True at first light and a lie by noon

At first light when her eyes prised themselves open to the high-pitched insistence of her alarm clock, her first thought was always this: today. Today she would do it. Today, she would walk into his office, close the door, and go to a place called say it. She’d seen that in a TV show and in the TV show it had worked, although it had taken a few episodes for the guy to talk the girl round.

But at first light she always knew there would be no talking round necessary. That he would not speak, and this would be very, very good, because the reason he would not be speaking is that he would pull her close, right up close, that she would feel his breath on her neck and his hand running through her hair and his lips on hers. Or, it would be very, very bad, because the reason he would not be speaking is that he would be sitting at his desk, head tilted, brow furrowed, speechless, silently pleading a God he did not believe in for the ground to swallow them both whole, for this not to be happening.

And always, at first light, it seemed to her that even this unhappy outcome would, in the end, be very, very good, because at least it would all be out there, in the open, un-take-back-able, but they could both breathe again and enjoy the lightness of the cleared air and agree to never mentioning it again and not allowing it to change anything; and it would be done, it would be behind them, they would have survived the moment of truth, and the heavy sense of imminent dread that it needed to happen someday would be gone, vanquished, at last.

And yet, by noon, she’d remembered: experienced afresh the tiny electric shocks that ran through her when he leaned over her to pass her some important files; the unresolved tension that crackled between them and seemed best left undisturbed; the risk, the enormous risk, the terrifying risk of upsetting the balance of their relationship, and for what, in the end? As she sat in his office making notes for a letter or reeling off facts from index cards, she always knew that the pulling-her-to-himself scenario was the unlikeliest of all, and did she want to have to cower in shame and leave this job which for all its grunt-level servitude she adored, the privilege of serving which she adored, this boss whom she adored more, way more, than any of the rest of it?

And so by noon, she was always thinking this: tomorrow. Tomorrow she would tell him.

After Ernest Hemingway (who would, ahem, be delighted, I'm sure, to know that his words were inspiring girlie fan fiction), "True at first light and a lie by noon", with thanks to Janet Fitch for using it in her Writer's Book of Days.

On the plane to Hawaii...

The kiss was deep, hungry, passionate, as all their kisses were, as they were bound to be after all those years of buried yearning.

“Marry me,” said Josh, pausing for breath somewhere over an ocean.

“Okay.”

In her response he recognised the Donna he’d fallen for so long ago, the Donna whose beautiful smile and half-amused eyes had suggested such tenderness and a hint of pleasure when he’d suggested putting her on a stamp, the Donna who humoured him because sometimes – always - that was easiest.

“Okay?” He smiled back, perplexed and amused himself. This was her response?

“Josh,” she said, suddenly serious, and that slightly scolding tone he recognised too.

“Of course I’ll marry you. Tomorrow on a beach in Hawaii, if you like.”

He leant in; she pulled away.

“Of course I’ll marry you if you ask me again. But I want you to have a chance to really think about it. It’s all happened so fast... “

“Nine years is what you call fast?”

“You’re not really going to try to suggest I was the one taking my time, are you?”

"No," he said, appropiately repentant, he hoped.

“Josh.” Not repentant enough, apparently. She’d pulled away again. “I want you to think about it long and hard first.”

“You think it’s not crossed my mind in the last nine years?”

“Has it?”

“Of course. Hell, we were practically married anyway.”

“Except for the good part.” She was grinning like a schoolgirl; couldn’t help it. Words like good and nice were hardly up to the task.

“Yeah. And that is, to be fair, a very important part.”

“Keep talking.”

“Donna...”

“Or, you know, not talking. The other thing is good too.”

Then he was the one who pulled away, just slightly, whispered into her ear. “I’ll get you an amazing ring, I promise... and we can have lots of curly-haired, dimpled children. I know how you love the dimples.”

“Okay,” she said again, wondering if she hadn't tripped over something and stumbled into some kind of freaky alternative universe where all her daydreams actually did come true.

“Okay, you’ll marry me?”

“You think it hasn’t cross my mind in the last nine years?”

This time neither of them pulled away.

The Wedding (Ellie Bartlet's - nobody get excited!!)

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.

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.)

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.

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...

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... )

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.