Title: My Knight In Shining Armor
Author: Rose [rosiethebug@yahoo.com]
Archive: Yes please, just call and tell me where my
little baby’s going.
Rating: Nothing worse than PG-13, that’s for sure.
Disclaimer: The following characters belong to people
who are not me. I would not do this if I was making
money off it, because then it would be work.
Summary: Takes place during Noel, probably about two
weeks before Josh’s meeting with Stanley. Lightly
dusted with Josh/Donna angst (with more to come,
hopefully). Josh’s recent outbursts result in a fight
with Donna.
Notes: This story is the first of a series of short
stories I’ve written that take place after and during
‘Noel’. I’ll post the rest if this one is well
received. This is also the first fan fiction I’ve ever
written, so please be kind. ;)
********
I’m pretty sure I’m drunk. I could be wrong, cause I’m
not able to think real clearly at the moment. Maybe
the room really IS spinning in circles and the
bartender HAS grown an extra head.
Ooooh. Bartender. I must be in a bar. That answers two
of my three questions: “Am I drunk?” and “Where am
I?”. That even almost makes sense. Now the third
question-
Why am I drunk and in a bar?
I don’t even like to drink. I’ve never been able to
admit it, but I think beer tastes awful. Smells funny
too. So what happened that made me get falling down
drunk?
Nothing happened at work today. No, I mean lots of
stuff happened, it is the White House after all, just
nothing that would make me down five beers in a
two-hour period.
Wow. Five? No sensitive system for me, heh heh. Josh
would be so jealous. He can’t even keep down two-
Josh. Answer to Question Three.
I think I need another beer.
*********
THAT AFTERNOON
“DONNA!”
The yell, which was really more of a howl, echoed
throughout the West Wing of the White House. The
staffers, used to the noises that frequently issued
from the Deputy Chief of Staff’s office, ignored the
outburst.
If they had been listening carefully they would have
noticed that the scream was not filled with its usual
impatience and frustration tempered with good humor.
This was a bellow of pure rage.
Pity the poor soul who was about to experience the
wrath of Joshua Lyman.
The tone of the screech was not lost on Donna Moss,
Josh’s personal assistant. She had heard it too many
times this past week. Every time she would keep her
temper and try to calm him down before he snapped at
someone important. At the moment, however, she didn’t
give a damn about his mood.
Donna was pissed. And was about to go into the office
of a very pissed Josh.
This was not going to be pretty.
*********
Why does he do this to me? How can one harsh word from
him make me want to either run away crying or beat him
over the head with my stapler? He’d probably dent the
stapler with that hard head of his and I wouldn’t be
able to buy another one because he pays me next to
nothing and I’d have to tie the pieces of paper
together with string and-
“Are you alright, miss?”
A guy’s staring at me. He’s kinda cute, but my
eyesight is a little blurry. Why are my eyes…I’ve been
crying. He made me cry. He turned me into a sad drunk.
I’m gonna kill him with that damn stapler.
“Miss?” Cute Guy is still looking at me. I should
probably say something. He could be a good guy. A
cute, good, interesting guy who has nothing whatsoever
to do with politics…
“I’m sorry to bother you, but don’t you work at the
White House?”
I hate Washington D.C.
*********
THAT MORNING
Donna stepped quietly into the office. “Yes, Josh?”
she asked, masking the anger in her voice. The element
of surprise was the best weapon when it came to
fighting Angry Josh.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded, more
of a bark than a question.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answered
in a voice that chilled the room.
Josh jumped up out of his chair and ran a frustrated
hand through his frazzled hair. “You don’t know what
I’m talking about? You left two important appointments
off my schedule this morning. I have now have two VERY
angry republican senators to placate, and quite
frankly I think you should be the one making the
apologies, not me!”
Josh stopped talking. Not because he had run out of
things to say, but because he saw the look on Donna’s
face. He had never seen her so angry. Josh waited for
her to break the unbearable silence. He had to say
something or he’d burst.
“If this is your way of punishing me for what I said
the other night, I have to say this is the most
childish, unprofessional behavior-”
“How dare you? How dare you suggest I would purposely
leave meetings off your schedule? Do you really think
I’m a silly little twit who throws a tantrum when
things don’t go my way?” Her very voice was ice, her
eyes filled with disgust. It began to occur to him
that he had made a mistake.
“Donna-”
“Because most of the time things don’t go my way,
Joshua. The past week with you has been hell. You yell
for no reason, snap at me whenever I open my mouth,
and every time I try to ask what’s wrong with you-“
“There is NOTHING wrong with me, Donna!”
“Nothing? Why did you just accuse me of sabotage when
you damn well know you made those appointments
yourself and forgot to tell me? I would never, never
do anything so stupid and petty, Josh.”
“Donna, I-”
“But I’m hardly surprised you think so little of me.
Not after what you said last night. You looked me in
the eye and called me pitiful. Told me I was a waste
of your precious time. How could you?” Her dangerous
tone had sunk into one of despair.
He had said that? He couldn’t remember. He knew he
should apologize, but he felt like his stomach was
being twisted into knots. That horrible sick in the
back of his throat that had haunted him all week
strangled his words.
All he could force out of his suddenly dry mouth was,
“You know I don’t feel that way. You know I don’t.”
“Then how do you feel?” she asked quietly. This was
the question they had never dared ask each other. It
was crossing that line they had been dancing on for
three years. After last night, though…she needed to
hear it. Otherwise there was no point.
Josh knew this was his last chance. He could either
bare his soul or say goodbye to the one person who
could save it.
The pressure in the room increased, as if the unspoken
replies to Donna’s question filled the office and
pushed against the walls. Josh couldn’t make himself
speak. After what seemed like a millennia, Donna
sighed.
“I’m going to take the evening off,” she turned to
leave.
Josh felt as if the building was falling down around
his ears. “Will you…will you be in tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
He sighed with relief. “The day after that?”
“We’ll see, Josh.” She left the office, then whispered
to the closed door, “We’ll see.”
***********
Men. Bastards. All of them. Particularly politicians.
I turned to the man formerly known as Cute Guy and
gave him my coldest look. I think the effect might
have been a little spoiled by the fact I had to keep
blinking tears out of my eyes.
“What do you want?”
“I…I know your boss, Josh Lyman. I can call him to
come and get you if you want.”
“Only if you have a stapler handy.” I try to laugh at
my joke, but end up nearly falling off my stool
instead. I just don’t have the whole drunk thing down
yet.
“Okay…I’m gonna go find a pay phone. You stay right
here.” I salute him and go back to my beer, only to
see Josh’s face appear in my glass. He doesn’t look
angry, in fact, he looks a little scared. I want to
help him, but he disappears before I can tell him how
sorry I am about today. Not that he didn’t deserve it,
cause he did, but I should have been more
understanding. I want to tell him I know what’s
happening to him and I’ll never leave him and that I-
“Donna?” That’s funny. I could have sworn I just heard
his voice. But I’m not THAT drunk.
“Donna? Are you okay?” I turn to see Josh Lyman
staring at me with a look of utter astonishment, his
mouth literally gaping open.
“You look like a fish. A Josh Fish.” I reach over and
shut his mouth with my hand. That only makes his eyes
bug out more.
“You’re drunk!” He sounds so shocked, as if the very
idea is inconceivable.
I clap loudly. “Give the man a prize, Johnny! What did
he win?” He grabs my hands and pulls me off my stool.
The room begins to spin and the next thing I know I’m
in Josh’s arms. He throws some money on the bar and
drags me out.
The cold outside hits me like a whip, and Josh stops
carrying me for a moment to cover me with his jacket.
The bastard.
“How did you get here?” he asks, trying not to look me
in the eye.
“Well, let’s see. You robbed me of my self-esteem and
alienated me from the only job that has ever made me
happy, not to mention-“
“I was asking if you came in your car or a taxi,
Donna.” Oh, he sounds so noble. So patient. Like I
should be thanking my lucky stars that he dragged me
out of a perfectly comfortable bar at one in the
morning. My knight in shining armor, Josh is.
“Taxi,” I mumble, hoping he’ll just stuff me in one,
maybe telling the driver my address if he’s feeling
really chivalrous. No such luck.
“I’ll drive you home in my car then.” Who does he
think he is, frickin’ King Arthur? I can’t believe I
ever gave a damn about what this idiot thinks of me.
I was about to tell him just that, but it came out
more like, “Aha, the knight’s noble steed!” He just
buckled my seat belt and shook his head as he climbed
into the drivers seat.
“Am I like this when I’m drunk?” he asked as we pulled
out of the tiny parking lot.
“No, you’re not nearly so witty. And beautiful. And
intelligent. And-“
“I really don’t see how I damaged your self-esteem,
Donna.” He says jokingly. It’s been a while since I
heard him sound so light-hearted. I turn to stare at
him, drinking in the concerned but otherwise peaceful
look on his face.
“What?”
“What what?”
“Why are you staring at me?”
“I’m not staring at you,” I say as I stare at him,
memorizing every line of this face I haven’t seen in
so long.
“Yes you are.”
“Do you not like it?” Where did that come from?
“Where did that come from?” He’s reading my mind. This
scares me.
“Stop it, Donna, you’re scaring me.” AH! I turn around
to face my window and lean my head against the cold
glass. I need to think about how to deal with this. I
need to think about…
I wake up in my bed with sunlight making stripes
across my rug. I have a headache. I must be dying.
Either dying or having a hangover. I hope I’m dying.
I roll out of my bed and shut the blinds. I’m about to
crawl back under the covers when I hear snores. Not
loud ones, but loud enough so I know it’s not my cat.
They’re coming from the living room. Who could
possibly be sleeping on my couch at five o’clock in
the morning?
Everything that happened yesterday comes back in a
rush. The fight with Josh. My foray into drinking. And
Josh taking me home. Josh picking me up at a seedy
bar, driving me home, and spending the night on my
couch. Why is he on my couch?
Well, we all know how badly I deal with unanswered
questions, so I decide to wake Josh up and ask him. I
stomp into the living room and poke him.
“Joshua Lyman, why are you on my couch?”
Have I mentioned that I’m not very tactful early in
the morning? In my defense, I do give him a few
minutes to wake up before I force him to answer.
“Huh? Wha? I… umm…after I dropped you off last night I
was worried about you so…I thought I’d…you passed out
in the car…it was getting kinda late and I…”
It’s so hard to be angry with him when he has that
rumpled little boy look. Why should I be angry he
stayed, anyway? He was worried; if anything it was
sweet-
Sweet? No, no. Even when he’s Normal Josh he’s rarely
sweet. He just didn’t feel like driving home so late.
Even as I try to convince myself of this, that little
voice in my head that always gets me into trouble with
Josh tells me, <But he came to pick you up last night.
He drove you home at one o’clock in the morning. He
tucked you into bed, for God Sake->
No! That way of thinking leads only to madness. It’s
really hard not to be tempted by madness when he has
that rumpled look. If I wasn’t so furious at him for
the other day-
Damn it. That’s what all this is really about. <You’re
mad at him because he’s going through something and he
won’t let you help,> the voice tells me, as if I
should already know this. <Especially when you of all
people should understand->
I refuse to tell him about that. It would just make
things worse, not to mention more complicated. The
last thing in the world he needs is more guilt to
carry around on his shoulders.
“Donna? You okay?” He was just sitting there watching
me during that whole inner war episode. That’s not
good.
“Of course, Josh, I’m fine.”
“After last night I would think you would have the
hangover from hell.”
“I’m fine. You’d better go home or you’ll be late to
work.” He sighs, as if bracing himself for what he’s
about to say.
“Donna…are we okay?” he asks hesitantly vaguely
gesturing to the space between us.
I want to say something horrible and hurtful. I want
to spit in his face and tell him to go to hell. But I
know he didn’t mean what he said. If no one else, I
understand what he’s going through.
“Yes. Just…”
“Yeah?”
“If you need anything, Josh, just know that I’m here.
That I understand.” He looks as if he’s about to argue
with me, then nods slowly.
“Thanks. See you in an hour or so?”
“Sure.” He gathers his things and walks to the door.
“Oh, and Josh? Thank you for being my knight in
shining armor last night.” He looks puzzled for a
moment, then laughs that great laugh of his, like he’s
too shocked to do anything else. I love that laugh.
*********
I haven’t heard him laugh since. The past two weeks
have been even worse than the first. He strikes out at
everyone. I know what’s happening, but I’m powerless
to stop it. He won’t even speak to me unless he wants
something for work, then he refuses to meet my eyes.
This man that I…I will say it… this man that I love is
falling apart before my eyes and all I can do is pray
he doesn’t destroy himself in the process.
The End.