Better Than Perfect

by: Ygrawn

Character(s): Josh and Donna, with some ensemble
Pairing(s): J/D
Category(s): Romance, Humor
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don’t own Josh and Donna et al. There are references to real people herewith, and I don’t own them either.
Summary: It's Josh and Donna's Assistant Anniversary. Josh has plans. As usual, they don't work.
Author's Note: I’m Australian, and this was begun before Bartlet’s 3rd SotU. This swaps between Josh and Donna’s POV, and starts with Josh’s. And for reasons that will soon become obvious, 17 People and the disputed anniversary didn't happen.

When the bathroom door opens, Donna stands there, and I can’t read her face.

“Charlie,” she says, stepping into the hallway. “You can go in now.”

Charlie throws me a desperate look before he enters.

Donna leans against the wall next to me. I’m afraid to ask, so we lean against the wall in silence for two minutes. “Donna,” I finally prod, unable to go on like this.

She looks at me. “One stripe.” I keep staring at her. “False alarm, Josh.”

I’m about to express my relief, when the bathroom door opens and Zoey and Charlie are standing before us. They don’t look particularly thrilled, but nobody is crying. I think that's a good sign.

“I’m sorry,” Zoey says in a small voice, “For putting everyone through this...”

“Don’t be sorry,” Donna interrupts. “You were right to worry.”

“You don’t have to apologize Zoey,” I add.

“Um...” She looks at Donna. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” They walk down the hall and Zoey pulls Donna into a crushing hug. Their eyes are suspiciously wet. Or not so suspiciously, really.

“Thanks,” Charlie says in his quiet, grave way. Charlie can be so still, sometimes. “The first person I thought of was you.”

“You’re welcome," I say, strangely touched by the sentiment. I don't want to become the Pregnancy Scare Guy, but it's nice that Charlie trusted me so implicitly. "And, hey," I continue, awkwardly, "Just because she’s not...well, you should still talk about it.”

“We will,” he promises.

“Go on then.”

He nods, and collects Zoey, pulling her down the hallway. He stops when he’s a few feet away from me. “Josh?”

“Yes?”

“You knew. You just knew.” He and Zoey disappear around the corner.

Donna eyes are curious, but instead, she says, “We should get back to work.”

“Yeah.” I sigh and look at my watch. “We’ve got twenty-three minutes until the next disaster occurs.”

“You’ll jinx us,” she scolds. “Now Sam's going to come to us and say that he accidentally slept with a call girl. Oh wait, he already did that."

I smile. "C'mon - let's get out of the Residence."

We’re walking down the stairs when I suddenly stop her. We won't be able to do this back in the Third Circle of Hell. Otherwise known as my bullpen.

“Why don’t we sit for a moment?” I ask.

She frowns. “Here...on the stairs?”

I sit on the third step. “Yes.”

"These hundred year old stairs?"

"Well, I'm sure that they were originally part of the White House - it's possible they added during one of the extensions."

Donna sits after a second of hesitation. “Charlie said you knew.”

I look away. “Have I ever talked about my cousin, Rachel?”

“Perfect Rachel?”

I nod. “Yes. Rachel’s two years younger than me, and she was a sophomore at Harvard when I was a senior. We’d have a meal once a week, sort of a family obligation thing, but we didn’t really socialize. Seven weeks before finals she showed up at my door, crying, and rambling incoherently.”

“She was pregnant.”

Donna will never fail to astound me with her perceptiveness.

“Yes. The father...he’d dumped her, and wasn’t interested, and Rachel was terrified about what her parents would say. My aunt Ruth and uncle Jacob are very strict. They would have seen it as bringing-shame-on-the-family-name crap, plus they don’t believe in abortion. She didn’t want her parents to find out.”

Donna guesses what happened. “She had the abortion.”

I nod. “I had no idea what to do, so I put her in the car, forgot about classes, and drove home, because I was sure my mother would know what to do. After she rolled her eyes about her sister-in-law, she organized the appointment, took Rachel there, drove her home, and looked after her. My Dad didn’t say much, but that night, he bought home peanut brittle, because he remembered that it was Rachel’s favourite. He was that kind of guy.”

“What did you do?”

“I stayed and felt useless. Rachel’s annoyed me my whole life, but she was so frightened. It was...” I shrug. “When she was better - physically, at least - we drove back to Cambridge. She was a mess, for ages. She’d burst into tears in the middle of a sentence, during lectures - even in her sleep. She didn’t eat, she wouldn’t talk about it, she refused to get out of bed, and I was the only one who knew what was wrong.

“And the worst part was that I had no idea how to help her. So, I rang my Dad."

"What did he say?"

"He told me to get used it.”

Donna half-smiles. “I wish I’d met your father. He sounds like a wonderful man.”

“He was a pain in the ass,” I tell her without hesitation. “He was demanding, self-centred, and liked the sound of his own voice. But he had compassion and conviction. He had ridiculously high expectations for me, and he never let me off the hook. He never let me take the easy road.”

“Isn’t that what the people who love us are supposed to do?”

I laugh. “Probably. Look at how high my expectations for my friends are.”

“And me?” she asks softly.

“Ah, well, I probably the expect the most from you.”

Donna looks away from me. “Don’t you ever feel...embarrassed about me?”

Okay, I'm sorry. What is she talking about?

********

Josh is staring at me like I’m a moron with four heads (or a Republican), but the thing is, compared to all the other assistants and White House employees, I’m so under-qualified it’s ridiculous.

And this is not fishing for compliments, or being a self-doubting wreck that needs constant reassurance. I’m a different person from the girl who left Dr. Freeride. I know I’m worth a lot to Josh, and that I do this job better than the other hundreds of people who applied to be the Deputy Chief of Staff’s assistant.

But why do you think I make a point of repeating as much trivia as possible in front of Josh? Not just because it irritates him, and that’s who I am, but partly to remind him that I’m just as smart as everyone else in the White House, even though I may not have the piece of paper to prove it.

“Why would I feel embarrassed about you?” Josh asks in his surely-that-wasn't-a-real-question voice.

I shrug. “All the other assistants have degrees...Kathy has a Masters.”

“In Early Modern European History. Only if Sam ever has to write a speech about the concept of the Individual in the development of the Reformation will it be useful.”

“Well, the other day, you were talking to Margaret about the trade practice amendments and she knew what you were talking about.”

“Margaret worked for the ranking Senator on Trade. You know more about parliamentary practice, and playing power politics than they ever will. Look what you did with Stackhouse - that was amazing.”

“Yeah, but...”

“No buts,” he interrupts. “I can’t believe you would think that having a degree makes somebody more intelligent than you are. A degree is not a measure of intelligence. And you know that.”

“But I want one.” I don’t want to be Josh’s assistant for the rest of his life. I want to do what he does.

Josh’s voice softens. “I know.”

“I don’t have a degree and I’m working for the third most powerful man in the Bartlet Administration.”

“Not for,” Josh shakes his head. “With.”

“That’s even worse. I’m an unqualified drop-out who doesn’t know anything about trade practices.”

“Donna, nobody gives a fuck about trade practices. And I don’t know a single person who thinks you’re an idiot. You know two weeks ago, when Bonnie was sick, so I lent you to Toby for half a day?”

“Yes,” I say, uncertain of where this is going, although spending the day with Toby was interesting. Who knew he could speak French and Italian? Even if all he does spout profanity? And that he always buys Sam and Ginger a muffin at morning tea?

“The following day, Toby came into my office and said, ‘Stop complaining so much about Donna. She could do your job without screwing up’.”

I smile. “Toby’s right - I could do your job. But nobody will ever let me.”

“Sure they will. You’re smart. You know it, and I know it. I also know that you’ll get your degree, and you’ll be brilliant at whatever you choose to do. And I’ll sit there and say ‘I hired her before she had a degree, when she had no experience whatsoever in politics’.”

I can see what he’s doing. He's giving me the out, because this is becoming too serious. “So, it’ll be all about you?” I ask.

“Of course,” Josh answers airily. “I gave you your big break, didn’t I?”

“You did. And for all the late nights and weekends I spend here, and for the drunken visits I get at three in the morning, I am eternally grateful for that break.”

“Well, for all the messages I couldn’t read even if I knew Sanskrit, and for all the times you refuse to bring me coffee, I am eternally grateful for giving you that break.”

“I don’t refuse to bring you coffee, Josh. I just don’t do it.”

Josh sighs. “I don’t expect you to bring me coffee because you’re my assistant. It’s a friend thing. Like when I go to get coffee, and I pass CJ’s office and say, ‘CJ, would you like some coffee?’ And she says, ‘Yes, thank you’. And I bring her coffee, because we’re friends and I’m already on my way to the coffee machine.”

I eyeball him. “Josh, you get CJ coffee because you’re frightened of her, and next time you screw up, you want to be able to remind her that you brought her coffee.”

He can’t deny it, and he knows it, so he stands up and clears his throat. “We should get back to work. I hear you’ve got this demanding boss who doesn’t like it when you go missing.”

“Yeah. And I hear you’ve got this disrespectful assistant who gets worried when she can’t find you.”

Josh shakes his head. “She loves it when I disappear. She claims I disrupt her when she’s trying to work. I don't actually know what that's about.”

“She sounds like a pain in the ass assistant,” I grin.

“Nah, I’m Guy with the Best Assistant in the Building.”

********

We walk back down the West Colonnade to the office.

It’s still beautiful outside - the sun is fading to dull gold. I don’t really notice my surroundings. I mean, sure, when we first got here, we were like little children, running around looking at the Blue Room, and the Cross Staircase, and the portraits of JFK, and we finally felt it. The...history of what we were doing.

But literally days after we arrived, the crap started. The late nights, the stress, the in-fighting, leaking, the wheeling and dealing, and suddenly, it didn’t matter that it was the White House. The pretty office didn’t change a single damn thing. The novelty and the idealism and the brilliance couldn’t protect us. It was just as hard - if not harder - and I stopped looking at the place I work.

But it’s truly beautiful. It’s majestic and huge and well...it’s the White House, for God’s sake.

Donna catches my eye and smiles. She understands this feeling because she was with us from the beginning. Just like the rest of us, she fought for this, fought for the belief that we could be here, and do it better than anybody else.

When she could barely remember what day it was - when the hotel rooms began to blur together - she felt, like me, that this the place we needed to be. That’s what we were fighting for.

She reaches for my hand and squeezes it.

I’m feeling peaceful. And that, ladies and gentleman in my mistake.

After condoms, snap health inspections, thirty-four freckles, bureaucracy stalling Donna’s raise, trade practice amendments, Julia, Richard, Joey, Kenny, Andie, Donna being mad at me, Dr. Freeride, the distracting perfume, and Zoey being late, I should have known better.

We’re walking past the Communications Bullpen when it happens.

“Donna!” calls Margaret from the middle of the bullpen, where she’s standing with Kathy, Bonnie, Ginger and Carol.

Donna and I stop up short.

“Yes?” Donna asks warily, sensing trouble.

“You couldn’t tell us?” Margaret demands in an irate tone. “I had to find out from my sister?” This is a side of Margaret I’ve never seen, and frankly, it’s a little scary.

Donna looks at me. “Do you know what they’re talking about?”

I open my mouth to say no.

“And you!” Margaret rounds on me. I close my mouth with a gulp. “Talking about spares," she continues, "And how it was an innocent mistake and you meant to send her flowers. CJ is going to kick your ass when she finds out.”

I’ve never heard Margaret say the word ‘ass’ before.

“But congratulations,” Ginger adds. “We’re so excited for you!”

“We are,” Margaret admits, “And we’re still mad.”

“I’m not mad,” Carol disputes. “But seriously guys - CJ really is going to kill you.”

“And Leo, too,” Kathy adds. “But how long have you two been...”

Donna’s brow is crinkled. “Gone?” she guesses.

Margaret rolls her eyes. “No! You know what we’re talking about.”

“We really don’t,” I reply.

“You’re going to deny this? I have irrefutable proof and you’re going to stand there and deny it outright?” Her voice is on the rise again. “I thought you were my friend!”

“I am your friend, Margaret,” Donna protests. “Deny what?”

“That you and Josh are pregnant,” Margaret yells.

Well, that’s one way to stop a room.

********

“What?” shrieks somebody, at the pitch of a badly injured animal. “You’re what?”

The voice is coming from Toby’s office, and I whip my head around, wondering what’s happened to Toby’s voice box. It’s not Toby. Well, Toby is standing there, but CJ is next to him and she’s the one who spoke.

“You and Josh are...” she can’t finish her sentence. I think she might be hyperventilating.

“Pregnant,” Toby supplies equably.

“Who is?” Sam asks, emerging from his office with a stack of files.

“Josh and Donna,” Kathy tells him.

Sam drops the files and paper goes everywhere. “You're what?”

“You told me it was nothing,” CJ says, getting louder. “Nothing, you said! Absolutely nothing! We’re just friends, you said. You lying...you...you got her pregnant, Joshua!”

“She kind of helped me out with that,” Josh responds without thinking.

“Josh!” My mouth drops open. “I’m not...”

“How did this happen?” Sam demands.

“I thought I gave you the birds and the bees talk last year, son,” Toby says, but disbelief marks his voice.

“Shut up,” Sam replies with surprising viciousness. “When did this...I mean...how...where...what...how...”

“You already said how,” Ginger tells him.

"Thanks," Sam says absently. "Are you going to call it Sam?"

"No," Josh and I say in unison.

"They're having a girl anyway," Bonnie says.

"How do you know?" Sam demands.

"I just know these things," Bonnie says loftily.

"Well, Samantha is a nice name."

"So is Virginia," Ginger offers.

Toby frowns. "What's Virginia got to do with anything?"

"It's my name!" Ginger exclaims. "You know that Toby!"

"I do?"

"Toby!"

CJ starts ranting again. “I’m supposed to tell the press corps that the Deputy Chief of Staff got his assistant pregnant, like I’m telling them the weather?"

“Again,” Josh says, “I maintain that...”

“And then I’m supposed to start talking about financial disclosure like the entire Right isn’t going to attack me with their family values and their workplace relations and the fact that you were screwing your assistant? In the White House, with the Oval Office three doors down the hallway?” CJ leans weakly against Toby’s doorway. I think she really is hyperventilating. “This entire administration is officially screwed. We should all packing up now, because I can’t get us out of this one.”

“You’re my best friend, and you didn’t tell me,” Sam says forlornly.

“Mary Marsh is going to have a field-day,” CJ moans. “She’s going to do her self-righteous act on every television program in the country, in every newspaper from the Post to the Hicksville Clarion. And then we’ll be fired, our careers in politics will be over, and I’ll have to go back to working for film companies that can't make good films.”

“And Ann Stark,” Toby adds, rubbing his forehead. “Ann Stark will gloat because the Republicans will win office for the next five hundred years, and I’ll have to go back to losing elections. Or worse, teaching undergrads how to write.”

“I was typing a memo,” Margaret says, apparently to nobody, “And my sister rang. Margaret, she said, you’ll never guess who I just saw buying a pregnancy test at the drugstore next to Pete’s Deli. Joshua Lyman!”

“You bought it in public!” CJ is advancing on Josh and he cowers behind me. “You bought it where people could see you? Actual people?! Now I can’t even try to deny this!”

Toby speaks up. “Well, you might also have some problems denying it when Donna gives birth to a healthy 9-pound boy, CJ!”

“Girl,” Josh and I automatically correct.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sam asks. “I tell you everything Josh. Well, except for the things Donna tells me, but I even tell you some of them.”

“Hey!” I glare at Sam. “I don’t tell Josh any of the things you tell me.”

“Yes you do,” Josh says.

“You’ll have to find another job, Ginger,” Toby says. “I won’t be able to afford you.”

“I don’t want another job,” Ginger pouts.

“Will you still be able to afford me, Sam?” Kathy asks worriedly.

“Yes,” Sam relies absently. “If I go back to practising corporate law I can afford to hire you and Ginger. And probably Carol, as well.”

“But I like working for CJ,” Carol interjects.

“You won’t like working in the film industry Carole,” CJ tells her assistant. “And that’s where we’re going, all because Josh Lyman couldn’t keep it in his pants.”

“Hang on,” Josh says, “That’s unfair.”

“I’m not pregnant,” I interject.

“You didn’t even tell me you and Donna got together,” Sam adds.

“We haven’t,” Josh replies.

“Five years. Five years until the end of the administration,” CJ says, still advancing on us. “You couldn’t stay away from each other for five years and now Mary Marsh and Ann Stark will gloat.”

"And I'll have to teach undergrads, who have no idea how to correctly employ a semi-colon."

And then they realize.

“You’re not pregnant?” Bonnie asks.

“No,” I affirm. “I’m not. And Josh and I are not together.”

CJ is still glaring. “There was that thing this morning, and now this...”

“But Jane said...”

Josh looks at Margaret. “Jane was wearing a purple dress in the drugstore, and arrived at the counter just as I was leaving?”

Margaret nods. “She said you bought a pregnancy test. Jane wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

I look at Josh helplessly. We can hardly tell them it was for Zoey.

“Ah...” Josh begins, “Well, Donna and I were talking about...about..."

"A friend of mine, who's having a baby," I quickly supply.

"Right," Josh hurriedly agrees. "And then we were talking about pregnancy tests. I thought when you were pregnant the thing turned pink, and Donna said it turned blue. I went and bought one to find out.”

Everyone is staring at us in disbelief.

“You’d tell me right?” Sam appeals to Josh. “If you and Donna did...”

“They’re not going to,” CJ interrupts. “I will chain Josh to his desk. I will make him a soprano in the choir. I will break federal laws, I will take matters into my own hands and damn the consequences before I let that happen.”

Toby nods. "I'll help."

“I didn’t think you were pregnant anyway,” Sam confides, more to himself than us, I think.

“Didn’t think who was pregnant?”

Enter Leo.

********

“Donna and Josh,” Sam says, in that perfectly innocent voice of his. One of these days, Sam is going to meet an ugly, ugly end. And I plan to be there to watch.

“You two are pregnant?!”

Leo bellowing is another way to stop a room.

“No, we’re not,” I hurriedly correct.

“You’re not?!” he bellows again.

“No. That’s good, right?” I ask tentatively.

Leo rounds on his assistant. “I’m sure you’re involved in this somehow.”

Margaret doesn’t try to mount a defence. She know that expression of Leo's. “I was typing that IRS memo, when Jane rang me. And Leo, my sister seems to have the impression that you don’t like her,” she tells her boss conversationally. “I can't imagine why she thinks that. She's only met you four times, and..."

"Margaret!"

"Anyway," the redhead hurries on, "Jane was in the drugstore next to Pete’s Deli, and she walked up to the counter and saw Josh buying a pregnancy test. And well...we assumed that Donna...”

“And why would you assume that?” Leo asks in his deadliest voice.

“Uh...” Ginger begins. “Of all the people Josh could be buying a test for, we thought that Donna...I mean...we had no evidence that...”

“We don’t think they’re going out,” Kathy puts in.

Leo raises an eyebrow. “You don’t think they’re going out, but you thought Josh might have got Donna pregnant?”

“Yes,” Carol confirms. “We weren’t certain they were dating, but we weren’t prepared to rule out the possibility.”

CJ beams at her assistant.

“Thank you for the official White House position,” Leo says sarcastically.

“Actually,” CJ interjects, “The official White House position on staffers’ personal relationships is not to comment on them.”

Donna steps up. The rest of us have struck out. Why not her? “They thought I might be...pregnant, because Josh and I were discussing baby names the other day. A friend of mine is having a baby, and they want to call it Hilda if it’s a girl, and we were talking about it.”

“No you weren’t,” Sam disputes. He realizes what he’s said and starts back-pedalling. “You didn’t discuss it because you argued about it. That’s what you and Josh do - you argue. Sometimes you discuss, but mostly you argue. Like the time that Josh said that...”

“Sam,” Toby thankfully interrupts, “We get it.”

“Well, I certainly don’t,” Leo says, looking directly at me. “Josh, my office. Now!”

Who the hell needs enemies when I’ve got my colleagues and their assistants?

****

When it comes to a dressing-down with Leo, I go in to our meetings carrying my own rope. And when the time comes to be hanged, I hold it up and say, ‘Don’t worry Leo...I’ll do it for you’.

So, whilst I follow Leo into his office, I try hard to psych myself up. I am da man...I can be the ball...I am the ball...it’s all in my mind...I hate sports metaphors.

“Close the door,” Leo orders me. “And tell me what the hell's going on?”

“Nothing,” I repeat, for the four-thousandth time today.

Leo leans against his desk and crosses his arms, displaying his disbelief. “Josh, my Senior Staff and their assistants were just discussing the fact that you and Donna aren’t pregnant. That’s not nothing.”

“It was a misunderstanding that got blown out of proportion. If Donna was pregnant, don’t you think everyone would have noticed?”

“Probably,” Leo admits. “So why were you buying a pregnancy test? And don’t deny it.”

The best defence is a carefully selected and presented version of the truth. “The test was bought on behalf of somebody else. However, I have that person’s confidence and I can’t tell you anything more. That’s the truth.”

Leo holds my gaze and finally nods. “Okay. I believe you.”

“Thank God, because...”

“I’m not finished,” Leo interrupts. “This can’t keep happening, Josh.”

“People think I've knocked Donna up? Because today was the first day anybody's ever..." I trail off when I see Leo's face. "What can’t keep happening?”

“You and Donna. If it’s not condoms, it’s people thinking she’s pregnant. It’s not just today, either.”

“Look, Leo...” I begin.

“I don’t have to tell you that any hint of misconduct between you and Donna is a disaster for this administration. The Republicans would climb all over us, the press would make Donna’s life hell, and your career would be over. Unfortunately, it’s inevitable, Josh. It has been since the second she started working for you.

“I could order you not to do anything with Donna, and you’d try your hardest. Both of you would. But it’d be counter-productive, and more importantly, it wouldn’t stop you thinking it, or wanting it.”

I have to say something. “Leo, Donna and I aren’t...”

“I know. But you can’t tell me there isn’t something between you. I’m an old man Josh, but I remember what it was like. I have to warn you that you and Donna can’t work together if you pursue a romantic relationship.”

I nod. “But even if one of us did leave, people would simply say we worked together once. There’d be questions about how Donna got her job. Not,” I hurriedly continue, “That we’re ever going to pursue any relationship other than our current professional relationship and our friendship.”

“Of course not,” Leo facetiously agrees. “If I get even a hint that there’s something going on whilst she still works for you, you know what I’ll do, Josh.”

“You’ll fire me,” I say evenly, “And give Donna my job.”

Leo tilts his head. “Not a half-bad idea.”

“Leo!”

“I’ll ask for your resignation. If Donna leaves, or moves departments, and you decide to pursue a personal relationship after an appropriate lapse of time, I’ll support you completely.”

“Thank you,” I say softly. “Of course, this is all based on the assumption that there’s even a desire to pursue...” Leo eyeballs me. “Thanks.”

“I’m deadly serious, Josh.”

“I know you are.” Leo would do anything to protect the President. He’d also do anything to protect his staff, which is probably why he looks so torn.

Leo walks over to me, his face softening. “Noah would have liked Donna.”

I nod. “He would have loved her. When my mother rings, she spends more time talking to Donna than to me.”

“Donna sometimes reminds me of Marah.”

“Only sometimes?”

Leo smiles. “Alright, a lot of the time.” He seems to hesitate. “Because Noah isn’t here, I feel I should...just don’t throw this away. For any reason, Josh. Okay?”

“Okay.”

When I was a child, Leo was a gruff, loveable uncle with hundreds of unbelievable stories. He knew things about my parents they didn’t want me knowing. He understood my guilt about Joanie without either of us ever having to say a word.

He listened to my first idealistic and laughable political ideas seriously, and never dismissed them. Leo taught me everything I know, and the only reason I’m any good at what I do is because I watched him for years.

These days, I often irritate him, and he fights with me. But more than that, he fights for me. He still listens to me; when I’m being a pain in the ass he calls me on it, and refuses to let me get away with it.

And it occurs to me that he fights me because he expects more of me than I’m sometimes willing to give, and because he never, ever lets me take the easy road out.

“I have to ask,” I say, “Because I read the signs wrong last time, and...”

Without another word, Leo is hugging me.

********

Everyone is staring at me. Josh just followed Leo like a man walking towards his death, and everyone is staring at me. I can’t stand all those eyes.

“I’ve got some work to do,” I say, heading back towards our bullpen.

I haven’t taken more than five steps when Sam appears at my elbow.

“You’d tell me, wouldn’t you?” he pleads.

I shake my head in amusement. “Of course I would Sam.”

“Good.” We reach my desk, but Sam pulls me into Josh’s office.

“I’ve got work to do,” I repeat.

He closes the door behind me and cuts off further protest by putting a hand over my mouth. “Have you thought any more about what I said at lunch time?”

I gesture to the hand and Sam removes it. “Which part of what you said?”

“The part where I complained that Josh didn’t bring me any lunch.”

“Sam, thinking about things is not the answer. It’s never going to happen.”

“With an attitude like that of course it’s never going to...”

“This isn’t a sports game,” I interrupt. “Josh loves his job. I love my job. We work for the President of the United States. We’re Democrats. The Republicans would do anything to get the upper hand, particularly when re-election is just around the corner. A sex scandal would be too good for them to pass up and I didn’t make plans to be one half of a sex scandal this year. It’s never going to happen.”

“What about going to college?” Sam asks reasonably. “What if...”

“I like the White House,” I interrupt again. “And even if I did leave my job, there’d still be questions asked about how I got it in the first place. You know this.”

“Yes, but it’s wrong! It’s wrong that just because you and Josh are good at your jobs, and you work for the President, and Josh is your boss, you can’t proclaim your undying love for each other and live happily ever after.”

I roll my eyes. “Neither of us are the kind of people to make proclamations of undying love, and I’m certain Josh doesn’t feel that way about me anyway.”

Sam raises his eyebrows. “I’m here to tell you that...”

“Don’t. I don’t want to hear it, and I don’t want to discuss it. I wish I didn’t have these feelings. The fastest way to get rid of them is to pretend they don’t exist.”

“Yes, because denial is a proven method of solving one’s problems.”

“This isn’t a problem, but it will become one if I don’t get things under control. And you egging me on all the time...”

“I don’t egg!” Sam protests. “I just want you and Josh to be happy.”

“It’s sweet, Sam, but really...I have work to do.”

Sam holds my gaze, before he hugs me. Sam gives great hugs. Those full-bodied, tight-armed, it’s-better-because-I’m-here hugs. And he smells like linen and sunshine. Hugging Sam is easy and comfortable.

“For God’s sake,” says Josh from the doorway. “Every time I go looking for you Donna, you’re with Sam.”

“It’s not true,” I immediately say, pulling away slightly from Sam.

“It’s not true that every time I go looking for you, you’re with Sam?”

“That’s true,” I admit. “But what you’re thinking isn’t true.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?” Josh demands.

“What is he thinking?” Sam asks curiously.

I roll my eyes at Sam. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you,” Sam responds.

I sigh. “He thinks there’s something going on between you and I.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Sam says to Josh. “That’s unfounded, and ridiculous. And you know what else? It’s ridiculous. Donna and I are just friends.”

“I know,” Josh says tiredly. “I was actually thinking that you two spend so much time together you‘re probably plotting to overthrow the government.”

“We could, you know,” Sam replies, his expression appraising. “It wouldn’t be that difficult, seeing how Margaret can forge the President’s signature.”

Josh steps into his office. “Could you two plan the revolution in Sam’s office? I’ve got twenty more amendments to get through.”

“I’ve got to work on that speech for the Forestry group,” Sam says, pulling away from me. He leaves with a sad look on his face.

Josh sits down at his desk, and looks pointedly at my stomach. First my nose, now my stomach? “How’s the morning sickness?”

I laugh. “I get it at night, so I’m not due to re-visit lunch for two hours.”

“Charming,” Josh replies, making a face. “And it’s a girl, by the way.”

“I know,” I agree, still just joking along. This is what we do: we banter. “A girl with thirty-four freckles on her nose.”

He leans back in his chair. “She reels off facts like the Britannica Encyclopaedia, she learnt to read when she was three, and she takes ballet,” he adds.

“And also karate, so she can kick major ass.”

Josh nods. “And she’s going to do law at Harvard, go into politics, where she’ll have a spectacular career as a Senator, and at the age of 39, will simultaneously become the youngest and the first female President ever.”

He’s right. Not that I’m biased. “Of course. And her name is...” I think for a moment, “Olivia.”

“Olivia,” he repeats. “I like it. Nobody would mess with an Olivia.”

“And her middle is Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth’s so common.”

I frown. “Well, Eleanor was already taken by the President and Mrs. Bartlet.” I rack my brains. “I’ve got it. Emmeline.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Emmeline?”

“As in Emmeline...”

“Pankhurst,” he interrupts impatiently. “I know who Emmeline Pankhurst was. I’m just thinking it might not be the best omen for Olivia.”

“Yes, because, being named after a feminist would be so terrible, Josh.”

“No, but the whole throwing herself under a carriage thing is worrying.”

He has a point. “What about Jacoba?”

Josh’s eyes go wide in horror. “That’s as bad as Brunhilde. No.”

“You just made that name up. Do you even know who Jacoba was?”

“Brunhilde is from a Wagner opera. And Jacoba was a doctor in 12th century Paris. Do you think that being a man precludes me from knowing the important figures of history? Even if they’re women? Because that sounds a little sexist.”

“You hate opera, Josh. And I’m a woman who lives in a patriarchal society. I can’t possibly be sexist.”

“I dated a girl who forced me to watch the Ring Cycle. And neither Emmeline or Jacoba were American.” Then he gives me smirk #3: I’ve got it! “Abigail.”

“It’s perfect.”

His smirk grows wider. “She should have two middle names. Olivia Abigail Claudia. It’d keep CJ off our back for years.”

“Josh! Our daughter is Olivia Abigail Claudia because she’s been named after kick-ass women and CJ is one.” He’s looking at me strangely. “What?”

“Our daughter,” Josh repeats softly.

And it’s no longer bantering anymore. “I have work to do. And so do you.”

“Yeah.”

Olivia Abigail Claudia has Josh’s dimples, his humour, and his kindness. I find myself wishing that life really were a fairy-tale and happy endings existed.

That way, I’d get to meet our daughter.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

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