There’s a seat free next to me. Now, how about that for a coincidence? I don’t know who saved the seat. Was it me? Oh. I think it was me. It’s the champagne. We’ll blame the champagne.
I really saved a seat for Josh? Like we’re a couple or something? Like sitting next to him at a wedding is the most natural thing in the world? Which of course it is. It is, isn’t it? Me and him. Him and me.
Okay, we’ll definitely blame the champagne. Get a g r i p, girl.
Still, it’s very fortunate that there is a free seat next to me. It’s fortunate too that he sees it, that he slides in next to me, just in time to watch the entrance of the bride.
I squeeze his hand. I want him to know, I’m here Josh, I love you, I don’t know what’s going on with this electoral math, I don’t know what it means for you personally on a professional level (do you have another level?), but I’m here. Drink some champagne with me. Let’s forget about the election, just for one night. That’s a song, isn’t it – we could be heroes, forever and ever, we could be heroes, just for one day... Well, that part is kind of a bit about the election. So let’s not use that song.
He squeezes my hand back. He’s registered. Registered that I’m here for him. Registered, let us hope, that I am an attractive woman in need of entertainment.
But no. No, that’s not what this is about. (I mean, maybe it is a little bit. Maybe it was the boredom that drove me to sampling perhaps a little too much of that delicious champagne. Did I mention the champagne?) But I’m not going to make demands on him right now. I’m going to be here for him, because he needs me.
I’m always going to be here for him. He knows that, right? That’s what the hand squeezing really means. I’m here for you now because I’ll always be here for you.
But after this election is over, there had better be some entertainment.
He’s still holding my hand.
He’s not looking at me, though. It’s as if he can’t allow himself to admit to feeling what he’s feeling, he can’t deal with it right now (will he deal with it ever?). But right now he doesn’t have the energy to fight this.
Doesn’t have the energy to fight his need of me.
Too much champagne. Definitely too much champagne.
But I’m damned if I’m letting go of this hand. I’ll never let go, says Rose in Titanic... I’m the king of the world, they say together earlier. That’s how we’ll feel together when we win, right? Him and me at the helm of a ship with hopefully a happier fate than that one... You’re the king of my world, Josh...
He’s looking at me now, though. Looking at me in the same tone that he would use to say “Donna?” when he thought I was about to unspool. I didn’t say any of that out loud, did I? Please tell me I didn’t. There’ll be plenty of time for that later. I mean, a lot later. Like after the election. Maybe. I’m hoping. A girl can always hope. Is it hot in here? Why is the room spinning?
Why are we standing up? Oh, the vows. Josh is holding me up. Josh is holding me up! I should be holding him up. I’m meant to be looking after him. That’s what the hand squeezing was about. The hand holding. That is what it was about, isn’t it? Oh, I’m so confused.
But he’s holding me up and his eyes are locked on me again and above the humming in my ears I can hear “in sickness and in health...” and then he’s whispering in my ear “and even when you’re drunk...”. What? I’m not drunk. What are you implying?
Wait up, though. Are you saying that you want to add that to our wedding vows?
No. I don’t think that’s what he’s saying.
Is that what he’s saying?
He has such beautiful eyes. Usually I’m too distracted by his dimples. But he has beautiful eyes. I want to dive into them. I want to -
We’re sitting down again. We missed our moment. That was our moment right there. Why is CJ looking at me funny? Maybe I should take my head off his shoulder. But it fits so nicely there...
“Donna.” This time he is actually speaking, incredibly softly, and it’s not just in my head. At least I don’t think so. I should mind a lot more that he’s ruining my hair by running his hand through it. I really should. (It took me so long to put it up just right.) I don’t though. Not one bit.
“It’s not like I’m not enjoying this. But...” I love the way his whispering tickles my ear.
“But what?” I’m doing the big wide innocent eyes thing. I do that well.
“People will... talk.”
Serioulsy –that whole Bambi thing. I’m brilliant. “About what?”
“You know... Us,” He can't quite meet my gaze for that one syllable.
“So let ‘em.”
“Yeah.” Is it submission? Is he humoring me? In any case I love the way that he at least tries make eye contact when he says it.
It’s worked. My secwet plan to fight electowal math. He’s not thinking about that now. He’s thinking about me and what people might be thinking about him and me. I can tell, because a smile twitches on his lips from time to time as the service continues.
“If I promise to dance with you,” he whispers, still holding me up, as the wedding party files out, “do you promise to drink a lot of water very quickly?”
“For you, Josh, anything.”
Oh no. I really, really did say that out loud. Oh ground swallow me up. N o w. Please?
He raises an eyebrow. “Anything?”
I squeeze his hand in return. If only he knew.
Wednesday 30 December 2009
Tuesday 1 December 2009
Wakeful in Washington...
I’m slowly and blissfully sinking into much-needed, well-deserved sleep, with Josh’s arms around my waist, as became our custom years ago. The nearness of him never gets old, not even now that we’ve been together longer than we were, well, not.
“Daddy.”
Her first word ever. And since then, ever her first word.
“Daddy.”
Maybe her devotion to him is something she picked up from me, in which case there definitely shouldn’t be that slight pinching feeling around my heart when she always calls for him first. But...
She’s louder, more insistent this time. “Daddy. I can’t sleep.”
Josh untangles himself from me, running his hand down my arm to underline his reluctance at leaving me. That doesn’t get old either. Even in half-asleep states such as this one, I know awide grin is creeping across my face. I smile a lot these days. There’s worry, of course, arguments sometimes, there are sleepless nights not always for the right reasons, and there’s more time apart than I would choose, but there is a lot of smiling.
“Hey, Pumpkin.”
He scoops her up in his arms, and she wraps her arms around him, blonde curls not so much framing her bleary-eyed face as messily crowding around it, as if in her toddlerhood she had missed the edges when coloring herself in.
“You tried naming the States like I taught you?” He’s carrying her to her bedroom, putting her back in bed I guess, sliding her hair behind her ear as he loves to do with both of us.
I can imagine her earnest nodding, her wide blue eyes looking up at the only man who matters to her. (Long may that last.) “But I forgot Wisconsin and I had to look it up on that list you made for me.”
She forgot Wisconsin? How can she forget the place she spends every other Christmas and countless other holidays? I bet she didn’t forget Connecticut.
“So then I did it again and I even remembered all the M states and the New States and even Ohio and stuff, ‘cause that’s where Aunt CJ comes from even though I always forget, and Washington that’s a state even though Washington DC isn’t...”
This little girl will go far.
Or maybe not so far from here. The White House is in her blood. Her father would have the head of any boss who had her there till 1 am, no matter how charming. I shudder to think what he would do to one who bought her flowers and sabotaged her dates. He will have to be kept firmly under control. Still, I have a good few years to think of a workable strategy.
“So then I did them all and I still wasn’t asleep.”
“Did you try listing the Presidents?”
“Yeah. But it only works when we do it together.”
His dimples will be telling her that he loves being the centre of her world. So easily sweet-talked by his darling daughter. There’s a reason we called her Abigail – “father’s joy”. When he held her for the first time, he was transfixed. Imagine that – Josh Lyman, speechless. I recognised the tenderness and the wonder I saw in his eyes in a hospital on a much less happy day, years ago, miles away, when he couldn’t say “I love you”. This time he could, and he did, to both of us.
“How did we make something so beautiful?” He still often asks me that. I smile and remind him it was actually me who did most of the work.
“So I guess it’s kind of fair that she looks so much like you,” he’ll usually conclude, but every time I’m sure I detect just the slightest hint of envy in his tone.
“Not that I mind,” he’ll add, and kiss me. So it’s a conversation I really don’t mind having over and over. Another thing that never gets old. Unlike our daughter, sadly.... I want to keep her at seven forever. She’s her mother’s joy too. I hope that will not change with age.
I imagine he’s lying on her bed next to her now, as he often does, transfixed again by her loveliness and her bright mind as though discovering her for the first time, taking her little hand in his, counting off on her fingers, as they go through their routine. “George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson...”
Safely wrapped up in her daddy, Abi’s voice is drifting to the happy place of sweet dreams and turning to a whisper. She does make it to the end, though. “Uncle Jed, Uncle Matt, Uncle Sam, and you.”
Even when she’s only half-awake, she’s a pretty stubborn and determined little girl (guess it’s what you could call a dominant gene) and there is no point arguing with her.
But Josh, probably kneeling now and leaning over to brush the hair from her forehead and kiss her goodnight, does always add, “Someone’s gotta be the guy those guys count on. That’s my role.” This may be his way of letting her down gently, but I think perhaps it’s a little subtle for a seven-year-old. Still, at least she won’t be able to claim in later life he didn’t warn her.
“Good night, Princess.”
“Good night, daddy.”
He walks away, probably backwards – yes, definitely backwards, I hear a muffled “ouch” as he bumped into the wall behind him – so he can steal as much of a glance of her as possible. I wonder, did he ever do that with me?
“Daddy?” Her sleepy voice calls him back.
“You’re my favorite President.”
Out, I assume, come the dimples as his smile, his whole self, expand with pride. This isn't part of the routine. This is straight from the heart.
“Hey.” He climbs back into bed, strokes my leg with his foot, treasuring the closeness that never gets old to him either.
“Hey,” I say, as tenderly as I can because there’s something I want to clear up and I don’t want it to sound like a rebuke when I do. “You’re not going to become President just because your daughter asked you to, are you?” I’m hoping my voice doesn’t betray my increased heart rate. This question has actually been wandering around my subconscious for quite a long time now, and not only my subconscious: Helen and I have a lunch planned. You know, just... in case. I want to be ready. You never know, do you?
“There are worse reasons,” he whispers softly in my ear, then nuzzles into my neck, kissing me gently.
I love it when he does this. He knows it, too. “Josh.”
"Mmmm?"
“You’ll always be my favorite President, too.”
That discussion can wait. Come to think of it, so can sleep.
“Daddy.”
Her first word ever. And since then, ever her first word.
“Daddy.”
Maybe her devotion to him is something she picked up from me, in which case there definitely shouldn’t be that slight pinching feeling around my heart when she always calls for him first. But...
She’s louder, more insistent this time. “Daddy. I can’t sleep.”
Josh untangles himself from me, running his hand down my arm to underline his reluctance at leaving me. That doesn’t get old either. Even in half-asleep states such as this one, I know awide grin is creeping across my face. I smile a lot these days. There’s worry, of course, arguments sometimes, there are sleepless nights not always for the right reasons, and there’s more time apart than I would choose, but there is a lot of smiling.
“Hey, Pumpkin.”
He scoops her up in his arms, and she wraps her arms around him, blonde curls not so much framing her bleary-eyed face as messily crowding around it, as if in her toddlerhood she had missed the edges when coloring herself in.
“You tried naming the States like I taught you?” He’s carrying her to her bedroom, putting her back in bed I guess, sliding her hair behind her ear as he loves to do with both of us.
I can imagine her earnest nodding, her wide blue eyes looking up at the only man who matters to her. (Long may that last.) “But I forgot Wisconsin and I had to look it up on that list you made for me.”
She forgot Wisconsin? How can she forget the place she spends every other Christmas and countless other holidays? I bet she didn’t forget Connecticut.
“So then I did it again and I even remembered all the M states and the New States and even Ohio and stuff, ‘cause that’s where Aunt CJ comes from even though I always forget, and Washington that’s a state even though Washington DC isn’t...”
This little girl will go far.
Or maybe not so far from here. The White House is in her blood. Her father would have the head of any boss who had her there till 1 am, no matter how charming. I shudder to think what he would do to one who bought her flowers and sabotaged her dates. He will have to be kept firmly under control. Still, I have a good few years to think of a workable strategy.
“So then I did them all and I still wasn’t asleep.”
“Did you try listing the Presidents?”
“Yeah. But it only works when we do it together.”
His dimples will be telling her that he loves being the centre of her world. So easily sweet-talked by his darling daughter. There’s a reason we called her Abigail – “father’s joy”. When he held her for the first time, he was transfixed. Imagine that – Josh Lyman, speechless. I recognised the tenderness and the wonder I saw in his eyes in a hospital on a much less happy day, years ago, miles away, when he couldn’t say “I love you”. This time he could, and he did, to both of us.
“How did we make something so beautiful?” He still often asks me that. I smile and remind him it was actually me who did most of the work.
“So I guess it’s kind of fair that she looks so much like you,” he’ll usually conclude, but every time I’m sure I detect just the slightest hint of envy in his tone.
“Not that I mind,” he’ll add, and kiss me. So it’s a conversation I really don’t mind having over and over. Another thing that never gets old. Unlike our daughter, sadly.... I want to keep her at seven forever. She’s her mother’s joy too. I hope that will not change with age.
I imagine he’s lying on her bed next to her now, as he often does, transfixed again by her loveliness and her bright mind as though discovering her for the first time, taking her little hand in his, counting off on her fingers, as they go through their routine. “George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson...”
Safely wrapped up in her daddy, Abi’s voice is drifting to the happy place of sweet dreams and turning to a whisper. She does make it to the end, though. “Uncle Jed, Uncle Matt, Uncle Sam, and you.”
Even when she’s only half-awake, she’s a pretty stubborn and determined little girl (guess it’s what you could call a dominant gene) and there is no point arguing with her.
But Josh, probably kneeling now and leaning over to brush the hair from her forehead and kiss her goodnight, does always add, “Someone’s gotta be the guy those guys count on. That’s my role.” This may be his way of letting her down gently, but I think perhaps it’s a little subtle for a seven-year-old. Still, at least she won’t be able to claim in later life he didn’t warn her.
“Good night, Princess.”
“Good night, daddy.”
He walks away, probably backwards – yes, definitely backwards, I hear a muffled “ouch” as he bumped into the wall behind him – so he can steal as much of a glance of her as possible. I wonder, did he ever do that with me?
“Daddy?” Her sleepy voice calls him back.
“You’re my favorite President.”
Out, I assume, come the dimples as his smile, his whole self, expand with pride. This isn't part of the routine. This is straight from the heart.
“Hey.” He climbs back into bed, strokes my leg with his foot, treasuring the closeness that never gets old to him either.
“Hey,” I say, as tenderly as I can because there’s something I want to clear up and I don’t want it to sound like a rebuke when I do. “You’re not going to become President just because your daughter asked you to, are you?” I’m hoping my voice doesn’t betray my increased heart rate. This question has actually been wandering around my subconscious for quite a long time now, and not only my subconscious: Helen and I have a lunch planned. You know, just... in case. I want to be ready. You never know, do you?
“There are worse reasons,” he whispers softly in my ear, then nuzzles into my neck, kissing me gently.
I love it when he does this. He knows it, too. “Josh.”
"Mmmm?"
“You’ll always be my favorite President, too.”
That discussion can wait. Come to think of it, so can sleep.
Sunday 29 November 2009
A tale of two Christmases, part 1 (post ep to Holy Night)
Donna, having dropped her bag and coat back at her bullpen, stands in Josh's doorway.
DONNA:So, did you get the roof fixed?
JOSH: (looking up, plesantly suprised) Hey. Aren’t you meant to be at the Inn?
DONNA: The helicopter went without me.
JOSH: No room at the Inn for you then.
DONNA: I guess not. Did you get the roof fixed?
JOSH: Getting there. Wanna give it another hour, and then we’ll head to the Hawk and Dove?
DONNA: Sounds good. (pause) Once you’ve had enough mulled wine will you tell me what you meant?
JOSH: Huh?
DONNA: “It’s not what it looks like.” What did you mean?
JOSH: I just didn’t – it doesn’t matter, Donna. Forget about it.
DONNA: Okay.
A little later (after we've seen shots of them working together on the roof thing, with Norah Jones' "what am I to you?"in the background)
JOSH: Right. Time to go.
DONNA: We’re giving up?
JOSH: Not giving up as such, no. I don’t give up. Just, you know, taking an extended break.
DONNA: Okay.
JOSH: You know, looking on the bright side of you having missed that helicopter...
DONNA: I didn’t.
JOSH: ... you get your present this way. What do you mean, you didn’t?
DONNA: Did you say present?
JOSH: Don’t I always get you a present?
DONNA: Yes.
JOSH (opens his desk drawer, pulls out a small, neatly wrapped box) Happy Christmas, Donnatella.
DONNA: Thank you. (she opens it; it’s a beautiful necklace with a tiny solitaire diamond) Wow.
JOSH: You like it?
DONNA: It’s lovely. It must have –
JOSH: Don’t worry about that. It’s really my pleasure. It’s the only time I get to properly thank you for everything you do. For... holding me together.
DONNA: Thank you, Josh. (She kisses him on the cheek.)
JOSH: You’re not going to put it on?
DONNA: It wouldn’t go with this sweater.
JOSH: I don’t get to see it on you?
DONNA: If you insist.
JOSH: I really do.
DONNA: Hang on... (She takes her sweater off and underneath has a turquoise, v-necked top. She fiddles with the necklace, struggles to do it up.)
JOSH: You want a hand with that?
DONNA: Maybe, yes.
JOSH (stands behind her, doing up her necklace, but taking longer about it than he should. He traces the outline of her neck with his finger. Then whispers into her ear, still from behind) Beautiful.
DONNA (looking down at the necklace) It is.
JOSH: I didn’t mean the necklace.
DONNA (looks deep into his eyes. For a good few moments, they are close enough to kiss.) Thank you.
Josh takes a few steps away from Donna, to look at her with the necklace on.
JOSH: You didn’t miss the helicopter?
DONNA: No.
JOSH: That doesn’t make any sense.
DONNA: I know. (pause) Neither does you keeping me here on purpose.
JOSH: I know that too.
DONNA: Josh –
JOSH: C’mon, get your coat. Let’s go get us some mulled wine and start this holiday in style.
DONNA: (moving towards the door) Okay.
JOSH: Donna? (Donna turns round and looks at him) It looks fantastic on you. And some day someone will buy you the earrings to match.
DONNA: Someone?
JOSH: The right guy. Someone who deserves you.
DONNA: (smiling) I’ll get my coat.
DONNA:So, did you get the roof fixed?
JOSH: (looking up, plesantly suprised) Hey. Aren’t you meant to be at the Inn?
DONNA: The helicopter went without me.
JOSH: No room at the Inn for you then.
DONNA: I guess not. Did you get the roof fixed?
JOSH: Getting there. Wanna give it another hour, and then we’ll head to the Hawk and Dove?
DONNA: Sounds good. (pause) Once you’ve had enough mulled wine will you tell me what you meant?
JOSH: Huh?
DONNA: “It’s not what it looks like.” What did you mean?
JOSH: I just didn’t – it doesn’t matter, Donna. Forget about it.
DONNA: Okay.
A little later (after we've seen shots of them working together on the roof thing, with Norah Jones' "what am I to you?"in the background)
JOSH: Right. Time to go.
DONNA: We’re giving up?
JOSH: Not giving up as such, no. I don’t give up. Just, you know, taking an extended break.
DONNA: Okay.
JOSH: You know, looking on the bright side of you having missed that helicopter...
DONNA: I didn’t.
JOSH: ... you get your present this way. What do you mean, you didn’t?
DONNA: Did you say present?
JOSH: Don’t I always get you a present?
DONNA: Yes.
JOSH (opens his desk drawer, pulls out a small, neatly wrapped box) Happy Christmas, Donnatella.
DONNA: Thank you. (she opens it; it’s a beautiful necklace with a tiny solitaire diamond) Wow.
JOSH: You like it?
DONNA: It’s lovely. It must have –
JOSH: Don’t worry about that. It’s really my pleasure. It’s the only time I get to properly thank you for everything you do. For... holding me together.
DONNA: Thank you, Josh. (She kisses him on the cheek.)
JOSH: You’re not going to put it on?
DONNA: It wouldn’t go with this sweater.
JOSH: I don’t get to see it on you?
DONNA: If you insist.
JOSH: I really do.
DONNA: Hang on... (She takes her sweater off and underneath has a turquoise, v-necked top. She fiddles with the necklace, struggles to do it up.)
JOSH: You want a hand with that?
DONNA: Maybe, yes.
JOSH (stands behind her, doing up her necklace, but taking longer about it than he should. He traces the outline of her neck with his finger. Then whispers into her ear, still from behind) Beautiful.
DONNA (looking down at the necklace) It is.
JOSH: I didn’t mean the necklace.
DONNA (looks deep into his eyes. For a good few moments, they are close enough to kiss.) Thank you.
Josh takes a few steps away from Donna, to look at her with the necklace on.
JOSH: You didn’t miss the helicopter?
DONNA: No.
JOSH: That doesn’t make any sense.
DONNA: I know. (pause) Neither does you keeping me here on purpose.
JOSH: I know that too.
DONNA: Josh –
JOSH: C’mon, get your coat. Let’s go get us some mulled wine and start this holiday in style.
DONNA: (moving towards the door) Okay.
JOSH: Donna? (Donna turns round and looks at him) It looks fantastic on you. And some day someone will buy you the earrings to match.
DONNA: Someone?
JOSH: The right guy. Someone who deserves you.
DONNA: (smiling) I’ll get my coat.
Sunday 22 November 2009
In the cupboard...
Pure fluff. I'm sorry, it's late Sunday night and I've been thoroughly depressed by the mid series 6 Josh/Donna angst, after it was all so promising right at the beginning of the series. Thank goodness it's my second time through.
Donna drags Josh into a cupboard to tell him something about Senator Rafferty and the water thing I struggled to fully get a grip on. Her excuse is that she needs to tell him something where there are no people.
JOSH: Is our relationship about to change?
DONNA: (turning the light on) Have you seen these briefing papers on this water thing?
JOSH: No smile for my cute line?
DONNA: You know I've always ignored those. Our relationship hasn't changed that much.
JOSH: Just wanted to make you smile, that's all. I ... don't seem to be able to do that anymore. Aha! That was a smile. I saw a smile. I'm happy. So this water thing then?
DONNA: You want to talk about our relationship? Let's talk about our relationship.
JOSH: Who said anything about talking?
He leans in to kiss her, and the nation holds it breath. Well, nations plural, really.
Donna's just too sensible, though, or too confused, or too hurt, or something, so it's the briefest of kisses. Sigh. (if you want AU fan fic you need to look elsewhere!)
DONNA: (pulling away) Josh...What's this about?
JOSH: I miss you, Donna. You should be with me.
DONNA: You said that already. But... you've been acting like you hate me. I don't -
JOSH: I hate you for making it hurt so much.
DONNA: Making what hurt?
JOSH: (takes her hand and presses it against his chest, above his heart) Everything. It's all wrong without you. It's no fun. (he locks her fingers with his)
DONNA: It's not been a lot of fun for me either. There'll be time for fun when this is over.
JOSH: Really?
DONNA: Only if you lose that squeaky voice effect.
JOSH: Sorry. That happens sometimes when I ... get excited. (they both laugh quietly, mindful that being discovered in a cupboard together may not do either of their campaigns any huge favours)
DONNA: Just to clarify... by fun, I obviously mean Scrabble and Monopoly.
JOSH: Obviously. Twister, maybe?
DONNA: Don't push your luck.
JOSH: (dimples out in full force) Okay.
DONNA: We still need to talk, though.
JOSH: Okay.
DONNA: And let's not fight anymore.
They hug. We'd hoped for more, but this will soothe some of the angst, at least.
JOSH: Only if you don't fight my chickens anymore.
DONNA: Deal. (pulling away) Now, about this water thing...
Donna drags Josh into a cupboard to tell him something about Senator Rafferty and the water thing I struggled to fully get a grip on. Her excuse is that she needs to tell him something where there are no people.
JOSH: Is our relationship about to change?
DONNA: (turning the light on) Have you seen these briefing papers on this water thing?
JOSH: No smile for my cute line?
DONNA: You know I've always ignored those. Our relationship hasn't changed that much.
JOSH: Just wanted to make you smile, that's all. I ... don't seem to be able to do that anymore. Aha! That was a smile. I saw a smile. I'm happy. So this water thing then?
DONNA: You want to talk about our relationship? Let's talk about our relationship.
JOSH: Who said anything about talking?
He leans in to kiss her, and the nation holds it breath. Well, nations plural, really.
Donna's just too sensible, though, or too confused, or too hurt, or something, so it's the briefest of kisses. Sigh. (if you want AU fan fic you need to look elsewhere!)
DONNA: (pulling away) Josh...What's this about?
JOSH: I miss you, Donna. You should be with me.
DONNA: You said that already. But... you've been acting like you hate me. I don't -
JOSH: I hate you for making it hurt so much.
DONNA: Making what hurt?
JOSH: (takes her hand and presses it against his chest, above his heart) Everything. It's all wrong without you. It's no fun. (he locks her fingers with his)
DONNA: It's not been a lot of fun for me either. There'll be time for fun when this is over.
JOSH: Really?
DONNA: Only if you lose that squeaky voice effect.
JOSH: Sorry. That happens sometimes when I ... get excited. (they both laugh quietly, mindful that being discovered in a cupboard together may not do either of their campaigns any huge favours)
DONNA: Just to clarify... by fun, I obviously mean Scrabble and Monopoly.
JOSH: Obviously. Twister, maybe?
DONNA: Don't push your luck.
JOSH: (dimples out in full force) Okay.
DONNA: We still need to talk, though.
JOSH: Okay.
DONNA: And let's not fight anymore.
They hug. We'd hoped for more, but this will soothe some of the angst, at least.
JOSH: Only if you don't fight my chickens anymore.
DONNA: Deal. (pulling away) Now, about this water thing...
Saturday 21 November 2009
Iowa: why he didn't knock
Oh, what you wouldn’t give to be the other side of that door. Holding her.
She looked so tired in that elevator. She looked like she needed a hug. You could do with one yourself. This campaign business... you’d forgotten how much it takes it out of you. And you’re not as young as you were eight years ago.
There she was though, as beautiful as ever, as lovely as ever, but there was this thing, this wall, and you don’t know who put it there, you suspect maybe it was you. Or maybe it was her in reaction to you. Either way it would appear that you are somehow to blame in this.
You want to knock, you want to say you’re sorry, you want to hold her, and hold her, and hold her some more.
You don’t trust yourself to just hold her, though.
You both know why this is so difficult, and if you go in there to kiss and make up, and it doesn’t all go horribly wrong, that’s exactly what will happen. And while that would be amazing... while it would be everything you’ve dreamed of for so long, it’s not the time. It’s not the place. She’s tired and she’s vulnerable and you don’t want to take advantage of her.
And, to be honest, you’re scared. You’ve both been so awkward. Both like bulls in China shops. If one of you says the wrong thing (you, probably), if she rejects you again, if that wall goes back up, that might be it, for good.
In Gaza, you thought she knew. You thought she knew how you felt. And while you can’t bear to think about what happened to put the two of you there, in that situation, the memory of those intimate moments is precious beyond words.
You miss her friendship. You miss her hugs. You miss her smile and the banter and you miss knowing that one day, one day when all this is finally over, you will get to be together. You’ve always known that, really. And now you don't know anymore, and it's killing you.
It’s killing you. This distance, this wall. The absence of her.
And the cold.
Oh, the cold.
You can’t bear to have it confirmed, to have it formalised.
You’ve almost certainly lost her for good, but you don’t want to risk it. Just in case.
It’s killing you but you don’t knock.
For Donna's take see http://donnamoss.blogspot.com/2009/11/iowa.html
She looked so tired in that elevator. She looked like she needed a hug. You could do with one yourself. This campaign business... you’d forgotten how much it takes it out of you. And you’re not as young as you were eight years ago.
There she was though, as beautiful as ever, as lovely as ever, but there was this thing, this wall, and you don’t know who put it there, you suspect maybe it was you. Or maybe it was her in reaction to you. Either way it would appear that you are somehow to blame in this.
You want to knock, you want to say you’re sorry, you want to hold her, and hold her, and hold her some more.
You don’t trust yourself to just hold her, though.
You both know why this is so difficult, and if you go in there to kiss and make up, and it doesn’t all go horribly wrong, that’s exactly what will happen. And while that would be amazing... while it would be everything you’ve dreamed of for so long, it’s not the time. It’s not the place. She’s tired and she’s vulnerable and you don’t want to take advantage of her.
And, to be honest, you’re scared. You’ve both been so awkward. Both like bulls in China shops. If one of you says the wrong thing (you, probably), if she rejects you again, if that wall goes back up, that might be it, for good.
In Gaza, you thought she knew. You thought she knew how you felt. And while you can’t bear to think about what happened to put the two of you there, in that situation, the memory of those intimate moments is precious beyond words.
You miss her friendship. You miss her hugs. You miss her smile and the banter and you miss knowing that one day, one day when all this is finally over, you will get to be together. You’ve always known that, really. And now you don't know anymore, and it's killing you.
It’s killing you. This distance, this wall. The absence of her.
And the cold.
Oh, the cold.
You can’t bear to have it confirmed, to have it formalised.
You’ve almost certainly lost her for good, but you don’t want to risk it. Just in case.
It’s killing you but you don’t knock.
For Donna's take see http://donnamoss.blogspot.com/2009/11/iowa.html
Friday 23 October 2009
Josh and Amy - post ep to "Han", series 5
(Josh and Amy are watching the concert from just outside the room)
JOSH : So listen, umm, Ryan of all people asked me straight out about our
relationship, and I couldn't have avoided the subject more if I had faked
a stroke.
AMY : Cheeky little brat.
JOSH : That's not the point, even if I'd wanted to answer him I wouldn't have known
what to say. It's like what C.J. said today about the economy; by refusing
to put language to it we're trying to pretend it doesn't exist, but it's
something... even if we don't know what to call it. I just think it's time
to start thinking about a language plan for whatever it is we're doing too.
JOSH : So listen, umm, Ryan of all people asked me straight out about our
relationship, and I couldn't have avoided the subject more if I had faked
a stroke.
AMY : Cheeky little brat.
JOSH : That's not the point, even if I'd wanted to answer him I wouldn't have known
what to say. It's like what C.J. said today about the economy; by refusing
to put language to it we're trying to pretend it doesn't exist, but it's
something... even if we don't know what to call it. I just think it's time
to start thinking about a language plan for whatever it is we're doing too.
AMY: Yeah. (pause) A language plan? Not a secret language plan to fight anything though, right?
JOSH: Are you mocking me?
AMY: (smiles) I wouldn’t dare.
JOSH: Especially in my hour of vulnerability, and all...
AMY: (pause) I like not using language. Not talking is a lot of fun, Josh.
JOSH: (smiles) Yeah.
AMY: And you do it better than most.
JOSH: (mock offended) Most?
AMY: Yes, most. Okay, all.
JOSH: There’s a “but” coming though, isn’t there?
AMY: (looks down, then forces herself to look into his eyes.) I walked past when Donna was doing your bow-tie before.
JOSH: Oh?
AMY: Josh... I’m not the love of your life, am I?
JOSH: I... don’t know what you mean.
AMY: I think you do. And I deserve better than that. We both do.
JOSH: What do you... I’m not in love with Donna.
AMY: It’s just a silly phase you’re going through?
JOSH: Was going through. Before you...
AMY: That’s a lovely sentiment, and I wish I could believe it. (Gives him a long, lingering, sexy look, brushes his shoulder, kisses his cheeky and leaves. He looks longingly at her, then Donna comes into view in the background.
Cue:
I'm not in love, no-no
(It's because...)
Ooh, you'll wait a long time for me
Ooh, you'll wait a long time
Ooh, you'll wait a long time for me
Ooh, you'll wait a long time
I'm not in love, so don't forget it...
Tuesday 13 October 2009
Stranger than fiction... (sometime pre-Amy, pre-Inauguration, and definitely pre-Gaza)
Rosemary, this is just for you, and inspired by our earlier conversation on our Facebook group's wall! (http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=119668758613&ref=ts if anyone cares!)
Apologies to everyone else - I think I may have lost it slightly!!
Josh has no idea about such trivial matters as what the date is, particularly given his severe sleep deprivation. He's been working round the clock for days with Toby on a Very Important Bill.
DONNA: (enters Josh's office, looking serious. Closes the door behind her.) Joshua. The time has come.
JOSH: (looking up from his desk, where he's fallen asleep with his head in a file) Huh?
DONNA: I've been doing a bit of reading and...
JOSH: (groaning) Donna. What have I told you about that? And when could you possible have the time to...
DONNA: (wry smile) Sometimes at weekends there's like an hour in between when I get up and when you call me in for work.
JOSH: (sheepish) Yeah. Sorry about that.
DONNA: You're not, though, are you?
JOSH: Sorry?
DONNA: Yeah.
JOSH: No. (in a sudden moment of lucidity) You're not through, are you?
DONNA: No. I discovered something slightly worrying.
JOSH: About Democratic party policy?
DONNA: No, Josh. About us. (Pauses dramatically.) It turns out that we're not real.
JOSH: We're not?
DONNA: No. We're fictional characters in a TV drama.
JOSH: Don't be ridiculous. Who'd watch a TV drama about the White House?
DONNA: That's the ridiculous part?
JOSH: No. The us being fictional is ridiculous. But seriously, who'd watch that?
DONNA: You'd watch it.
JOSH: You know the sad thing is, I would...
DONNA: Geeks, then.
JOSH: Hey!
DONNA: It's okay. Geeks can be attractive. Also, since I'm in it, lots of hot men with crushes on me. Although since those people usually turn out to be Republicans, I guess there are a lot of broken TVs out there...
JOSH: Okay. That's it. You've unspooled. Go home and get some sleep. That's an order. I've got to go and see Toby about the thing. Do you know where the file...
DONNNA: (interrupting him) What do you think the viewers are thinking?
JOSH: Are we still talking about this?
DONNA: Until you answer me, yes.
JOSH: (sighs) I think the viewers find me strangely attractive. Something about the dimples. I dunno. (Shrugs.) It's beyond me.
DONNA: Maybe it's the power thing. (she moves closer to him, straightens his tie, moves away slightly.)
JOSH: (distracted by her closeness) Mmmm.
DONNA: But that's not what I meant. What do you think they are thinking about, you know, us? (she gently brushes imaginary dust off his shoulders)
JOSH: I am way, way past the point of even caring that I long ago stopped understanding what ...
DONNA: Handsome, powerful, slighlty vulnerable boss; beautiful, lovable assistant; lots of chemistry. Not for nothing, but don't you think the viewers would want us to have kissed by now? That's all I'm saying.
JOSH: (trying to cover up his panic and end the conversation as quickly as possible.) Close the door on your way out. And please, oh please, stick to Newsweek from now on.
DONNA: Okay. (She picks up Newsweek from his desk) This today's? (She points at the date: April 1st)
JOSH: (smiles in blissful relief) You're unbelievable.
DONNA: I know. (She smiles, leaves, closes the door behind her.)
Apologies to everyone else - I think I may have lost it slightly!!
Josh has no idea about such trivial matters as what the date is, particularly given his severe sleep deprivation. He's been working round the clock for days with Toby on a Very Important Bill.
DONNA: (enters Josh's office, looking serious. Closes the door behind her.) Joshua. The time has come.
JOSH: (looking up from his desk, where he's fallen asleep with his head in a file) Huh?
DONNA: I've been doing a bit of reading and...
JOSH: (groaning) Donna. What have I told you about that? And when could you possible have the time to...
DONNA: (wry smile) Sometimes at weekends there's like an hour in between when I get up and when you call me in for work.
JOSH: (sheepish) Yeah. Sorry about that.
DONNA: You're not, though, are you?
JOSH: Sorry?
DONNA: Yeah.
JOSH: No. (in a sudden moment of lucidity) You're not through, are you?
DONNA: No. I discovered something slightly worrying.
JOSH: About Democratic party policy?
DONNA: No, Josh. About us. (Pauses dramatically.) It turns out that we're not real.
JOSH: We're not?
DONNA: No. We're fictional characters in a TV drama.
JOSH: Don't be ridiculous. Who'd watch a TV drama about the White House?
DONNA: That's the ridiculous part?
JOSH: No. The us being fictional is ridiculous. But seriously, who'd watch that?
DONNA: You'd watch it.
JOSH: You know the sad thing is, I would...
DONNA: Geeks, then.
JOSH: Hey!
DONNA: It's okay. Geeks can be attractive. Also, since I'm in it, lots of hot men with crushes on me. Although since those people usually turn out to be Republicans, I guess there are a lot of broken TVs out there...
JOSH: Okay. That's it. You've unspooled. Go home and get some sleep. That's an order. I've got to go and see Toby about the thing. Do you know where the file...
DONNNA: (interrupting him) What do you think the viewers are thinking?
JOSH: Are we still talking about this?
DONNA: Until you answer me, yes.
JOSH: (sighs) I think the viewers find me strangely attractive. Something about the dimples. I dunno. (Shrugs.) It's beyond me.
DONNA: Maybe it's the power thing. (she moves closer to him, straightens his tie, moves away slightly.)
JOSH: (distracted by her closeness) Mmmm.
DONNA: But that's not what I meant. What do you think they are thinking about, you know, us? (she gently brushes imaginary dust off his shoulders)
JOSH: I am way, way past the point of even caring that I long ago stopped understanding what ...
DONNA: Handsome, powerful, slighlty vulnerable boss; beautiful, lovable assistant; lots of chemistry. Not for nothing, but don't you think the viewers would want us to have kissed by now? That's all I'm saying.
JOSH: (trying to cover up his panic and end the conversation as quickly as possible.) Close the door on your way out. And please, oh please, stick to Newsweek from now on.
DONNA: Okay. (She picks up Newsweek from his desk) This today's? (She points at the date: April 1st)
JOSH: (smiles in blissful relief) You're unbelievable.
DONNA: I know. (She smiles, leaves, closes the door behind her.)
Sunday 11 October 2009
Inauguration part II - over there - alternative ending
I still think I can be forgiven for having initially thought that Josh and Donna were finally getting together in this episode... Ha! Three more series to go... No wonder I started whizzing through my DVDs at breakneck speed at this point.
Brad and Janel, I've said it before and I'll say it again, at least a thousand times - you are amazing. I love you!!!
Anyway, I wanted to prolong the getting-together-ness of this ep, so here goes.
Josh still has that adoring, you-look-amazing look in his eyes throughout this scene and Donna is not even trying to hide how much she is enjoying that... and how much she loves him too.
JOSH: (leaning in to whisper to Donna) I know this is a work night now...
DONNA: (wistfully) Yeah.
JOSH: But just one dance?
DONNA: (smiling radiantly) Okay. But just one.
JOSH: I think any more and we may be in trouble...
DONNA: Yeah. We need to get to work.
JOSH: That’s not what I meant.
DONNA: Okay.
He interlocks her fingers with his. They start dancing.
DONNA: (into his ear) Josh, I –
JOSH: (gently) Shhhh. Not now. Let’s just enjoy this moment.
She leans into him, head on his shoulder, and he wrap his arms around her as they continue to slow dance. We see tenderness in Josh’s eyes. They look to all intents and purposes like a couple very much in love.
Fade out/pan out...
Brad and Janel, I've said it before and I'll say it again, at least a thousand times - you are amazing. I love you!!!
Anyway, I wanted to prolong the getting-together-ness of this ep, so here goes.
Josh still has that adoring, you-look-amazing look in his eyes throughout this scene and Donna is not even trying to hide how much she is enjoying that... and how much she loves him too.
JOSH: (leaning in to whisper to Donna) I know this is a work night now...
DONNA: (wistfully) Yeah.
JOSH: But just one dance?
DONNA: (smiling radiantly) Okay. But just one.
JOSH: I think any more and we may be in trouble...
DONNA: Yeah. We need to get to work.
JOSH: That’s not what I meant.
DONNA: Okay.
He interlocks her fingers with his. They start dancing.
DONNA: (into his ear) Josh, I –
JOSH: (gently) Shhhh. Not now. Let’s just enjoy this moment.
She leans into him, head on his shoulder, and he wrap his arms around her as they continue to slow dance. We see tenderness in Josh’s eyes. They look to all intents and purposes like a couple very much in love.
Fade out/pan out...
Sunday 27 September 2009
Is Donna there?
THE MID-TERMS, series 2.
This follows a scene that was sadly cut but is on the bonus DVD that came with my box set, where Donna is at Josh’s during his recovery and CJ calls. She asks if Donna is there and he says no (but then is forced to retract the lie).
DONNA: Why did you lie?
JOSH: What do you mean?
DONNA: Why d’you lie to CJ, about me being here? You said I wasn’t here, and then you pulled that face like you were being naughty.
JOSH: I –
DONNA: Because we’re not being naughty, Josh.
JOSH: (playfully and flirtatiously) Doctor’s orders, Donna, believe me, if I could...
DONNA: (in telling-off mode) Josh!
DONNA: It’s okay that I’m here. They know I’m here a lot. It seemed like you feel guilty about that.
JOSH: Yeah, it’s just...
DONNA: What?
JOSH: (embarrassed) Well, we’re – practically in bed together here.
DONNA: (smiles) You wish.
JOSH: Yeah. And therein lies the problem.
Donna looks at him quizzically, trying to work out if he is being playful or serious this time. The viewers aren’t sure either.
Fade out.
This follows a scene that was sadly cut but is on the bonus DVD that came with my box set, where Donna is at Josh’s during his recovery and CJ calls. She asks if Donna is there and he says no (but then is forced to retract the lie).
DONNA: Why did you lie?
JOSH: What do you mean?
DONNA: Why d’you lie to CJ, about me being here? You said I wasn’t here, and then you pulled that face like you were being naughty.
JOSH: I –
DONNA: Because we’re not being naughty, Josh.
JOSH: (playfully and flirtatiously) Doctor’s orders, Donna, believe me, if I could...
DONNA: (in telling-off mode) Josh!
DONNA: It’s okay that I’m here. They know I’m here a lot. It seemed like you feel guilty about that.
JOSH: Yeah, it’s just...
DONNA: What?
JOSH: (embarrassed) Well, we’re – practically in bed together here.
DONNA: (smiles) You wish.
JOSH: Yeah. And therein lies the problem.
Donna looks at him quizzically, trying to work out if he is being playful or serious this time. The viewers aren’t sure either.
Fade out.
Friday 25 September 2009
Another Alternative Ending for War Crimes, #307
NB: for this to make sense, you need to first read Series 2, post ep 10 - Noel - cut scene and possibly also http://donnamoss.blogspot.com/2009/08/noel.html
Josh and Donna are waiting together for Cliff to return with Donna's diary. It's cold. It's tense.
DONNA: (nervously breaking the silence) You didn't, you know...
JOSH: Read it?
DONNA: Yeah.
JOSH: (sad and shocked that she would think that) Donna...
DONNA: (embarrassed, not looking at him) Of course not. Sorry. I shouldn't have asked, it's just...
JOSH: (quietly, after a pause) I've read your diary before.
DONNA: (slightly panicky) When?
JOSH: At the hospital...
DONNA: Oh Josh, that was...
JOSH: What?
DONNA: You know. Heat of the moment stuff.
JOSH (disappointed) Oh. So you didn’t mean it.
DONNA: Well...
JOSH: (smiling triumphantly) Of course you meant it.
DONNA: Josh, we can’t...
JOSH: I know. We can’t go there. Just... maybe... Come here...
He wraps his arms around her.
JOSH: Maybe I could hold you for a while?
She doesn't object, and they sit, embracing, for a while.
DONNA: (breaking the embrace to look at him) Josh?
JOSH: Yeah?
DONNA: The holding each other thing didn’t work out so well in When Harry Met Sally, did it?
JOSH: Well, that depends how you look at it. I think it ended very well.
They look tenderly at each other and smile. Donna rests her head on Josh's shoulder and he puts his arm around her.
Josh and Donna are waiting together for Cliff to return with Donna's diary. It's cold. It's tense.
DONNA: (nervously breaking the silence) You didn't, you know...
JOSH: Read it?
DONNA: Yeah.
JOSH: (sad and shocked that she would think that) Donna...
DONNA: (embarrassed, not looking at him) Of course not. Sorry. I shouldn't have asked, it's just...
JOSH: (quietly, after a pause) I've read your diary before.
DONNA: (slightly panicky) When?
JOSH: At the hospital...
DONNA: Oh Josh, that was...
JOSH: What?
DONNA: You know. Heat of the moment stuff.
JOSH (disappointed) Oh. So you didn’t mean it.
DONNA: Well...
JOSH: (smiling triumphantly) Of course you meant it.
DONNA: Josh, we can’t...
JOSH: I know. We can’t go there. Just... maybe... Come here...
He wraps his arms around her.
JOSH: Maybe I could hold you for a while?
She doesn't object, and they sit, embracing, for a while.
DONNA: (breaking the embrace to look at him) Josh?
JOSH: Yeah?
DONNA: The holding each other thing didn’t work out so well in When Harry Met Sally, did it?
JOSH: Well, that depends how you look at it. I think it ended very well.
They look tenderly at each other and smile. Donna rests her head on Josh's shoulder and he puts his arm around her.
Sunday 20 September 2009
Molly Morello's diary (extract...)
The oddest and most heart-warming thing happened today.
The President of the United States called to wish me a happy retirement. At least, I think it was him. I’m still expecting someone to shout out APRIL FOOL any minute. (Not that it’s April, but I’m struggling to think of a more likely explanation..) We had a fantastic conversation about Twelfth Night and something about James Bond I’m ashamed to say I didn’t quite understand.
But as blown away as I was by that, that isn’t what brought a tear to my eye.
“I’m in the Oval Office with the President of the United States, and it’s because of you.”
What a thing to say! I really don’t think I did very much at all, but it’s a privilege to have been involved in a life like hers.
I love all my students, of course (well, most of them), and my deepest desire has always been that that they would achieve their full potential. But Donnatella was something special. You could see it from the spark in her eyes when she talked about the things she was passionate about, and her unending devotion to those things and reluctance to change the subject before she obtained the result she was looking for.
So I’m not surprised she’s working for a Bigger Cause, and I’d be even less surprised were I to discover that she was doing it with zeal, fervor and a determination and devotion that far outstrip the undoubtedly enormous demands on her.
I always knew she was destined for greatness.
Or is that too easy to say with the benefit of hindsight?
I hope that she is happy.
And I know this isn’t a politically correct thing to say these days (no pun intended), but I hope too that she has a man who is worthy of her; who is aware of the privilege of being entrusted with such a precious life; who will love her, honor her, and help her to become all she can be. She so wanted to be married, to be loved, to be treasured. She looked for it in odd places sometimes. I hope that has changed. There was something in her voice that told me it might have – something of confidence and added maturity.
God, I pray that You would send her this man. That together they may have a nation-changing impact for the good of this country. And that they would be unspeakably happy.
And also that she might write me a bit more often... I miss our correspondance and occasional coffees.
The President of the United States called to wish me a happy retirement. At least, I think it was him. I’m still expecting someone to shout out APRIL FOOL any minute. (Not that it’s April, but I’m struggling to think of a more likely explanation..) We had a fantastic conversation about Twelfth Night and something about James Bond I’m ashamed to say I didn’t quite understand.
But as blown away as I was by that, that isn’t what brought a tear to my eye.
“I’m in the Oval Office with the President of the United States, and it’s because of you.”
What a thing to say! I really don’t think I did very much at all, but it’s a privilege to have been involved in a life like hers.
I love all my students, of course (well, most of them), and my deepest desire has always been that that they would achieve their full potential. But Donnatella was something special. You could see it from the spark in her eyes when she talked about the things she was passionate about, and her unending devotion to those things and reluctance to change the subject before she obtained the result she was looking for.
So I’m not surprised she’s working for a Bigger Cause, and I’d be even less surprised were I to discover that she was doing it with zeal, fervor and a determination and devotion that far outstrip the undoubtedly enormous demands on her.
I always knew she was destined for greatness.
Or is that too easy to say with the benefit of hindsight?
I hope that she is happy.
And I know this isn’t a politically correct thing to say these days (no pun intended), but I hope too that she has a man who is worthy of her; who is aware of the privilege of being entrusted with such a precious life; who will love her, honor her, and help her to become all she can be. She so wanted to be married, to be loved, to be treasured. She looked for it in odd places sometimes. I hope that has changed. There was something in her voice that told me it might have – something of confidence and added maturity.
God, I pray that You would send her this man. That together they may have a nation-changing impact for the good of this country. And that they would be unspeakably happy.
And also that she might write me a bit more often... I miss our correspondance and occasional coffees.
Thursday 17 September 2009
Cautious optimism
This takes place sometime during the first year in office. I liked drunk Josh so decided to have a little fun with him...
Apologies for any Briticisms - I have no idea whether Americans call pyjamas PJs, and have the sneaky suspicion you might spell them pajamas anyway... I've just about made my peace with "favorite" and "I just saw him", but I'm afraid I am, and will always remain, a (lovable?) Brit. After all, you can take the girl out of England, but...
A drunk Josh knocks on Donna's door in the middle of the night. She opens and he stumbles in, tripping over the cat. He shouts an expletive in its direction.
Apologies for any Briticisms - I have no idea whether Americans call pyjamas PJs, and have the sneaky suspicion you might spell them pajamas anyway... I've just about made my peace with "favorite" and "I just saw him", but I'm afraid I am, and will always remain, a (lovable?) Brit. After all, you can take the girl out of England, but...
A drunk Josh knocks on Donna's door in the middle of the night. She opens and he stumbles in, tripping over the cat. He shouts an expletive in its direction.
Donna is exasperated and mostly sarcastic throughout. Josh is, well, drunk.
DONNA: (in a loud whisper) Shhh! It's the middle of the night.
JOSH: We lost the bill.
DONNA: (sighs) I know. I was there.
JOSH: How can we possibly have lost?
DONNA: Cautious optimism, Josh. How many times...? C'mon, let me get you some water.
JOSH: Where's your flatmate?
DONNA: Asleep, as are most normal people at this time.
CAREY: (calls out, exasperated) Not anymore!
JOSH: Oops.
DONNA: Yeah. (calls out) Sorry! (pours him some water)
JOSH: (somewhat whiny) Donna, why did we lose?
DONNA: I probably didn't do enough index cards.
JOSH: It's not your fault...
DONNA: I know. I was kidding. We lost, Joshua, because sometimes in politics we lose. (hands him the water)
JOSH: But it was a good bill. I really wanted it.
DONNA: Sometimes in life we don't get what we want. (She sighs wistfully)
JOSH: Huh?
DONNA: Drink the water.
JOSH: Yes, mom.
DONNA: Okay, you need to lose that. Now. You know, you're drunk and you won't remember this in the morning. So I can tell you I don't always get what I want either.
JOSH: Wo. Short sentences are good, Donna. Short ones.
DONNA: Never mind.
JOSH: You don't get what you want?
DONNA: No, Josh.
JOSH: And what is it that you want?
DONNA: I think the answer to that would be pretty hard to believe under current circumstances.
JOSH: Huh?
DONNA: Never mind. (throws him the sleeping bag.) Here's the sleeping bag. Here are two pints of water. (puts them down next to him) Drink them. I'll wake you in... (looks at clock) three and a half hours.
JOSH: You look cute in your PJs.
DONNA: Why, thank you, Josh. Maybe I'll wear them to work.
JOSH: Yeah... That would be good. Except I wouldn't get any work done.
DONNA: Here's your toothbrush.
JOSH: I have a toothbrush here?
DONNA: It's kind of worrying that that's how often you end up here. Try not to do this again too soon or Carey will have me evicted.
JOSH: She doesn't want an eligible Fulbright scholar in her flat?
DONNA: Not as much as she wants uninterrupted sleep. As do I. Drink the water, Josh. Good night.
JOSH: Good night, Donnatella. I mean it about the PJs.
Donna rolls her eyes, closes the door and smiles to herself.
Saturday 12 September 2009
Somewhere in Germany... (NB spoiler for season 5)
You wait.
You're not good at waiting, and she knows that. You wait, though, and that's your greatest gift to her right now.
You want to somehow transfer strength to her like she did to you when it was you on a hospital bed. You don't know if you believe in God - and if He's there, you have one or two things to take up with Him - but you tentatively pray for health and strength for her, the way she had for you. It seemed to work, after all. You have difficulty finding your words.
So you sit by her bedside, and you wait. And from time to time you whisper, "Donna, don't leave me. I can't do this without you." And you don't just mean the job. You mean life.
You want to say so much more, but that seems risky. There's a tiny chance she may hear you, and everything will change. And you're not sure you're ready. But if the worst were to happen, you'd want her to know how deeply you loved her.
You're pondering all this when she opens her eyes. You're sure your heart just skipped a beat. You walk over to her, responding to her calling you. You're still here. Of course you're still here. Where else would you be? Governing the country can wait. Everything else can wait. You're useless without her anyway.
She's so beautiful. Even here, looking so ill, so fragile, so damaged, so tired, to you, she's beautiful. You realise this sounds crazy, that this must mean there is no hope for you ever to recover from this... this... what is it? Infatuation? Obsession? No. You sense that this, in fact, is it. This is the love that you have been looking for all of your life. This is the love of two people who make it, who build a life together, who have children and grow old together and never look back. This is the love of soulmates, who know each other inside out and fit each other like a glove.
Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this.
You've found it, you've found her, and you're not letting her go. Not this time. Not ever again.
You long to kiss her. You longed to do that while she was unconscious, too. You wanted to be the prince in Sleeping Beauty. But life, sadly, is not a fairy tale, and yours is a complicated situation. You're not going to think about that for now, though. For now, she's awake. And your name is the first thing that crossed her lips.
You don't know which of those two things you are happiest about.
You're not good at waiting, and she knows that. You wait, though, and that's your greatest gift to her right now.
You want to somehow transfer strength to her like she did to you when it was you on a hospital bed. You don't know if you believe in God - and if He's there, you have one or two things to take up with Him - but you tentatively pray for health and strength for her, the way she had for you. It seemed to work, after all. You have difficulty finding your words.
So you sit by her bedside, and you wait. And from time to time you whisper, "Donna, don't leave me. I can't do this without you." And you don't just mean the job. You mean life.
You want to say so much more, but that seems risky. There's a tiny chance she may hear you, and everything will change. And you're not sure you're ready. But if the worst were to happen, you'd want her to know how deeply you loved her.
You're pondering all this when she opens her eyes. You're sure your heart just skipped a beat. You walk over to her, responding to her calling you. You're still here. Of course you're still here. Where else would you be? Governing the country can wait. Everything else can wait. You're useless without her anyway.
She's so beautiful. Even here, looking so ill, so fragile, so damaged, so tired, to you, she's beautiful. You realise this sounds crazy, that this must mean there is no hope for you ever to recover from this... this... what is it? Infatuation? Obsession? No. You sense that this, in fact, is it. This is the love that you have been looking for all of your life. This is the love of two people who make it, who build a life together, who have children and grow old together and never look back. This is the love of soulmates, who know each other inside out and fit each other like a glove.
Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this.
You've found it, you've found her, and you're not letting her go. Not this time. Not ever again.
You long to kiss her. You longed to do that while she was unconscious, too. You wanted to be the prince in Sleeping Beauty. But life, sadly, is not a fairy tale, and yours is a complicated situation. You're not going to think about that for now, though. For now, she's awake. And your name is the first thing that crossed her lips.
You don't know which of those two things you are happiest about.
Tuesday 8 September 2009
New Year's Eve, 1999
It’s New Year, 1999. A milestone in history is about to be reached, even though Sam claims otherwise. You finger your phone. Right there at the party. You’re drinking to everyone’s health and enjoying yourself but there is only one person you want to be with when the clock strikes. And you’ve just realised it isn’t Joey Lucas.
The countdown starts. You scroll down to D. Excuse yourself. The phone rings off – network down. Of course. Everyone is ringing their lov – I mean, the people they care about the most. And right there in the middle of this party surrounded by many people you are enjoying being with, you realise you desperately want to kiss this amazing woman who is out of reach, out of bounds, off limits. To kiss her till you both can’t breathe anymore. Wo – Josh. Calm down, you tell yourself. This isn’t good for your blood pressure.
Has she read the note? Has she read it over and over like you hoped she would? Has she understood the unspoken? Will things ever be the same between you? And if not, was it foolish of you to risk everything? What if she guesses what you meant? You wanted her to, and yet you are worried. What if she wants to act on it? You know you can’t. You’re so devoted to your job. She’s devoted to hers – or to you. You can’t tell. It’s difficult to analyse which is which. You, your job, her, her job... so inextricably linked. Inextricably. You like that word. You like the sound of it. You like the idea of being inextricably bound up with her. Inextricably so you to can’t tell where you end and she begins. Inextricably, forever, Josh, calm down. You cannot feel like this.
Shove it, it’s New Year’s Eve and you will feel like you want to feel. In the other room they are singing Auld Lang Syne. The twenty-first century has begun and you so wanted to begin it with her at your side. You finger your phone again. Scroll down to D. Network down. Yeah, I knew it. Hang on – it’s ringing. You feel your heart beating faster. Get a grip, you tell yourself. In a couple of days you have to work with this woman. You cannot be catching yourself wondering how soft this alabaster skin feels under that sweater... you cannot be...
“Hello?” She’s at a party too, it’s loud, you can barely hear her.
“Josh! Happy New Year!” You wanted to say it first. But as so often – she’s the initiator.
“Happy New Year to you too, “ you reply, which sounds so lame, so you add what you really want her to know, “I wish you were with me...”
She can’t hear you. It’s loud, she says, she has to step out, but by the time she has the moment has passed and you can’t bring yourself to repeat it. You weren’t sure it was appropriate the first time round. Appropriate? Like what has been going on in your head has been in any way appropriate. But well, there is so much to consider in this relationship, it’s all so complicated. Not that it’s a relationship as such, not the one you want, but..
“Josh?” she sounds concerned. You like it when she sounds concerned for you. You love it when she looks after you. “You still there?”
“Yup. I’m still here.” And you’re not, and I so want you to be, can I come over? You want to add, but you know you can’t.
“I just wanted to say happy new year...”
“You said that already.”
“Well, happy new millennium then.”
You can hear the smile in her voice. “You too.”
“Donna...” you love saying her name. You love the way it feels in your mouth. You want to say it so many times over and over, while you... Wo, brain. Come back to me please. Please try to behave.
“You’ve gone quiet again,” she points out in her own inimitable, organised fashion.
“Sorry. I don’t have that much to say.” Well, it’s not as big a lie as it sounds. You have a lot to say but none of it can be voiced, so that’s the same thing, right? Even you’re not convinced by that argument, though.
“Just, well, Happy New Year. “
“You’re repeating yourself.”
“Donna...” there you go again. Just keep focussed this time...
“Donna, I mean it. I want you to be happy this year.” There. That’s nice, and meaningful. Even if it stops short of saying you want to be the one making her happy.
But you love what she says next. “Josh, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. But thank you.”
Is that because of you? Is that because of what you wrote? You hope so. You so desperately hope so. But maybe it’s nothing to do with you. Maybe it’s actually just that she loves her job. Maybe she’s just met a hot Republican at this party of hers. Maybe she’s just at that point in her life when people...
Whatever.
“I’m glad,” you manage to remember to say, and you add, “let’s keep it that way...”
There’s silence. She doesn’t know what to say. You don’t either. You swallow hard. You probably shouldn't say this, but shove it. It's New Year's, and you can always blame it on the champagne if need be. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know – I was thinking of you tonight.”
“Me too.” It’s the kind of thing you’re meant to say in these situations, but you can hear in her voice that she means it, that she was looking for an excuse to say it.
You wonder about bringing in your favorite defence mechanism and making a joke about getting her drunk one New Year’s and seeing if you couldn’t make her even happier, but you resist. You don’t want to spoil this moment, which is already being spoilt by so many things. By her physical absence most of all. And by all those unsaid things, unsaid because that’s the way it has to be, for now, for a long time, for many more New Year’s Eves, many more Christmases, until one day you take her to Hawaii and tell her exactly how you feel and what you want from life. Life with her.
But that will have to wait. And so will you. You regretfully put the phone down, go back to the party and grab another drink before that thought can take hold and drive you into insanity and beyond.
The countdown starts. You scroll down to D. Excuse yourself. The phone rings off – network down. Of course. Everyone is ringing their lov – I mean, the people they care about the most. And right there in the middle of this party surrounded by many people you are enjoying being with, you realise you desperately want to kiss this amazing woman who is out of reach, out of bounds, off limits. To kiss her till you both can’t breathe anymore. Wo – Josh. Calm down, you tell yourself. This isn’t good for your blood pressure.
Has she read the note? Has she read it over and over like you hoped she would? Has she understood the unspoken? Will things ever be the same between you? And if not, was it foolish of you to risk everything? What if she guesses what you meant? You wanted her to, and yet you are worried. What if she wants to act on it? You know you can’t. You’re so devoted to your job. She’s devoted to hers – or to you. You can’t tell. It’s difficult to analyse which is which. You, your job, her, her job... so inextricably linked. Inextricably. You like that word. You like the sound of it. You like the idea of being inextricably bound up with her. Inextricably so you to can’t tell where you end and she begins. Inextricably, forever, Josh, calm down. You cannot feel like this.
Shove it, it’s New Year’s Eve and you will feel like you want to feel. In the other room they are singing Auld Lang Syne. The twenty-first century has begun and you so wanted to begin it with her at your side. You finger your phone again. Scroll down to D. Network down. Yeah, I knew it. Hang on – it’s ringing. You feel your heart beating faster. Get a grip, you tell yourself. In a couple of days you have to work with this woman. You cannot be catching yourself wondering how soft this alabaster skin feels under that sweater... you cannot be...
“Hello?” She’s at a party too, it’s loud, you can barely hear her.
“Josh! Happy New Year!” You wanted to say it first. But as so often – she’s the initiator.
“Happy New Year to you too, “ you reply, which sounds so lame, so you add what you really want her to know, “I wish you were with me...”
She can’t hear you. It’s loud, she says, she has to step out, but by the time she has the moment has passed and you can’t bring yourself to repeat it. You weren’t sure it was appropriate the first time round. Appropriate? Like what has been going on in your head has been in any way appropriate. But well, there is so much to consider in this relationship, it’s all so complicated. Not that it’s a relationship as such, not the one you want, but..
“Josh?” she sounds concerned. You like it when she sounds concerned for you. You love it when she looks after you. “You still there?”
“Yup. I’m still here.” And you’re not, and I so want you to be, can I come over? You want to add, but you know you can’t.
“I just wanted to say happy new year...”
“You said that already.”
“Well, happy new millennium then.”
You can hear the smile in her voice. “You too.”
“Donna...” you love saying her name. You love the way it feels in your mouth. You want to say it so many times over and over, while you... Wo, brain. Come back to me please. Please try to behave.
“You’ve gone quiet again,” she points out in her own inimitable, organised fashion.
“Sorry. I don’t have that much to say.” Well, it’s not as big a lie as it sounds. You have a lot to say but none of it can be voiced, so that’s the same thing, right? Even you’re not convinced by that argument, though.
“Just, well, Happy New Year. “
“You’re repeating yourself.”
“Donna...” there you go again. Just keep focussed this time...
“Donna, I mean it. I want you to be happy this year.” There. That’s nice, and meaningful. Even if it stops short of saying you want to be the one making her happy.
But you love what she says next. “Josh, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. But thank you.”
Is that because of you? Is that because of what you wrote? You hope so. You so desperately hope so. But maybe it’s nothing to do with you. Maybe it’s actually just that she loves her job. Maybe she’s just met a hot Republican at this party of hers. Maybe she’s just at that point in her life when people...
Whatever.
“I’m glad,” you manage to remember to say, and you add, “let’s keep it that way...”
There’s silence. She doesn’t know what to say. You don’t either. You swallow hard. You probably shouldn't say this, but shove it. It's New Year's, and you can always blame it on the champagne if need be. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know – I was thinking of you tonight.”
“Me too.” It’s the kind of thing you’re meant to say in these situations, but you can hear in her voice that she means it, that she was looking for an excuse to say it.
You wonder about bringing in your favorite defence mechanism and making a joke about getting her drunk one New Year’s and seeing if you couldn’t make her even happier, but you resist. You don’t want to spoil this moment, which is already being spoilt by so many things. By her physical absence most of all. And by all those unsaid things, unsaid because that’s the way it has to be, for now, for a long time, for many more New Year’s Eves, many more Christmases, until one day you take her to Hawaii and tell her exactly how you feel and what you want from life. Life with her.
But that will have to wait. And so will you. You regretfully put the phone down, go back to the party and grab another drink before that thought can take hold and drive you into insanity and beyond.
Sunday 6 September 2009
Alternative Ending for War Crimes, #307
JOSH: It's starting to get cold already.
Donna looks at him, says nothing.
JOSH: It's going to be fine.
Donna looks at him again, says nothing.
JOSH: Donna, I -
DONNA: (interrupting) I hate it when you're mad at me.
JOSH: I hate being mad at you.
DONNA: I'm so sorry, Josh. For everything, I don't know what I was thinking. About any of it.
JOSH: Hey, it's okay. It's going be fine. We're going to be fine.
She smiles at him, weakly.
JOSH: It's getting cold already. (Puts his arm around her) C'mere...
Donna her head rests on Josh's shoulder and he holds her.
Donna looks at him, says nothing.
JOSH: It's going to be fine.
Donna looks at him again, says nothing.
JOSH: Donna, I -
DONNA: (interrupting) I hate it when you're mad at me.
JOSH: I hate being mad at you.
DONNA: I'm so sorry, Josh. For everything, I don't know what I was thinking. About any of it.
JOSH: Hey, it's okay. It's going be fine. We're going to be fine.
She smiles at him, weakly.
JOSH: It's getting cold already. (Puts his arm around her) C'mere...
Donna her head rests on Josh's shoulder and he holds her.
cut scene from the end of "The Ticket" (#701)
Sam Seaborn, looking tired but very handsome, is grabbing a rare and much-deserved lunchbreak in his office, munching an apple with his feet on the desk. His mobile rings. He picks it up without thinking or looking.
SAM: Yup.
DONNA: Sam. Hi. It’s Donna.
(Donna is sitting on her sofa, drinking hot chocolate and wearing one of Josh’s old sweaters.)
SAM: (pleasantly surprised) Donna Moss?
DONNA: Yes, Sam, Donna Moss. How many other Donnas do you know with my phone number?
SAM: (smiling) I see you haven’t lost your adorable sense of humor.
DONNA: Mmm. Thanks. How are you?
SAM: Thought you’d never ask. Worked off my feet but happy and engaged.
DONNA: Engaged? (her voice breaks slightly) That’s great news.
SAM: (suddenly concerned) Donna? Are you okay?
DONNA: Yes. No. Sam, I need to talk to you. Well I need to talk to someone and I figured –
SAM: You sound like you need a hug.
DONNA: (smiles) Yeah.
SAM: Donna, what’s going on?
DONNA: I don’t know where to – I mean, I don’t know how to -
SAM: Donna?
DONNA: You see, this is why I could never be a public –
SAM: Donna, is this about Josh?
DONNA: How did you...
SAM: It was bound to happen someday.
DONNA: What was bound to happen?
SAM: Whatever it is you’re about to tell me.
(Donna tells him the story, we don’t hear their conversation - Norah Jones’ “I don’t miss you at all” plays over shots of Sam and Donna talking plus scenes of Josh sitting thinking, and walking alone, ...)
Then fade back in:
SAM: I’m going to kill him.
DONNA: Okay, no. I don’t think that’s the solution.
SAM: Nobody makes you cry and gets away with it. I’m getting on a plane right now.
DONNA: Sam –
SAM: After everything you’ve done for him. After you were so reasonable when he went out with that irritating, shrill Amy woman...
DONNA: (smiles slightly) Sam, he’s done a lot for me too over the years. And let’s not forget that I left him.
SAM: You didn’t leave him, Donna. You left the job. That’s very different.
DONNA: I don’t think he sees it that way. (tears start streaming down her face)
SAM: Donna?
DONNA: Yup.*
SAM: I’m going to ask you this only once and I’m going to believe your answer.
DONNA: (bracing herself) Okay.
SAM: Are you in love with Josh?
DONNA: (pause for what seems like an eternity) Yes.
SAM: Wow. That was a lot easier than I expected. I can’t believe one of you finally admitted it after all this time.
DONNA: One of us?
SAM: Oh, Donna. You can’t possibly have failed to notice...
DONNA: What do you – what do you -
SAM: Donna, he’s been in love with you for years. I’m not sure even he realised it at times but it’s been clear as day to the rest of us. That’s a terrible cliché... Clear as... clear as... oh, never mind. Abundantly clear.
DONNA: Really?
SAM: Yes, of course really. * Listen, I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t know the end of the story. I don’t understand why he didn’t take you on. He meant it when he said he missed you. He can’t function without you. This will right itself. I promise.
DONNA: (incredulously) You promise?
SAM: Yes.
DONNA: How can you possibly promise?
SAM: Because, Donna, if it doesn’t I am getting on a plane and knocking some sense into him.
DONNA: (smiling, looking relieved) Okay.
SAM: Hang in there, kid.
DONNA: Okay.
SAM: And come to California for a hug and some sunshine.
They hang up. Donna looks a little shell shocked.
* I'm not sure how realistic/in character parts of this dialogue are - so feel free to cut out the part between the asterixes in your heads...
SAM: Yup.
DONNA: Sam. Hi. It’s Donna.
(Donna is sitting on her sofa, drinking hot chocolate and wearing one of Josh’s old sweaters.)
SAM: (pleasantly surprised) Donna Moss?
DONNA: Yes, Sam, Donna Moss. How many other Donnas do you know with my phone number?
SAM: (smiling) I see you haven’t lost your adorable sense of humor.
DONNA: Mmm. Thanks. How are you?
SAM: Thought you’d never ask. Worked off my feet but happy and engaged.
DONNA: Engaged? (her voice breaks slightly) That’s great news.
SAM: (suddenly concerned) Donna? Are you okay?
DONNA: Yes. No. Sam, I need to talk to you. Well I need to talk to someone and I figured –
SAM: You sound like you need a hug.
DONNA: (smiles) Yeah.
SAM: Donna, what’s going on?
DONNA: I don’t know where to – I mean, I don’t know how to -
SAM: Donna?
DONNA: You see, this is why I could never be a public –
SAM: Donna, is this about Josh?
DONNA: How did you...
SAM: It was bound to happen someday.
DONNA: What was bound to happen?
SAM: Whatever it is you’re about to tell me.
(Donna tells him the story, we don’t hear their conversation - Norah Jones’ “I don’t miss you at all” plays over shots of Sam and Donna talking plus scenes of Josh sitting thinking, and walking alone, ...)
Then fade back in:
SAM: I’m going to kill him.
DONNA: Okay, no. I don’t think that’s the solution.
SAM: Nobody makes you cry and gets away with it. I’m getting on a plane right now.
DONNA: Sam –
SAM: After everything you’ve done for him. After you were so reasonable when he went out with that irritating, shrill Amy woman...
DONNA: (smiles slightly) Sam, he’s done a lot for me too over the years. And let’s not forget that I left him.
SAM: You didn’t leave him, Donna. You left the job. That’s very different.
DONNA: I don’t think he sees it that way. (tears start streaming down her face)
SAM: Donna?
DONNA: Yup.*
SAM: I’m going to ask you this only once and I’m going to believe your answer.
DONNA: (bracing herself) Okay.
SAM: Are you in love with Josh?
DONNA: (pause for what seems like an eternity) Yes.
SAM: Wow. That was a lot easier than I expected. I can’t believe one of you finally admitted it after all this time.
DONNA: One of us?
SAM: Oh, Donna. You can’t possibly have failed to notice...
DONNA: What do you – what do you -
SAM: Donna, he’s been in love with you for years. I’m not sure even he realised it at times but it’s been clear as day to the rest of us. That’s a terrible cliché... Clear as... clear as... oh, never mind. Abundantly clear.
DONNA: Really?
SAM: Yes, of course really. * Listen, I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t know the end of the story. I don’t understand why he didn’t take you on. He meant it when he said he missed you. He can’t function without you. This will right itself. I promise.
DONNA: (incredulously) You promise?
SAM: Yes.
DONNA: How can you possibly promise?
SAM: Because, Donna, if it doesn’t I am getting on a plane and knocking some sense into him.
DONNA: (smiling, looking relieved) Okay.
SAM: Hang in there, kid.
DONNA: Okay.
SAM: And come to California for a hug and some sunshine.
They hang up. Donna looks a little shell shocked.
* I'm not sure how realistic/in character parts of this dialogue are - so feel free to cut out the part between the asterixes in your heads...
Friday 4 September 2009
Alternative Dialog for The Cold
Okay, so here’s how I would have written that dialog in The Cold, although I have to admit it would not have made such good TV. Though it may have saved a few of us from putting our fists through our screens.
JOSH: I... want to apologize for this morning. I’m sorry. It was inappropriate.
DONNA: Don’t worry about it.
JOSH: Really?
DONNA: Seriously. It was bound to happen sometime.
JOSH: You think?
DONNA: Sure. Don’t worry about it. (She starts to walk away)
JOSH: Why do you think that is?
DONNA: What?
JOSH: That it was bound to happen sometime?
(Donna walks back towards him)
DONNA: You know what my favorite movie is, right?
JOSH: When Harry Met Sally... "a man and a woman can’t be friends because the sex part always gets in the way".
DONNA: (pleasantly surprised) Hey – you’ve remembered something I’ve taught you.
JOSH: You know, sometimes I do listen to you.
DONNA: Not often enough.
JOSH: Yeah. I’m a jackass sometimes.
DONNA: (smiling) Sometimes, yes.
JOSH: So why do you put up with me?
DONNA: It’s because of how handsome you are. And powerful. Remember?
JOSH: Donna, please don’t mess with me. I’m totally lost here.
DONNA: I’m only half messing. You are handsome. You are powerful. You’re also caring and sensitive and talented and passionate and inspiring and a million other things.
JOSH: Donna...
DONNA: So it was bound to happen sometime.
JOSH: You don’t think it’s because we’re meant to be together?
DONNA: Oh, Josh.
JOSH: I’m really asking you here.
DONNA: I don’t know what you want me to say.
JOSH: I want... I want... I want you... to...
DONNA: Josh. Are you really that blind?
JOSH: I’m a man, Donna. I need you to teach me a thing or two about the ways of love, remember?
DONNA: (smiles fondly at the memory) Yes.
JOSH: You want to be wooed. I remembered that too.
DONNA: Yes. So I’ll be expecting flowers and compliments. Especially after all the ones I've just handed you...
JOSH: You want me to woo you?
DONNA: You, or a hot Republican... doesn’t much matter who.
JOSH: Donna, please stop messing with my head.
DONNA: I’m sorry. Years of using humor as a defense mechanism. Years of...
JOSH: Of?
DONNA: Having to hide this.
JOSH: You shouldn’t have hidden it.
DONNA: Because?
JOSH: Because then we could have had a few more years of this... (kisses her tenderly; she puts her arms around him and kisses him back... )
JOSH: I... want to apologize for this morning. I’m sorry. It was inappropriate.
DONNA: Don’t worry about it.
JOSH: Really?
DONNA: Seriously. It was bound to happen sometime.
JOSH: You think?
DONNA: Sure. Don’t worry about it. (She starts to walk away)
JOSH: Why do you think that is?
DONNA: What?
JOSH: That it was bound to happen sometime?
(Donna walks back towards him)
DONNA: You know what my favorite movie is, right?
JOSH: When Harry Met Sally... "a man and a woman can’t be friends because the sex part always gets in the way".
DONNA: (pleasantly surprised) Hey – you’ve remembered something I’ve taught you.
JOSH: You know, sometimes I do listen to you.
DONNA: Not often enough.
JOSH: Yeah. I’m a jackass sometimes.
DONNA: (smiling) Sometimes, yes.
JOSH: So why do you put up with me?
DONNA: It’s because of how handsome you are. And powerful. Remember?
JOSH: Donna, please don’t mess with me. I’m totally lost here.
DONNA: I’m only half messing. You are handsome. You are powerful. You’re also caring and sensitive and talented and passionate and inspiring and a million other things.
JOSH: Donna...
DONNA: So it was bound to happen sometime.
JOSH: You don’t think it’s because we’re meant to be together?
DONNA: Oh, Josh.
JOSH: I’m really asking you here.
DONNA: I don’t know what you want me to say.
JOSH: I want... I want... I want you... to...
DONNA: Josh. Are you really that blind?
JOSH: I’m a man, Donna. I need you to teach me a thing or two about the ways of love, remember?
DONNA: (smiles fondly at the memory) Yes.
JOSH: You want to be wooed. I remembered that too.
DONNA: Yes. So I’ll be expecting flowers and compliments. Especially after all the ones I've just handed you...
JOSH: You want me to woo you?
DONNA: You, or a hot Republican... doesn’t much matter who.
JOSH: Donna, please stop messing with my head.
DONNA: I’m sorry. Years of using humor as a defense mechanism. Years of...
JOSH: Of?
DONNA: Having to hide this.
JOSH: You shouldn’t have hidden it.
DONNA: Because?
JOSH: Because then we could have had a few more years of this... (kisses her tenderly; she puts her arms around him and kisses him back... )
Friday 28 August 2009
Series 2, post ep 10 - Noel - cut scene
Josh and Donna are in ER, waiting to see a doctor. He is sitting with his head on her shoulder and she has her arm around him. After all, he is injured, and it is Christmas, so we can allow them a bit of intimacy.
The (youngish, female) Doctor calls Josh in.
DOCTOR: Mr Lyman?
JOSH: (reluctantly sitting up) Yeah.
DOCTOR: Ready to see you now.
JOSH: Okay.
DONNA: (to Josh) She’s an attractive woman. (pauses so there's a chance Josh will think her two sentences are unrelated.) You sure you don’t want me to come with you?
JOSH: (smiles) It’s okay. I know how you feel squeamish at the sight of needles.
DONNA: I think you may be getting me confused with you.
JOSH: Oh, yeah. Easily done, you gotta admit.
DONNA: (unconvinced.) Yeah. It’s the sensitive alabaster skin... So similar, you and I.
Josh disappears with the doctor and Donna get her diary out and starts scribbling. (Best read alongside http://donnamoss.blogspot.com/2009/08/noel.html)
Josh comes back a while later.
JOSH: (tenderly) Hey.
DONNA: She put you back together?
JOSH: Yeah. (waves his newly-bandaged hand) Almost no stitches. Definitely no fainting at the sight of needles. (sees her starting to putting away her diary) Hey, what you writing?
DONNA: Nothing.
JOSH: Well, that’s clearly not true. What is it?
DONNA: Haven’t I warned you before about being too nosy for your own good?
JOSH: I didn’t get where I am without a healthy inquisitiveness.
DONNA: (exasperated) Josh...
Josh reaches down and snatches it. Because of his injured hand it’s difficult for Donna to fight him.
DONNA: (slightly desperately) Josh... I’m warning you.
JOSH: (smiles smugly, aware of the importance of his discovery) This is your diary.
DONNA: Yes.
JOSH: Can I read it?
DONNA: What do you think my answer to that is going to be?
JOSH: Well, that all depends if you are hiding things from me. You wouldn’t hide things from me, right?
DONNA: Of course not. Nothing it was in your interests to know anyway.
JOSH: So I can read it?
DONNA: (flatly) No.
JOSH: Because?
DONNA: A woman’s journal is... (attempts to snatch it back, and there is a healthily flirtatious amount of physical contact. It falls open onto the floor, onto the current page. We see things she has written in big letters - I LOVE HIM, and WHY WAS I NOT THERE?)
JOSH: Donna?
DONNA: (bends down, closes it, picks it up off the floor, refusing to allow herself to look flustered) I have distinctive penmanship, remember. It’s quite possible that what you saw was not what you think you saw.
JOSH: Oh, Donna. (She is now standing up, and he looks at her intensely.) Me too, you know. (she looks at him, questioningly.) I mean it. Me too.
Time stands still. They look deep into each other’s eyes. It’s the perfect opportunity for a kiss. But we have to wait till series 7 for that!
JOSH: Six years is...
DONNA: (interrupting, takes his arm) Come on. We’ll never get you home to your parents’ at this rate.
They walk off into the sunset – erm, sorry, the night...
The (youngish, female) Doctor calls Josh in.
DOCTOR: Mr Lyman?
JOSH: (reluctantly sitting up) Yeah.
DOCTOR: Ready to see you now.
JOSH: Okay.
DONNA: (to Josh) She’s an attractive woman. (pauses so there's a chance Josh will think her two sentences are unrelated.) You sure you don’t want me to come with you?
JOSH: (smiles) It’s okay. I know how you feel squeamish at the sight of needles.
DONNA: I think you may be getting me confused with you.
JOSH: Oh, yeah. Easily done, you gotta admit.
DONNA: (unconvinced.) Yeah. It’s the sensitive alabaster skin... So similar, you and I.
Josh disappears with the doctor and Donna get her diary out and starts scribbling. (Best read alongside http://donnamoss.blogspot.com/2009/08/noel.html)
Josh comes back a while later.
JOSH: (tenderly) Hey.
DONNA: She put you back together?
JOSH: Yeah. (waves his newly-bandaged hand) Almost no stitches. Definitely no fainting at the sight of needles. (sees her starting to putting away her diary) Hey, what you writing?
DONNA: Nothing.
JOSH: Well, that’s clearly not true. What is it?
DONNA: Haven’t I warned you before about being too nosy for your own good?
JOSH: I didn’t get where I am without a healthy inquisitiveness.
DONNA: (exasperated) Josh...
Josh reaches down and snatches it. Because of his injured hand it’s difficult for Donna to fight him.
DONNA: (slightly desperately) Josh... I’m warning you.
JOSH: (smiles smugly, aware of the importance of his discovery) This is your diary.
DONNA: Yes.
JOSH: Can I read it?
DONNA: What do you think my answer to that is going to be?
JOSH: Well, that all depends if you are hiding things from me. You wouldn’t hide things from me, right?
DONNA: Of course not. Nothing it was in your interests to know anyway.
JOSH: So I can read it?
DONNA: (flatly) No.
JOSH: Because?
DONNA: A woman’s journal is... (attempts to snatch it back, and there is a healthily flirtatious amount of physical contact. It falls open onto the floor, onto the current page. We see things she has written in big letters - I LOVE HIM, and WHY WAS I NOT THERE?)
JOSH: Donna?
DONNA: (bends down, closes it, picks it up off the floor, refusing to allow herself to look flustered) I have distinctive penmanship, remember. It’s quite possible that what you saw was not what you think you saw.
JOSH: Oh, Donna. (She is now standing up, and he looks at her intensely.) Me too, you know. (she looks at him, questioningly.) I mean it. Me too.
Time stands still. They look deep into each other’s eyes. It’s the perfect opportunity for a kiss. But we have to wait till series 7 for that!
JOSH: Six years is...
DONNA: (interrupting, takes his arm) Come on. We’ll never get you home to your parents’ at this rate.
They walk off into the sunset – erm, sorry, the night...
Sunday 23 August 2009
Scene from Episode #906: New beginnings
In hospital. Donna is in bed, holidng the baby, and Josh is sitting on the bed, talking to her.
Sam walks in.
DONNA: Hey, Sam (smiling). Come meet your new godson.
SAM: (grinning back) Leo Noah.
JOSH: Yep. Named after the two most influential men in my life.
SAM: And I don’t figure on that list?
JOSH: We’ll name the next one after you.
DONNA: (incredulously) The next one?
JOSH: He’s so amazing. We need to have hundreds more like him.
DONNA: I’m sorry, Josh, were you not in the room last night?
JOSH: Well, erm...
DONNA: Apart from the brief instant when you passed out, obviously.
(Sam laughs, and looks at Josh disbelievingly, if that’s a word.)
JOSH: Point taken. Maybe not another one just yet.
DONNA: You're right, though. I mean, look at him. If it wasn’t for the pain... he’s even got your receeding hairline.
JOSH: (smiles at her) As long as everything else is from you, we’ll be fine.
SAM: (somewhat unsure, but wanting to change the subject before more soppy talk starts up...) Okay, so do I get to hold him then?
DONNA: If you promise to be careful. (pointedly) More careful, say, than you might be with a girl’s heart.
SAM: Hey! You can’t still be mad at me about Mallory.
Donna looks at him in a way that indicates that she most certainly can.
Sam leans over to take baby Leo.
SAM: Erm... Josh, help me out here.
Josh walks over, carefully and lovingly takes baby Leo, gives him to Sam and shows him how to hold him.
JOSH: So you put your arm under his head, like this...
SAM: (to baby Leo) Hey there, little fella. I’m your uncle Sam... (to Josh and Donna)I gotta say, I think I may be getting a bit broody looking at him. You guys have done some good work.
JOSH: (beaming) Thanks.
DONNA: (pointedly) Josh?
JOSH: I mean obviously the work was all Donna’s. My role was, erm, minimal. But isn’t he amazing?
DONNA: (pointedly) Josh?
JOSH: But obviously not as amazing as Donna, who did all this work.
SAM: I see there is effective training going on in the Lyman household.
DONNA: I can still revoke your godfather’s title, you know.
JOSH: (to Sam) Not single-handedly, she can’t.
DONNA: (keen to change the subject) Anyway, Sam – how are you? How are the French lessons?
SAM: Oh, erm.... fine. Yeah, fine.
DONNA: (thinking she has interpreted his answer, and getting ready to scold him)You’ve not been going, have you?
JOSH: Oh yes. He’s been going all right. Even getting a bit of, erm (wry smile), extra tuition.
DONNA: Oh? (punches Josh in the arm) How do I not know about this?
SAM: Well it’s... hot off the press, so to speak.
JOSH: Actually, we’re trying to keep it out of the press as much as possible... Anyway, last night didn’t seem quite the right time to tell you.
DONNA: Might have been a nice distraction. Though I gotta tell you, if it’s distraction you’re after, that gas and air thing...pretty decent.
They laugh, and fade out sound/picture as they talk and laugh.
Sam walks in.
DONNA: Hey, Sam (smiling). Come meet your new godson.
SAM: (grinning back) Leo Noah.
JOSH: Yep. Named after the two most influential men in my life.
SAM: And I don’t figure on that list?
JOSH: We’ll name the next one after you.
DONNA: (incredulously) The next one?
JOSH: He’s so amazing. We need to have hundreds more like him.
DONNA: I’m sorry, Josh, were you not in the room last night?
JOSH: Well, erm...
DONNA: Apart from the brief instant when you passed out, obviously.
(Sam laughs, and looks at Josh disbelievingly, if that’s a word.)
JOSH: Point taken. Maybe not another one just yet.
DONNA: You're right, though. I mean, look at him. If it wasn’t for the pain... he’s even got your receeding hairline.
JOSH: (smiles at her) As long as everything else is from you, we’ll be fine.
SAM: (somewhat unsure, but wanting to change the subject before more soppy talk starts up...) Okay, so do I get to hold him then?
DONNA: If you promise to be careful. (pointedly) More careful, say, than you might be with a girl’s heart.
SAM: Hey! You can’t still be mad at me about Mallory.
Donna looks at him in a way that indicates that she most certainly can.
Sam leans over to take baby Leo.
SAM: Erm... Josh, help me out here.
Josh walks over, carefully and lovingly takes baby Leo, gives him to Sam and shows him how to hold him.
JOSH: So you put your arm under his head, like this...
SAM: (to baby Leo) Hey there, little fella. I’m your uncle Sam... (to Josh and Donna)I gotta say, I think I may be getting a bit broody looking at him. You guys have done some good work.
JOSH: (beaming) Thanks.
DONNA: (pointedly) Josh?
JOSH: I mean obviously the work was all Donna’s. My role was, erm, minimal. But isn’t he amazing?
DONNA: (pointedly) Josh?
JOSH: But obviously not as amazing as Donna, who did all this work.
SAM: I see there is effective training going on in the Lyman household.
DONNA: I can still revoke your godfather’s title, you know.
JOSH: (to Sam) Not single-handedly, she can’t.
DONNA: (keen to change the subject) Anyway, Sam – how are you? How are the French lessons?
SAM: Oh, erm.... fine. Yeah, fine.
DONNA: (thinking she has interpreted his answer, and getting ready to scold him)You’ve not been going, have you?
JOSH: Oh yes. He’s been going all right. Even getting a bit of, erm (wry smile), extra tuition.
DONNA: Oh? (punches Josh in the arm) How do I not know about this?
SAM: Well it’s... hot off the press, so to speak.
JOSH: Actually, we’re trying to keep it out of the press as much as possible... Anyway, last night didn’t seem quite the right time to tell you.
DONNA: Might have been a nice distraction. Though I gotta tell you, if it’s distraction you’re after, that gas and air thing...pretty decent.
They laugh, and fade out sound/picture as they talk and laugh.
Saturday 22 August 2009
Epiosde #906
Josh is sitting by Donna’s hospital bed, holding her hand. He has a large plaster on his forehead and various bruises.
(Pause and breathe a sigh of relief – please tell me you didn’t actually think I was going to kill him off!!)
JOSH: (stroking her forehead) How are you doing?
DONNA: (smiles up at him). Pretty well, considering. What happened to the car, anyway?
JOSH: I left it wrapped around the lamppost and got a taxi. I wasn’t going to faff around with that crap while my wife gave birth to our son.
DONNA: (exasperated but too emotional to care that much.) Oh, Joshua. Wait - how do you know it’s a boy?
JOSH: I have a sense about these things...
DONNA: You know it in your heart? (Josh nods) Do you know how many things I’ve been wrong about in my heart?
JOSH: (softly) You weren’t wrong about us.
DONNA: No. But it sure as hell felt like it for a very long time.
JOSH: Are you ever going to let me forget that?
DONNA: Nine years, Josh. That’s all I’m sayin’.
He kisses her forehead.
JOSH: I promise I’ll make it up to you.
DONNA: So you keep saying. Just get me through the next twenty-four hours, that’ll be a good start.
JOSH: I love you so much, you know that?
DONNA: (smiles) Also a good start.
DONNA: Josh?
JOSH: Hmmm?
DONNA: I’m scared.
JOSH : You can do this. I believe in you. You are one amazing woman.
DONNA: I’m not sure distinctive penmanship or colored index cards are going to help me now.
JOSH: Oh Donnatella. There’s so much more to you than that. God, I love you.
Donna winces as a contraction comes and that’s the last we see of that.
Author's note: We are spared the usual, ridiculous, horribly undignified labour and birth scenes. I won’t make Janel Moloney stoop to doing that - it's not like she needs to prove she can act! Someone give that woman an Emmy... she's more than earned it!!
(Pause and breathe a sigh of relief – please tell me you didn’t actually think I was going to kill him off!!)
JOSH: (stroking her forehead) How are you doing?
DONNA: (smiles up at him). Pretty well, considering. What happened to the car, anyway?
JOSH: I left it wrapped around the lamppost and got a taxi. I wasn’t going to faff around with that crap while my wife gave birth to our son.
DONNA: (exasperated but too emotional to care that much.) Oh, Joshua. Wait - how do you know it’s a boy?
JOSH: I have a sense about these things...
DONNA: You know it in your heart? (Josh nods) Do you know how many things I’ve been wrong about in my heart?
JOSH: (softly) You weren’t wrong about us.
DONNA: No. But it sure as hell felt like it for a very long time.
JOSH: Are you ever going to let me forget that?
DONNA: Nine years, Josh. That’s all I’m sayin’.
He kisses her forehead.
JOSH: I promise I’ll make it up to you.
DONNA: So you keep saying. Just get me through the next twenty-four hours, that’ll be a good start.
JOSH: I love you so much, you know that?
DONNA: (smiles) Also a good start.
DONNA: Josh?
JOSH: Hmmm?
DONNA: I’m scared.
JOSH : You can do this. I believe in you. You are one amazing woman.
DONNA: I’m not sure distinctive penmanship or colored index cards are going to help me now.
JOSH: Oh Donnatella. There’s so much more to you than that. God, I love you.
Donna winces as a contraction comes and that’s the last we see of that.
Author's note: We are spared the usual, ridiculous, horribly undignified labour and birth scenes. I won’t make Janel Moloney stoop to doing that - it's not like she needs to prove she can act! Someone give that woman an Emmy... she's more than earned it!!
Friday 21 August 2009
Episode #905 part II - later on
Josh is in his car, driving to Donna to help her to calm down.
The phone beeps. He picks it up. We see the message on the screen - "My water broke."
Next thing we see is the car swerving, we hear a crash...
... cue theme music.
The phone beeps. He picks it up. We see the message on the screen - "My water broke."
Next thing we see is the car swerving, we hear a crash...
... cue theme music.
Episode #905
(Best read alongside http://tinyurl.com/luumrh -Donna's diary)
Donna is at home, very pregnant and very hormonal, and reading through old diaries.
The phone rings in Josh’s office.
JOSH: (picking up the phone) Yup.
DONNA: Josh. (clearly upset) I was asleep and I had a horrible dream and you were in hospital and I was holding the baby walking up and down the corridors and... (takes a deep breath and sounds as if she might start hyperventilating) I can’t do this without you Josh, I need you, don’t leave me...
JOSH: (softly) Donna?
DONNA: (in a small voice) yes...
JOSH: I’ve got you on speaker phone.
(The camera pans out to Sam and that guy from the campaign who writes the speeches , whose name I can’t remember right now. They all look at each other and walk out of the office to give Josh and Donna space)
JOSH: I’ll be right there, honey. Sit tight. Drink some water. I love you. I’m not going to leave you. I’m not going to die. I’ve always loved you. Always since that first moment you picked up my phone. I’ll be right there, okay?
DONNA: (in an even smaller voice) Okay.
Donna is at home, very pregnant and very hormonal, and reading through old diaries.
The phone rings in Josh’s office.
JOSH: (picking up the phone) Yup.
DONNA: Josh. (clearly upset) I was asleep and I had a horrible dream and you were in hospital and I was holding the baby walking up and down the corridors and... (takes a deep breath and sounds as if she might start hyperventilating) I can’t do this without you Josh, I need you, don’t leave me...
JOSH: (softly) Donna?
DONNA: (in a small voice) yes...
JOSH: I’ve got you on speaker phone.
(The camera pans out to Sam and that guy from the campaign who writes the speeches , whose name I can’t remember right now. They all look at each other and walk out of the office to give Josh and Donna space)
JOSH: I’ll be right there, honey. Sit tight. Drink some water. I love you. I’m not going to leave you. I’m not going to die. I’ve always loved you. Always since that first moment you picked up my phone. I’ll be right there, okay?
DONNA: (in an even smaller voice) Okay.
Wednesday 19 August 2009
Josh and Donna's French lesson - episode #803
Best enjoyed with "Facon de Parler 1", pages 176-177 and 179-180
Apologies to a coyple of my students, who may recognise themselves!
Josh and Donna are having a French lesson with Claire, the bilingual Brit who likes lessons to be fun but can get strict when she needs to.
CLAIRE: Okay, firstly a game.
JOSH: A game?
CLAIRE: Yes, Josh. Games are useful for relaxing you, preparing you to learn and helping you access your inner French boy.
JOSH: I sure as hell don’t have one of those.
CLAIRE: We’ll see.
DONNA: Come on Josh, behave yourself. Teacher knows best and all that.
CLAIRE: So, let’s start with “Pass the Bomb”.
JOSH: Bomb?
DONNA: She means “bomb”, Josh. It’s British English.
JOSH: So we’re learning two languages?
DONNA: Josh, what’s up with you? You were really into doing this.
JOSH: Just busy that’s all. Bit stressed.
CLAIRE: Well think of these lessons as part counselling. I can slot that into my job description.
DONNA: Two for the price of one. Nice one. Some people round here could do with a bit of counselling. Hey, Josh?
JOSH: Yeah, yeah
CLAIRE: So, with this game, I give you a vocab card, like this one, that says “beach”, and you have to name as many things as possible that you can find on a beach, and pass the bomb along as you say it. Whoever it explodes on has lost the point.
DONNA: (smug, guessing she is going to win) I like this.
JOSH: How did you even get a “bomb” (mocking her British accent) past security?
CLAIRE: Erm... ‘cause it’s not a real “bomb” (mocking his American accent)?
JOSH: Can we not just name some words without keeping score?
CLAIRE: You don’t like games?
DONNA: He doesn’t like to lose.
JOSH: Which isn’t a problem, because I don’t lose.
DONNA: Oh no. I think we might be heading for another unbearable day.
CLAIRE: No muffins or bagels, I’m afraid. But I do have some coloured stars for the winner.
DONNA: (excitedly) Stars – that’s so cool!
Josh raises his eyebrows.
CLAIRE: And people think gold stars only work on kids...
JOSH: You have gold stars?
CLAIRE: Purple and pink ones too...
DONNA: You;re way cooler than my French teacher at school.
CLAIRE: (smiling) I try my best. Busy people like you, it’s important you enjoy these lessons. Otherwise you won’t learn much, and I figure I’ll get ditched the minute another meeting needs booking in. Plus, I can help you relieve the, erm, tension (looking at Josh) from the rest of the day. Anyway. let’s get started. Things you find in a school...
---
Cut to another scene, then come back later at the end of reading a passage. Josh is weaker on grammar , but speaks with conviction – has a brilliant accent he acquired by mimicking Francophones speaking English, then substituting the English words for French ones. It works by the way – I recommend it! Donna’s understanding and grasp of grammar is however vastly superior, as you might expect.
JOSH: Ils prennent l’appareil photo, les maillots de bain et une serviette.
CLAIRE : Okay, very exciting text I know… Could we have a go at translating it ?
JOSH: So basically they get to the beach, and make out.
CLAIRE: Raises eyebrows Which word in particular is “make out”?
JOSH: Well, look at the picture!
CLAIRE: True. All good language teachers will tell you to use all of the context you can to help you get to your meaning. And they do appear to be unfeasibly close.
DONNA: Unfeasibly close?
CLAIRE: (smiling) I don’t this she’s his assistant, Donna.
JOSH: And then she takes her swimsuit off and he takes photos?
CLAIRE: Okay, keep your fantasies to yourself please...
JOSH: (softly, to Donna, with a playful, tender smile) – memories, not fantasies...
CLAIRE: You are aware that I understand American English?
DONNA: (a little embarrassed) I’m sorry about him.
CLAIRE: (smiles reassuringly , actually quite enjoying herself) It’s okay.
DONNA: In his defence, in the picture she is swinging her swimsuit around and he is holding his camera.
CLAIRE: (looks at picture and laughs) You know, no one’s ever picked up on that before, and it’s a fair point. Okay, next page.
JOSH: Sur la plage, un jeune garçon...
DONNA : (a little more violently than the situation requires) Hey ! It’s my turn to read !
CLAIRE: I think she wants to read...
DONNA: And they say women aren’t clear.
JOSH: Sorry about her. So...
DONNA: ...bossy?
JOSH: Among other things... (cheeky look)
DONNA: I was always indispensible, and you hated that.
CLAIRE: Not that I’m not enjoying being part of this discussion, but could we have a go at reading the text? If it’s not going to cause marital strife...
DONNA: Not yet. There’s a crucial element of that missing yet...
JOSH: Donna...
CLAIRE: (never one to miss such a hint) Oooh, can I come? I’ve never been to a White House wedding!
DONNA: We don’t know yet if it’s going to be a White House wedding.
JOSH: Erm, Donna... we don’t know yet if there’s going to be a wedding. (Donna glares at him. He swallows.) I mean, there is, obviously. But are there any elements in our relationship that we can keep surprising these days?
DONNA: (suggestively) Oh, I think there are.
CLAIRE: (Coughs). Would you like me to leave the room?
JOSH: Sorry. This is all still new to us.
CLAIRE: Was it one of those bound to happen someday things?
DONNA: Very much so. Even if this one had trouble seeing it coming. Or dealing with it when it did come.
JOSH: That's a bit rich, coming from Miss "I don't want to talk I just want to win the election"!
DONNA: Sorry about him.
JOSH: Hey! Would you like me to leave the room so you can carry on discussing me?
DONNA: Yeah, that’d be cool. Thanks, Joshua.
JOSH: No way. I’m here to learn French.
CLAIRE: (to Josh): that's the spirit. (to Donna) Coffee later?
DONNA: Sounds like a plan. You have my email address right?
CLAIRE: Yup. Anyway, Donna, your turn to read...
DONNA: Sur la plage, un jeune garçon vend des glaces. Laurent et Chantal achètent chacun un esquimau.
JOSH : An Eskimo ? They buy an Eskimo?
DONNA: What is it, like buy an Eskimo and set them free day?
JOSH: There’s that freaky sense of humour again.
DONNA: Yeah, and half of it you still don’t get. Even after all this time.
CLAIRE: An Eskimo is a Magnum-like ice cream. I don’t know why. Maybe the French have a freaky sense of humour too.
JOSH: L’après-midi, Chantal prend un bain de soleil. Laurent prend beaucoup de photos de sa petite amie. He takes lots of photos of his... small friend?! Now I really am freaked out.
CLAIRE: You know, British people have never said that out loud. I’m sure they’ve thought it before but... No, small friend just means girlfriend. Bizarre I know.
DONNA: You left out what Chantal says to Laurent... Ca suffit maintenant... What’s that mean?
CLAIRE: It means, that’s enough. A phrase that may come in useful in your relationship, I’m sensing...
JOSH: Hey. I’m feeling like the victim again.
DONNA: I’ll make it up to you later.
CLAIRE: Erm...
DONNA: Sorry. Nine years, you know!
CLAIRE: I don’t think there’s anyone in Washington who doesn’t know. I’m not sure how much French I’ve taught you, but looks like we’re out of time...
JOSH: (unconvincingly) Shame.
DONNA: Don’t listen to him. It’s been fun.
JOSH: Just ‘cause you got the star.
CLAIRE: You wear that star with pride, girl.
Josh and Donna stand up, gather their things and walk to the door. At the door:
CLAIRE: And don’t forget to learn those –re verbs for next time!
JOSH: (walking off) Yeah yeah...
DONNA: He enjoys it really. It's all an "I'm too cool for this" act. Don’t worry, I’ll keep him on track.
CLAIRE: I hear you’re good at that.
They exchange a knowing smile.
At the door, Sam is waiting to go in.
DONNA: Hey, Sam. That was fun. Has set me up for the day more than any muffins or bagels ever could.
SAM: Fun! I don’t have time for that. Do you know how many meetings I had Cathy cancel for this?
CLAIRE: Too busy and important to open your mind up to anything other than American culture? Or to learn the world’s most beautiful language?
SAM: Oh. You speak English.
JOSH: British English, though. Watch out for that... (pats him on the back as they walk out)
Apologies to a coyple of my students, who may recognise themselves!
Josh and Donna are having a French lesson with Claire, the bilingual Brit who likes lessons to be fun but can get strict when she needs to.
CLAIRE: Okay, firstly a game.
JOSH: A game?
CLAIRE: Yes, Josh. Games are useful for relaxing you, preparing you to learn and helping you access your inner French boy.
JOSH: I sure as hell don’t have one of those.
CLAIRE: We’ll see.
DONNA: Come on Josh, behave yourself. Teacher knows best and all that.
CLAIRE: So, let’s start with “Pass the Bomb”.
JOSH: Bomb?
DONNA: She means “bomb”, Josh. It’s British English.
JOSH: So we’re learning two languages?
DONNA: Josh, what’s up with you? You were really into doing this.
JOSH: Just busy that’s all. Bit stressed.
CLAIRE: Well think of these lessons as part counselling. I can slot that into my job description.
DONNA: Two for the price of one. Nice one. Some people round here could do with a bit of counselling. Hey, Josh?
JOSH: Yeah, yeah
CLAIRE: So, with this game, I give you a vocab card, like this one, that says “beach”, and you have to name as many things as possible that you can find on a beach, and pass the bomb along as you say it. Whoever it explodes on has lost the point.
DONNA: (smug, guessing she is going to win) I like this.
JOSH: How did you even get a “bomb” (mocking her British accent) past security?
CLAIRE: Erm... ‘cause it’s not a real “bomb” (mocking his American accent)?
JOSH: Can we not just name some words without keeping score?
CLAIRE: You don’t like games?
DONNA: He doesn’t like to lose.
JOSH: Which isn’t a problem, because I don’t lose.
DONNA: Oh no. I think we might be heading for another unbearable day.
CLAIRE: No muffins or bagels, I’m afraid. But I do have some coloured stars for the winner.
DONNA: (excitedly) Stars – that’s so cool!
Josh raises his eyebrows.
CLAIRE: And people think gold stars only work on kids...
JOSH: You have gold stars?
CLAIRE: Purple and pink ones too...
DONNA: You;re way cooler than my French teacher at school.
CLAIRE: (smiling) I try my best. Busy people like you, it’s important you enjoy these lessons. Otherwise you won’t learn much, and I figure I’ll get ditched the minute another meeting needs booking in. Plus, I can help you relieve the, erm, tension (looking at Josh) from the rest of the day. Anyway. let’s get started. Things you find in a school...
---
Cut to another scene, then come back later at the end of reading a passage. Josh is weaker on grammar , but speaks with conviction – has a brilliant accent he acquired by mimicking Francophones speaking English, then substituting the English words for French ones. It works by the way – I recommend it! Donna’s understanding and grasp of grammar is however vastly superior, as you might expect.
JOSH: Ils prennent l’appareil photo, les maillots de bain et une serviette.
CLAIRE : Okay, very exciting text I know… Could we have a go at translating it ?
JOSH: So basically they get to the beach, and make out.
CLAIRE: Raises eyebrows Which word in particular is “make out”?
JOSH: Well, look at the picture!
CLAIRE: True. All good language teachers will tell you to use all of the context you can to help you get to your meaning. And they do appear to be unfeasibly close.
DONNA: Unfeasibly close?
CLAIRE: (smiling) I don’t this she’s his assistant, Donna.
JOSH: And then she takes her swimsuit off and he takes photos?
CLAIRE: Okay, keep your fantasies to yourself please...
JOSH: (softly, to Donna, with a playful, tender smile) – memories, not fantasies...
CLAIRE: You are aware that I understand American English?
DONNA: (a little embarrassed) I’m sorry about him.
CLAIRE: (smiles reassuringly , actually quite enjoying herself) It’s okay.
DONNA: In his defence, in the picture she is swinging her swimsuit around and he is holding his camera.
CLAIRE: (looks at picture and laughs) You know, no one’s ever picked up on that before, and it’s a fair point. Okay, next page.
JOSH: Sur la plage, un jeune garçon...
DONNA : (a little more violently than the situation requires) Hey ! It’s my turn to read !
CLAIRE: I think she wants to read...
DONNA: And they say women aren’t clear.
JOSH: Sorry about her. So...
DONNA: ...bossy?
JOSH: Among other things... (cheeky look)
DONNA: I was always indispensible, and you hated that.
CLAIRE: Not that I’m not enjoying being part of this discussion, but could we have a go at reading the text? If it’s not going to cause marital strife...
DONNA: Not yet. There’s a crucial element of that missing yet...
JOSH: Donna...
CLAIRE: (never one to miss such a hint) Oooh, can I come? I’ve never been to a White House wedding!
DONNA: We don’t know yet if it’s going to be a White House wedding.
JOSH: Erm, Donna... we don’t know yet if there’s going to be a wedding. (Donna glares at him. He swallows.) I mean, there is, obviously. But are there any elements in our relationship that we can keep surprising these days?
DONNA: (suggestively) Oh, I think there are.
CLAIRE: (Coughs). Would you like me to leave the room?
JOSH: Sorry. This is all still new to us.
CLAIRE: Was it one of those bound to happen someday things?
DONNA: Very much so. Even if this one had trouble seeing it coming. Or dealing with it when it did come.
JOSH: That's a bit rich, coming from Miss "I don't want to talk I just want to win the election"!
DONNA: Sorry about him.
JOSH: Hey! Would you like me to leave the room so you can carry on discussing me?
DONNA: Yeah, that’d be cool. Thanks, Joshua.
JOSH: No way. I’m here to learn French.
CLAIRE: (to Josh): that's the spirit. (to Donna) Coffee later?
DONNA: Sounds like a plan. You have my email address right?
CLAIRE: Yup. Anyway, Donna, your turn to read...
DONNA: Sur la plage, un jeune garçon vend des glaces. Laurent et Chantal achètent chacun un esquimau.
JOSH : An Eskimo ? They buy an Eskimo?
DONNA: What is it, like buy an Eskimo and set them free day?
JOSH: There’s that freaky sense of humour again.
DONNA: Yeah, and half of it you still don’t get. Even after all this time.
CLAIRE: An Eskimo is a Magnum-like ice cream. I don’t know why. Maybe the French have a freaky sense of humour too.
JOSH: L’après-midi, Chantal prend un bain de soleil. Laurent prend beaucoup de photos de sa petite amie. He takes lots of photos of his... small friend?! Now I really am freaked out.
CLAIRE: You know, British people have never said that out loud. I’m sure they’ve thought it before but... No, small friend just means girlfriend. Bizarre I know.
DONNA: You left out what Chantal says to Laurent... Ca suffit maintenant... What’s that mean?
CLAIRE: It means, that’s enough. A phrase that may come in useful in your relationship, I’m sensing...
JOSH: Hey. I’m feeling like the victim again.
DONNA: I’ll make it up to you later.
CLAIRE: Erm...
DONNA: Sorry. Nine years, you know!
CLAIRE: I don’t think there’s anyone in Washington who doesn’t know. I’m not sure how much French I’ve taught you, but looks like we’re out of time...
JOSH: (unconvincingly) Shame.
DONNA: Don’t listen to him. It’s been fun.
JOSH: Just ‘cause you got the star.
CLAIRE: You wear that star with pride, girl.
Josh and Donna stand up, gather their things and walk to the door. At the door:
CLAIRE: And don’t forget to learn those –re verbs for next time!
JOSH: (walking off) Yeah yeah...
DONNA: He enjoys it really. It's all an "I'm too cool for this" act. Don’t worry, I’ll keep him on track.
CLAIRE: I hear you’re good at that.
They exchange a knowing smile.
At the door, Sam is waiting to go in.
DONNA: Hey, Sam. That was fun. Has set me up for the day more than any muffins or bagels ever could.
SAM: Fun! I don’t have time for that. Do you know how many meetings I had Cathy cancel for this?
CLAIRE: Too busy and important to open your mind up to anything other than American culture? Or to learn the world’s most beautiful language?
SAM: Oh. You speak English.
JOSH: British English, though. Watch out for that... (pats him on the back as they walk out)
Monday 17 August 2009
Scene from Episode #202 (In the shadow of two gunmen, part 2)
Somewhere in New Hampshire, Governor Bartlet is finishing off a rousing speech about education and its importance if America is to continue on the path to greatness destined for her by the Founding Fathers. Everyone’s pride is hitting record heights.
SAM: (to Josh) I wrote that.
JOSH: Sam, I know.
SAM: I mean I wrote that.
JOSH: Sam, I know. We’re all very proud of you. (he pats Sam slightly patronisingly but a little proudly on the back. Nods towards the Governor and says to Donna and Sam who are standing against the wall with him) Doing great out there, isn’t he?
DONNA: (far-away , dreamy look on her face) Hmmm?
JOSH: Donnatella? (nudges her)
SAM: Josh, leave her be. She’s in that place.
DONNA: (suddenly interested) What place?
SAM: The place where you pinch yourself wondering how you got to be here and feeling huge pride and deep humility all at the same time.
DONNA: (looks at Sam as though he’s lost his mind.) Nah. Actually I was just wondering what I was going to have for dessert tonight.
JOSH: (chuckles and smiles tenderly) You’re quite something, you know that?
DONNA: (beams back) So I’ve been told a number of times. Most of them by you.
SAM: Honestly, guys, get a room.
DONNA: Huh?
JOSH: (shoots him a look that says, “Sam, I’m warning you...”)
SAM: Do it quick before we’re in office. Less scandalous that way. (goes off to remind CJ that he wrote the speech Bartlet is delivering so rousingly)
DONNA: Josh? What’s he talking about?
JOSH: Hmmm?
DONNA: Josh?
JOSH: He’s under the impression there may be some kind of romantic tension between us.
DONNA: Are you under that impression too?
JOSH: Are you?
DONNA: I asked first.
Governor Bartlet finished his speech and everyone stands to their feet. It’s a moving moment. The conversation is interrupted. Sam hugs CJ and we see him mouthing “I wrote that!”. Josh, without thinking, hugs Donna, breathes her in.
They pull away.
DONNA: Do you think this might be an example of what Sam meant?
JOSH: (smiles) Maybe.
DONNA: Do you think we shouldn’t do that anymore?
JOSH: When we’re in office? Yeah. (Donna looks disappointed.) Well, maybe not.
DONNA: Josh, Sam doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’m your assistant. Nothing can happen between us. We’re clear on that, right?
JOSH: Of course. Even if both wanted it to. (long lingering look) So it’s all nice and clear.
DONNA: Mmm. Yeah. (To herself) Clear, anyway.
SAM: (to Josh) I wrote that.
JOSH: Sam, I know.
SAM: I mean I wrote that.
JOSH: Sam, I know. We’re all very proud of you. (he pats Sam slightly patronisingly but a little proudly on the back. Nods towards the Governor and says to Donna and Sam who are standing against the wall with him) Doing great out there, isn’t he?
DONNA: (far-away , dreamy look on her face) Hmmm?
JOSH: Donnatella? (nudges her)
SAM: Josh, leave her be. She’s in that place.
DONNA: (suddenly interested) What place?
SAM: The place where you pinch yourself wondering how you got to be here and feeling huge pride and deep humility all at the same time.
DONNA: (looks at Sam as though he’s lost his mind.) Nah. Actually I was just wondering what I was going to have for dessert tonight.
JOSH: (chuckles and smiles tenderly) You’re quite something, you know that?
DONNA: (beams back) So I’ve been told a number of times. Most of them by you.
SAM: Honestly, guys, get a room.
DONNA: Huh?
JOSH: (shoots him a look that says, “Sam, I’m warning you...”)
SAM: Do it quick before we’re in office. Less scandalous that way. (goes off to remind CJ that he wrote the speech Bartlet is delivering so rousingly)
DONNA: Josh? What’s he talking about?
JOSH: Hmmm?
DONNA: Josh?
JOSH: He’s under the impression there may be some kind of romantic tension between us.
DONNA: Are you under that impression too?
JOSH: Are you?
DONNA: I asked first.
Governor Bartlet finished his speech and everyone stands to their feet. It’s a moving moment. The conversation is interrupted. Sam hugs CJ and we see him mouthing “I wrote that!”. Josh, without thinking, hugs Donna, breathes her in.
They pull away.
DONNA: Do you think this might be an example of what Sam meant?
JOSH: (smiles) Maybe.
DONNA: Do you think we shouldn’t do that anymore?
JOSH: When we’re in office? Yeah. (Donna looks disappointed.) Well, maybe not.
DONNA: Josh, Sam doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’m your assistant. Nothing can happen between us. We’re clear on that, right?
JOSH: Of course. Even if both wanted it to. (long lingering look) So it’s all nice and clear.
DONNA: Mmm. Yeah. (To herself) Clear, anyway.
Friday 14 August 2009
Scene from Episode #803 (where we meet Claire, the French tutor)
Episode #803, in which we meet Claire, the French tutor from the often-disparaged "Benelux" who turns out to be more of a central character than we might think. She may well be played by me!! Well, a girl can dream...
Sam and Josh are walking down the corridor towards the coffee machine.
SAM: (flatly and slightly incredulously) Twitter.
JOSH: (equally flatly) Yes.
SAM: Twitter?
JOSH: Yes. We’ve moved on from pagers and carrier pigeons since you were last around.
SAM: And you’ve got time to be on Twitter.
JOSH: Have to keep in touch with the fans... After all that Lemon Lyman stuff. Nah, seriously, Donna found her.
SAM: Oh great. So now we’re having French lessons with someone your girlfriend found on Twitter?
JOSH: Can we not call her my girlfriend?
Josh and Sam arrive by the coffee machine, where Donna is pouring herself a cup. She looks pointedly yet smilingly at Josh.
JOSH: (Tenderly) Hey. (Suddenly worried) What are you doing here? I mean, to what do we owe the pleasure...
DONNA: The coffee’s better this end. And I had a message from you. And since the carrier pigeons are on strike...
JOSH: You know what I meant, right?
DONNA: Yes, Josh. I understand that the word “girlfriend” represents a commitment level to which you are not yet accustomed. That’s okay.
JOSH: (looks at her as though she’s lost her mind) No. I’m way past that point. You know that, right? Ready to call you plenty of better things. (Sam raises his eyebrows and Donna looks down and smiles.) I just think it’s important that people remember your intrinsic worth as a person rather than just attaching you to me.
DONNA: That’s very sweet, Joshua, but I was your “assistant” for eight years... I think people are used to the fact I have my own brain despite my association with you.
JOSH: (quizzically, trying to work out if that was an insult) So what was the message anyway?
DONNA: What message?
SAM: (to no one in particular) I knew it. No message. They just can’t keep away from each other. Ugh.
DONNA: First of all, this. (leans over and kisses him.) Although that wasn’t from the First Lady. That was all me.
JOSH: I prefer it that way.
SAM: (Impressed “she’s got you well-trained” kind of smile) Good answer. Though I wish you’d get to the point.
DONNA: She’d like some of her staff to take French lessons too.
SAM: And you couldn't have told us that over email?
JOSH: (Silences Sam with a look) Okay.
SAM: You’re all out of your tiny minds. No one around here has time for language lessons.
DONNA: It’s good for you, Sam. Opens you up to the rest of the world. An hour a week, that’s all.
SAM: Yeah, but I bet she’ll have us doing homework too.
JOSH: It’s for your own good. Might help our reputation with other nations. You know, make us seem less arrogant.
SAM: I’m sorry, are we talking about French lessons for you, or a personality transplant?
JOSH: (wry smile) Send me an email with all the info. Anything else?
DONNA: Nothing that can’t wait till later. (Suggestive look, and grin)
JOSH: (a twinkle in his eye) I’ll look forward to that, then.
SAM: Ugh. You two are unbearable.
DONNA: Two words, Sam. Nine Years.
Sam and Josh are walking down the corridor towards the coffee machine.
SAM: (flatly and slightly incredulously) Twitter.
JOSH: (equally flatly) Yes.
SAM: Twitter?
JOSH: Yes. We’ve moved on from pagers and carrier pigeons since you were last around.
SAM: And you’ve got time to be on Twitter.
JOSH: Have to keep in touch with the fans... After all that Lemon Lyman stuff. Nah, seriously, Donna found her.
SAM: Oh great. So now we’re having French lessons with someone your girlfriend found on Twitter?
JOSH: Can we not call her my girlfriend?
Josh and Sam arrive by the coffee machine, where Donna is pouring herself a cup. She looks pointedly yet smilingly at Josh.
JOSH: (Tenderly) Hey. (Suddenly worried) What are you doing here? I mean, to what do we owe the pleasure...
DONNA: The coffee’s better this end. And I had a message from you. And since the carrier pigeons are on strike...
JOSH: You know what I meant, right?
DONNA: Yes, Josh. I understand that the word “girlfriend” represents a commitment level to which you are not yet accustomed. That’s okay.
JOSH: (looks at her as though she’s lost her mind) No. I’m way past that point. You know that, right? Ready to call you plenty of better things. (Sam raises his eyebrows and Donna looks down and smiles.) I just think it’s important that people remember your intrinsic worth as a person rather than just attaching you to me.
DONNA: That’s very sweet, Joshua, but I was your “assistant” for eight years... I think people are used to the fact I have my own brain despite my association with you.
JOSH: (quizzically, trying to work out if that was an insult) So what was the message anyway?
DONNA: What message?
SAM: (to no one in particular) I knew it. No message. They just can’t keep away from each other. Ugh.
DONNA: First of all, this. (leans over and kisses him.) Although that wasn’t from the First Lady. That was all me.
JOSH: I prefer it that way.
SAM: (Impressed “she’s got you well-trained” kind of smile) Good answer. Though I wish you’d get to the point.
DONNA: She’d like some of her staff to take French lessons too.
SAM: And you couldn't have told us that over email?
JOSH: (Silences Sam with a look) Okay.
SAM: You’re all out of your tiny minds. No one around here has time for language lessons.
DONNA: It’s good for you, Sam. Opens you up to the rest of the world. An hour a week, that’s all.
SAM: Yeah, but I bet she’ll have us doing homework too.
JOSH: It’s for your own good. Might help our reputation with other nations. You know, make us seem less arrogant.
SAM: I’m sorry, are we talking about French lessons for you, or a personality transplant?
JOSH: (wry smile) Send me an email with all the info. Anything else?
DONNA: Nothing that can’t wait till later. (Suggestive look, and grin)
JOSH: (a twinkle in his eye) I’ll look forward to that, then.
SAM: Ugh. You two are unbearable.
DONNA: Two words, Sam. Nine Years.
Disclaimer
Please note that no copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this site. The characters and all quotes belong to Aaron Sorkin, Warner Bros, NBC, et al. This blog is a tribute to the wonderfulness of the West Wing, the brilliantly portrated and eminently lovable characters of Josh and Donna, and the breathtaking acting of Bradley Whitford and Janel Moloney. I love you guys. Thanks for the hours of entertainment, laughter, tears and tantalising tension!!
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