Still Standing

by: Allison

Character(s): Josh, Donna
Pairing(s): Josh/Donna
Category(s): Romance
Rating: TEEN
Summary: Sequel to Great Expectations

Josh was looking out the window when his office door slammed hard. Very hard.

Without turning around he said, "I don't suppose that's Sam wanting to talk about Kazakhstan some more?" He was answered with dead silence. "Toby? Leo?" He paused. "At this point I'm beginning to think even C.J. wanting to kill me for something might be preferable to -" He was hit in the back of the head by a flying shoe. "Donna."

"I don't know why C.J. would want to kill you," she seethed, "but she's not going to get the chance. You know why?"

He kept his face turned safely to the window. Where he could yell for help if necessary. "Because you're going to get there first?"

"I am so going to get there first." Another shoe ricocheted off his back and he winced.

He turned around slowly, hands up. "You must be out of shoes by now, so I figure I'm safe." Oh. Oh. He couldn't resist. No one could resist. The corners of his mouth turned up. "Unless you've got another one in your skirt somewhere." Ouch. He had misjudged her distance from the package of index cards on his desk.

"I could absolutely kill you right now," she fumed, taking another step into the office.

"I'm pretty sure there are federal agents outside," he replied, backing away.

"You're not the President. I don't think killing you would be a federal crime."

"You should take that up with the last guy who tried," he joked weakly.

"Do not pull that on me, Joshua!" she yelled, advancing further with her hands on her hips. "It's not going to work this time. Not after you deliberately humiliated me in public and *enjoyed it*!"

"I humiliated you?" he replied. "I would have thought you took care of that yourself when you gave a reporter your underwear." He ducked and covered his head as she hurled a doorstop wildly in his direction. "Missed that time, there."

"Did you have to do that out in the bullpen?" she asked, her voice dropping enough that he could hear real hurt and embarrassment under the screaming. "In front of Sam and C.J. and who knows who else? What horrible thing have I done to you today that you found that necessary?"

He was beginning to sense that he'd made a serious tactical error. "Look, Donna," he began, stepping toward her. "Whoa - don't throw that, I'm trying to apologize here." After she had reluctantly put down the TV remote he continued. "I'm sorry. I - thought it was funny. I really didn't think it would upset you that much."

"No, thinking seems to have had very little place in your actions," she retorted angrily. At least she'd stopped trying to kill him.

"Well, to tell the truth I wasn't thinking all that much," he replied defensively. "You know why? Because I was a little caught off guard. Believe it or not, usually when I get sent an envelope registered mail at the White House I don't expect it to contain my assistant's underwear!" He had rather forgotten by the end of that speech that it wasn't really her fault and his voice had risen. "I mean, God, Donna, for a second there I thought it was from some sleazy aide or something who'd seduced you so he could blackmail us."

She took a step back. It was interesting, he considered in the pause, how space functioned in their relationship. "You thought I would allow myself to be seduced by 'some sleazy aide' who wanted to blackmail us?"

He held up both hands again in a defensive posture. "Okay, Donna, fear is irrational. It was the first thing that popped into my head. And like three seconds later I read Karen's note and found out the truth."

"Which is that I clearly can't dress myself without creating a political scandal." Donna sank onto his couch and buried her face in her hands.

He began to suspect that she wasn't really mad at him so much as she was mad at herself and more humiliated than he'd expected. He approached the couch slowly. "Donna, it really isn't that bad. Karen Cahill's a hard nut to crack, but she's not vicious. I don't think it's in her plan for the day to publicly trash some poor assistant who was just trying to do her job." He sat down cautiously next to her. "Have you run out of things to throw?"

She gave a short, ironic laugh and nodded, her hand pressed tightly over her mouth. Some smooth work was clearly going to be needed here. He settled back on the couch, careful not to touch her. He looked, in fact, straight ahead at the wall in front of them as he spoke. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

Donna fixed him with a disbelieving gaze.

"Okay, I did. But only a little. No more than it embarrassed Sam when you teased him about falling down with Karen. I - was trying to joke with you, and I misjudged, and I'm sorry."

She looked up with a wry smile. "You're not just saying that because I'm sitting next to a box of staplers from the supply room?"

"No, I'm not - Jesus, Donna!" What she had said registered and he vaulted off the couch. "You got the part where I apologized, right?"

Her eyes crinkled up and she laughed. He sighed with relief. "Okay, you got me." He sat back down beside her and they stayed for a while in silence. Donna buried her face in her arms on the edge of the couch and rested there for a moment, just breathing and trying to calm herself down. Josh watched her when he knew she couldn't see him anymore. In all honesty, he had no idea what had been going through his mind. Things with Donna had been so odd lately - she'd been her usual sarcastic self, but it was the wrong kind of sarcasm. She had two kinds - the bantering kind where he got the impression she was trying to make him laugh, and the barely restrained anger kind where she just made him sound like an idiot. The sarcasm of the last few days had been more of the second type, and that made him uncomfortable. Donna only brought out the biting sarcasm when she was mad at him for some reason. That, coupled with the fact that lately Sam had been getting a great deal of the friendly bantering sarcasm from her, made him - displeased. He wasn't quite ready to admit to jealous, but certainly displeased. Where, after all, had Cathy been when Sam needed a fix on the Karen thing or an ego boost? Why did he need Josh's assistant?

Okay, he knew he was being stupid. Sam and Donna were friends, and had become more so lately. This was only natural. They were - were they actually closer in age than Sam and Josh? He calculated quickly. Seven years between him and Sam, six between Sam and Donna. Yes, they were closer in age. By a statistically insignificant amount, but - he could practically feel C.J. smacking him. Enough with the math. He'd been feeling a little left out, he didn't know what to make of Donna lately - or of their relationship, and he'd accidentally hurt her. This needed a fix.

He lifted a hand and hesitated. Bad idea or good idea? They weren't exactly touchy people - but then, the physical thing had probably been precedented by his spending the night in her bed. And kissing her. He pushed that thought right out of his mind and reached up to rub her back gently. "Donna?"

She didn't look at him, but kept her head buried in her arms. "Yeah?"

Some humor was clearly needed. "Put down the stapler."

He could feel her body shake as she laughed. Part of his conversation with C.J. the other day came back to him - she really did get into his head at the most inconvenient times. *Sometimes you actually say the right thing,* she'd said. Well, she was right. And after all, he was Donna's boss and basically a friend - yeah, they were pretty casual with each other, as the underwear episode so ably proved - it was only natural for him to be a little protective. He stopped rubbing her back and slid his hand up to her shoulder. "I really am sorry. And I'm sure it won't be a thing." When she didn't reply he bit the bullet and tugged on her shoulder, saying, "Come here."

She didn't resist and let him pull her into his arms, settling her head against his shoulder. "I promise to try not to humiliate you in public again," he said.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You promise to try?"

"On the other hand," he continued as if he hadn't heard her, "that horrified look on your face was pretty cute."

"You're only holding me to keep me away from the staplers, aren't you?"

He took a deep breath. She was joking, but if he really wanted to know whether C.J. was right this was his chance. He tightened his arm around her just enough to be noticeable. "I'm holding you," he said after a pause, "because this is much nicer than fighting with Sam about Kazakhstan." He waited.

She took a deep breath. He felt her chest heave. "Really?" she asked in a small voice that was rather unlike her.

The possibility that she might, in fact, have a crush on him had actually begun to penetrate his mind. He decided more reconnaissance was needed. He reached up and stroked her hair back from her face. "Would I have kept you around all this time if I didn't love you?" he asked rhetorically, almost holding his breath and trying not to trip over the phrase.

Donna bit her lip, weighing her choices. He was either going out on a sincere limb here, or he was just being casual and, well, Josh. She decided not to take her chances. Humor always worked for them, anyway. "Josh, you've fired me thirty-seven times."

"Did I ever mean it?"

"I'm still here," she replied, her tone enigmatic.

He paused. "You counted?"

"It's actually thirty-nine if you count the times you were asleep."

"I fired you in my sleep?"

"Twice," she replied cheerfully. "Falling asleep on your desk really doesn't work for you."

He sat up straighter and turned her around so that she was facing him. "I want you to know I'm sorry," he said seriously, his arms still at her waist.

"For firing me?"

"No. Well, yes. For everything."

Her expression was a little confused, but she smiled. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"I'm forgiven?"

"For the underwear?" She grinned. "Not really. But I'm going to have much more fun punishing you now that I'm less mad."

He had to laugh, but the smile he gave her was a bit rueful. "That's my girl." And, he noted, he still had no idea how she really felt about him. But now he knew why. The way she had used humor to deflect his attempts at conversation told him a lot - it told him that she was too afraid he would laugh at her or reject her if she confessed to having even friendly feelings for him. That also answered an old question - why had she, when she'd obviously been quite upset by his shooting, behaved all that time only as his trusty assistant, rules and all, instead of admitting how devastated she'd been? If C.J. was right, it wasn't because she only thought of him as her boss. It was because it would take a lot to convince her that he thought of her as anything more than his assistant.

The question of the day was - did he?

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

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