The National Library - A West Wing Fanfiction Archive

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Water Balloons and the Big Question

by: Ginny

Category: Post-ep to The Women of Qumar
Pairing: Josh/Donna
Characters: Josh and Donna
Rating: YTEEN

I somehow manage to hold myself together until after Amy waves and goes back into her office. As I turn to hail another cab I realize just how badly I am shaking. I haven't felt like this since I hit the doorframe at the hotel in Manchester. I walk around the fountain a few times trying to take some deep breaths. It is only helping a little so I decide to walk back to the White House. Since I left without telling Donna where I was going I call to say I am on my way back from Amy's office and I am going to walk. Donna, bless her heart, doesn't ask why. She just thanks me for calling to let her know where I am.

The walk helps a little and I am more under control by the time I walk back into the West Wing. But I know I need to get to my office in a hurry without running into a whole bunch of people. I manage to make it there pretty undetected. Donna is on the phone when I go by her "street corner". I wave with a smile plastered on my face and close my office door behind me.

Standing with my back against the wall I try to come up with some excuse I can give Donna to explain why I look like crap. I don't quite think of one before she throws open the door and nearly breaks my nose. She takes one look at me and steers me towards the couch. I sit down while she gathers up my things, packs my backpack and shuts down her computer.

"Josh let's go. I'll take you home." she says in that voice that leaves no rooming for arguing.

I think I nod off on the car. I have almost stopped shaking as she pulls into the parking space. I slowly follow her up the stairs and into the apartment.

I change into some sweats and flop down on the couch without a word. Donna just lets me be while she makes herself busy, probably by cleaning something in the kitchen.

She checks on me twice but I pretend to be asleep both times. I feel her press a hand against my forehead checking for a fever the first time. The second time she perches on the edge of the couch and holds my hand for a minute. Don't really think she believes I am asleep but she lets me think that I am fooling her.

I come to the conclusion that throwing a water balloon from 2 stories up at a person who has been shot isn't such a good idea. Throwing it at a person who has been shot and is still troubled by PTSD is a really bad idea.

While I am on the couch I manage to calm down from the water balloon incident and get all worried...confused...annoyed about the thing Amy said. The thing about me needing to be hit over the head.

Hey, I admit, when it comes to love, I usually do need to be hit over the head. It's true; I do tumble into a girl sideways and hope that sooner or later she breaks up with me.

So Amy's comment leads me to a question...a big question.

Was Amy hitting me over the head cause she likes me...or...was she hitting me over the head so I would realize what's right in front of me. Or rather, in my kitchen, 15 feet from me.

Amy and I go back many, many years. We met in college and we've been friends off and on since then. Hence the nickname, which by the way, I'm not crazy about. We dated a few times but nothing ever really came of it. We run in the same general circle, although it is obvious she hears more rumors from that circle than I do.

I have never, ever, heard a rumor about Donna and I. Actually I find that strange in a way. Not that there are rumors but that I've never heard any of them. I wonder if Donna's heard them? That's not the kind of thing I can just ask her, though.

I jump at the feeling of someone touching my arm. I roll over suddenly and find Donna kneeling on the floor next to the couch. It takes me a minute to realize I'm in my own living room. I must have dozed off for a while.

"Josh, take it easy, it's just me. Why don't you go to bed, you need to get a decent night's sleep." she asks as she tentatively reaches out and brushes back my hair.

"I was just, uh, resting for a minute. I have some stuff to get done before I go to bed."

"OK. You need anything?"

"Advil and a glass of water."

She nods her head and leaves the room. I drag myself up to a sitting position, intent on reading over some information on Mad Cow Disease and the oppression of the women in Qumar that is currently littering my coffee table.

Donna comes back in a minute later with Advil and water. "Rough day?" she asks as she sits down next to me.

"Thanks, and yeah, I did have a rough day. And I appreciate the great restraint you showed when it came to not asking me what was wrong when I came back from Amy's office."

"Yeah, I deserve a medal for that one. But you could have at least explained why you were wet."

"Well, I have to have some secrets, Donnatella." I say, rather lamely.

"Josh..."

I cut her off with a finger against her lips. She gives me a sad smile and a look I've seen all too often in the past year and a half. The look that says 'I know something is wrong and I really wish I didn't have to drag it out of you."

"I'm fine, please, I don't want to talk about it."

She gives me yet another sad smile.

"Thanks for everything."

"You're welcome. But Josh...I didn't do anything."

"Yeah, you did. You were there for me, you dragged me out of the office and you didn't pry. I couldn't ask for anything more."

"OK. You want me to stay?"

"Nah, go home."

She studies me for another minute, trying to decide if I'm going to put my hand through the window the minute she leaves me. She holds in her question as long as she can before she finally spits it out.

"Josh, whatever happened tonight, was it a...were you...did you...should I make an appointment with..."

"A PTSD episode? Yeah, probably. Do I need to go see my shrink, probably. Am I going to hurt myself, no, definitely not. I swear, if I need anything I'll call. I promise."

Donna watches with amusement as I kiss my fingers and cross my heart.

"OK. I believe you. Promise you'll get some sleep too."

"I will. I'm going to take a shower, read for a little while and then go to bed."

Donna watches me for another minute before deciding it is OK to leave me alone. She kisses my forehead and leaves without looking back.

I take a hot shower to relax but it doesn't really help. Neither does reading about Mad Cow or Qumar.

So now it's getting late and I'm alone and a little jumpy. I am no closer to an answer to my question than I was a few hours ago. I'm just a few hours older, not any wiser and still nursing a headache. I figure Donna's still up, it's not that late. May I should call her.

And say what?

Hey, Donna care to hit me over the head?

Or, hey Donna, let me tumble into you sideways but please don't break up with me?

God, I think I need some sleep.

THE END

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