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.

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...

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