that idea?"

"I've noticed that you've been distracted lately. It was hard not to
with the having to yell for you four times."

"I need you, Josh. Not just someone who can leave the office at five
and cater to me the rest of the time. You said yourself that this
would all be over tomorrow. I think I can handle the supportive
girlfriend bit for a while longer and put my own needs on the back
burner."

"Believe me, I wish you didn't have to."

"I know you do." I smile flirtatiously and toss my hair.

"Don't you have work to be doing? Other than driving me crazy, I
mean."

"I could probably find something," I fire back as I stand up and
leave the room.

TBC

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