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.

Ten seconds after his mouth finds mine, I realize I’ve found the thing I want to do with Josh more than bantering. And the man’s tongue should be made an illegal weapon.

I’ve forgotten about the rain, about my wet clothes and hair, about the painful cut on my right foot (yes, walking around barefoot is a very stupid idea), and I don’t think I could tell you what day it was if you asked.

You know that moment, in romance novels, when the blonde, blue-eyed heroine finally kisses the tall, dark, handsome hero after seventy-five pages of woeful dialogue? There’s invariably a line during the kiss that goes something like: ‘They kissed and it felt like it was the thing they’d been made to do - like they’d been kissing their whole lives but just hadn’t known it’.

Those of us with brains groan outright.

(And I only read one Danielle Steele novel. I got to page ninety, and could feel my brain cells killing each other in protest. So, I read Tolstoy instead).

The thing is, I’m having that moment. Not in such a clichéd way, but Josh and I kissing feels - apart from amazing - like a different way of saying the things we always tell each other. Our bantering, or the way he touches my elbow, and says my name, are our ways of saying the same things: I love you, I respect you and you drive me to distraction.

Unfortunately, thanks to biology, we have to stop and breathe.

Josh breaks away and takes deep gulps of air like he’s a swimmer and he’s getting as much oxygen as possible before his race. I laugh, because Josh and I could never be serious about this moment.

“What?” he asks, pulling me closer. My dress is making his pants wet, but he doesn't care, so I don't care.

“Nothing,” I reply.

Josh strokes my cheekbone with his thumb. “Donna, you need to come back to my apartment, because the cold, wet ground is not the surface I work best on.”

I frown. “How do you know - ”

“Don’t ask,” Josh interrupts. I open my mouth. “If you’re a good girl I’ll tell you later.” He takes my hand and pulls me in the direction of his apartment.

And then it hits me. “We can’t do this,” I tell Josh, coming to a halt.

“We can't go inside?” he asks calmly.

“We can’t...” I trail off. I can't quite say the words. Toby's "tempting fate" speech is broadcasting loud and clear in my mind.

“Sleep together,” Josh provides. He seems to have no trouble with it, but then again, Josh always has liked to tilt at Fate. And windmills. And the tobacco lobby. And Leo's patience.

I nod though, expecting his insecurities to come roaring to the fore. Instead, he sighs. “It’s pouring with rain out here, Donna. Can we at least go back to my dry and warm apartment to discuss why we can’t do this?”

He has a point - we’re absolutely soaked, and my foot is probably going to get infected if I stay out here. I nod and we walk back to the apartment. I keep glancing at Josh to make sure that's he's still there, and this isn't a dream, only to find him doing the same thing. We grin at each other and climb the steps to Josh's apartment.

“We can’t do this,” I say, the second Josh closes the front door behind us.

“Give me three good reasons why we can’t do this.”

“One - it breaks White House Employee Policy. Two - the media would be all over it. Three - it would ruin your career.”

Josh tilts his head. “One - you’re officially fired until I reinstate you tomorrow morning, just in time for Senior Staff. Two - you might be into kinky Donna, but I didn’t plan on inviting the media. And three - I’m not going to let that happen.”

I shake my head. “It would only be a matter of time before somebody found out, and then the whole world would come crashing down around us.”

Josh grins again. “I appreciate the hyperbole Donna, and whilst I’m very good, I’m not that good." He tilts his head. "Or maybe I am.”

I smack him on the head. “Stop being flippant! We work for the President. Of the United States. There are a lot of people who want to see him politically ruined. They’d stoop at nothing because they’re not the good guys. And a white house secretary screwing her boss is too good a story to pass up.  These are concepts I know you understand.”

"You're not a secretary," Josh says firmly.

"That's the way they'll spin it, Josh."

“None of those things will happen, Donna,” Josh repeats.

I cross my arms. I’m dripping all over the floor and I probably look worse than a drowned rat, but I’m determined to stand my ground. “Fine then. Give me three good reasons why we should..."

"Sleep together," Josh says again.

"Yes. That."

“One - you want to. Two - I want to. Three - I see you.”

And he undoes me. Just like that, he undoes me. Josh knows it too, because three seconds later he has me backed up against the wall, his mouth pressed firmly against mine.

This is a completely different kiss. It’s demanding, seeking and challenging, and we get tangled up in each other for control. The coolness of my skin against the heat of his mouth makes me shiver. His hands are in my hair, tilting my head back and changing the angle of our mouths. I pull Josh up against me, and he hisses.

“We should get you out of your clothes before you catch a cold,” I say.

“What an excellent idea, Nurse Moss.”

“We can save that role-play for another time.”

“I’ve got a lot of things saved up for another time,” Josh tells me in a shivery-evil tone. He nips his way along my jawline, then my neck.

“You give me a hickey I’ll kill you.”

It’s like waving red rag to a bull; Josh immediately sucks and blows on the side of my neck. He does it again, to make sure.

Not that I’m protesting or anything.

I was serious about the clothing though, and I unbutton his shirt. The job is doubly difficult because our clothes are wet, and the material is sticking to Josh’s body. Having made his way to my collarbone, his mouth is an added distraction.

I finally get the shirt off, but there’s an undershirt.

“Crap,” I mutter.

Josh pulls away from my neck. “What?”

“Step back for two seconds.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“I like it where I am.”

“If you step back I can keep undressing you.”

“I have no problem with that.”

He steps away, and I pull his undershirt off and toss it behind him. Josh doesn’t seem to care that his floor will get wet.

My eyes and hands find his scar at the same moment. I’ve seen it before, of course, in the hospital and later, at home. This however, is different, and Josh feels it too. He watches me with darkened eyes. I gently follow the curving, puckered pink line with my fingers, then bend and press my mouth to the top of it.

Josh jumps at the contact, but then he runs his fingers through my hair. I can hear his heartbeat thumping against my cheek. I keep my fingers on the scar while I reach back up to kiss him.

And this is a softer kiss, because I’m trying to tell him every falling apart moment I had; every fear; every time I cried silently in his bathroom with the shower on, so that he wouldn’t hear me in the living room.

He seems to understand, because his mouth eases over mine with infinite grace, and his hands gently weave through my hair.

“Hello,” he says, when we break away. “I’m here.”

“I know.” I smile and kiss his wrist. “I know.”

And it’s a miracle.

He kisses me again; and it’s fire.

However, it takes me a moment to realize that Josh makes out like a politician. Everything is subtle. He waits until I’m fully immersed in the kiss, before he moves his hands over my body.

That’s why my breath stops short in surprise when his hands cup my breasts. My nipples spring to life against his palms, and he grins.

“Shut up,” I say.

“Didn’t say a word,” Josh responds. He makes circles with his left hand, but his right creeps around my back, wandering gently around the expanse. After a moment he frowns, and his fingers start pressing insistently against my spine. His left hand stops moving and stills against my breast.

I glare at him, before I realize that he’s looking for my zip. Laughing, I guide his hand to the side of my torso. “It’s a side zip, Josh.”

“Women’s clothing needs a map,” he mutters darkly, sliding the zip down.

I run my fingers down to his belt. In five seconds, I loosen the belt, whip it out and undo his fly. “I don’t seem to be any trouble with your clothing.”

In retaliation, Josh slips a hand inside my dress, grazing the side of my breast. His hand is nowhere near where I want it to be, but my body is singing anyway.

I cup his erection through his pants, and leave my hand there in revenge, not moving it a millimetre. He groans. “Donna,” Josh says, resting his forehead against mine. “There’s a place beginning with B that I’d really like to take you.”

I grin. “And where might that be?”

“Bed.”

********

The woman is a Goddess.

Of course, I realized that the day I hired her, but I now feel qualified to truly state that Donnatella Isabelle Moss is a Goddess.

I’m having trouble breathing and thinking at the same time.

She has wrapped her arms around my waist and she’s pressed up against me in divine ways. “Josh?” she prompts.

“Mm?”

“Bed? You’re going to take me?”

“Oh. Yes.” I take her hand and set out for my bedroom. She stops near her purse and collects something. “What’s that?”

“You’ll find out very soon,” she promises me.

It seems to take forever to walk to the bedroom. “I’m glad you remember where it is,” she teases when we finally arrive. We stand in the middle of the bedroom holding hands, and look at each other.

“Sometimes, Donna, talking is overrated.”

I kiss her, and the leisurely, exploratory pace we’ve been entertaining suddenly disappears.

Without any trouble, I manage to get her wet dress over her hips until it’s a shapeless, wet pile at the foot of my bed. When I look back up, I realize Donna’s divested me of my clothing, all of it scattered haphazardly around us.

She topples me to the bed and straddles me. I splay my hand against her stomach and trace the brown mark below her right breast. I’ve never seen it before, but then again, Donna’s never had much occasion to parade around naked in the office before. I wonder if I could change that.

“Birthmark,” she murmurs.

I run my hand up to cup the weight of her breast. Then I stroke her nipple, not giving her any time to recover before I take it into my mouth and twirl my tongue around it. Donna stills completely, her spine arches, and her head falls back.

If I’d known this could shut her up so effectively, I would have done it years ago. I move to her other breast. She seems to recover because her hand trails down over my stomach and in a diagonal line to my hip. Then it slips lower.

I think I just forgot my name.

Donna’s hands are hesitant, shy, and almost worried as they graze up and down my shaft uncertainly. I pull away from her breast and look up at her to find her biting her lower lip. It’s so terribly endearing, and I smile.

Emboldened, she swirls her fingernail across the head of my extremely painful erection. Once. Twice. Thrice. Jesus Christ. I feel like I’m seventeen again, with absolutely no control over my body. But I’m not, and I’m not going to let it happen like this.

“This isn’t going to last much longer if you keep doing that.”

“I...oh.” She grins wickedly. “Really?”

“You really have to stop talking now,” I tell her, rolling us over. I settle my weight carefully. She shifts under me, moving her hips into a more comfortable position.

I return to my discovery of her body. Placing a kiss on her birthmark, I trail my mouth down to her bellybutton. She giggles as I dip my tongue into it, the vibration unexpected against my cheek.

I look up at her, resting my chin on her pelvic bone, asking my question silently. In response, Donna sits up on her elbows and parts her knees. I run my finger from her knee down the inside of her thigh and part her folds gently.

I’ll admit that when I was younger, I was like most young men: a self-centred jerk about sex. We barely know our own bodies, and self-control is a foreign word to our vocabulary. The difference is that some men wake up and get a clue. Donna’s giving me this half-curious, half-astounded look, so I have to show her I got a clue.

She’s warm and wet and all those other wonderful things that make me want to bury myself inside her, but I concentrate and find her clitoris. I press on it lightly with my thumb, feathering the area around it. I keep doing it until Donna isn’t really breathing anymore, but releasing these mewling noises.

They’re extremely cute.

Also frustratingly erotic.

I let my mouth take over from my fingers, inwardly smiling at the way the noises keep getting louder and jerkier. Her hand lands lightly on my head, and her fingers weave their way through my hair.

Strangely though, Donna seems to be pulling me away. She’s so close it’s like watching a glass of water fall off the table; you screw your eyes up because you know it’s absolutely about to happen and you can’t stop it.

Confused, and a little worried, I look up at her.

Donna shakes her head, her hair in disarray, her eyes bright, her skin flushed. “Not - not like that,” she tells me. “I want...I want you...inside me...”

My arms aren’t entirely steady as I crawl back up her body. I stop to lick the inside of her wrist, then blow on the wet patch of skin. Donna suddenly shudders, cries out deeply, and clutches my waist.

I realize, impossibly, that she just fell off the table.

“Josh,” she exhales, still shaking.

Her wrist? “Uh...sorry?” I venture.

She laughs huskily. “First time a guy’s ever apologized for doing that to me.”

I shift slightly and wince when my erection comes into contact with the softness of her inner thigh. I start running through the Governors of Connecticut in chronological order. I am a grown man, and I have control over my body.

Donna shifts again, but this time it’s malicious, because her deliciously wet sex brushes up against my cock. “Jesus, Donna.”

She rolls us and holds up a condom. As lightly as she can, she rolls it over my erection, but I barely contain a whimper. Then she raises herself up on her knees and sinks down onto me.

I close my eyes and stop breathing, because there are no words for this. When I open my eyes, I find Donna looking at me. I rest my hands on her waist, and she starts moving slowly, rocking back and forth and rotating her hips.

Our pace increases exponentially, urged on by the way my hands move to her hips, shifting the distribution of her weight until it makes me hiss; by the way Donna reaches up to pull her hair off her neck, curving her back and throwing her breasts into relief. By the new and heady rhythm we’re making, because I don’t ever remember sex being quite so primal and connected before.

It isn’t long before I’m reaching up to meet her, and stroking her where our bodies meet. She plunges down once more and cries out. Her body flexes around me and I do what I’ve been doing for the past three years: I follow Donna.

********

This is the part I assumed Josh would suck at it.

I mean, not that I ever gave it any serious consideration, but I always figured Josh would be pretty good in bed. It’s his strut, his muscular forearms, the way he occasionally puts his hands on my hip when he’s dancing with me, or hugging me, in a blatant mark of ownership.

But I figured Josh would suck at the afterwards part. You know, the holding and the snuggling and the making of inane conversation.

But, after discreetly disposing of the condom - which actually did glow in the dark - he returned to bed, and has lain with me for twenty minutes without a single sign of restlessness.

“I’m exhausted,” I admit.

Josh smirks. “So it wasn’t hyperbole.”

I elbow him half-heartedly. “Not that. Well, it wasn’t hyperbole, but the whole day has been exhausting.”

He runs his fingers through my hair. “And I tried so hard to make it good.”

“Yeah, the Fates did conspire against you. The flowers were condoms, Leo organized a health inspection, Dr. Freeride, Joey Lucas...”

He interrupts. “Were you mad at me for that? During lunch?”

“When I found the symphony tickets I thought you were taking her.”

“Do I need to tell you how many kinds of stupid that is?”

“No.”

“And can I point out that getting condoms instead of flowers turned out to be excellent forethought on my behalf?”

“Uh-huh.” I rotate on my hip, and we’re silent for a few minutes.

Then Josh says, “Do you think Zoey will be okay?”

“I hope so, but Charlie’s her first serious boyfriend. I can count on one hand the number of my friends who stayed with their first serious boyfriends.”

“Who was yours?”

“Stephen Lowry. He was president of the debating club. We dated for a year, and went to prom together. I thought he was a God. Then he met another girl, and fell madly in love. They’re still together, last I heard. I was devastated at the time.”

“Yes, but you obviously idolise someone else these days.”

“A girl couldn’t idolise you if she tried, Joshua.”

“I have a fan club, Donnatella.”

“They’re college students. They probably smoke a lot of pot.” I roll my eyes, wanting to move on. “And the girls ruined your other present, so...”

Josh sits up on one of his elbows and looks down at me with confusion. “The girls ruined what other present?”

I wince. “I’m sorry Josh. The other assistants told me about the raise.”

“What?” He looks heartbroken.

“They assumed I knew, so they started talking about it, only to discover that I had no idea. It’s still wonderful, though. Thank you very much.”

He flops onto his back, defeated. “You deserve it. Budget got held up the other month, so it won’t go through until Friday.”

“That’s okay.”

“I should have known. I can’t organize anything properly without you.”

“The clothes were fine, and the symphony would have been, except for me being an idiot.”

“You weren’t. I think the only thing that hasn’t gone wrong is the jewellery.”

Now it’s my turn to sit up in surprise. “Jewellery? What jewellery?” I look intensely at Josh, only to find him starting at my chest. “Josh! Focus!”

“I am focusing.”

“Not on that. The jewellery.”

“Oh...it’s in my coat pocket. But that’s in the living room, and we’re in here, so...” but before he can finish, I leap out of bed, heedless of my nudity, and retrieve his coat.

“Never tell a girl there’s jewellery in the offing without expecting her to race after it,” I tell him when I return.

Josh is just staring at me with his mouth wide open. I climb back under the sheets and hand him the damp, heavy coat. “Jewellery, Josh. Surprise the hell out of me.”

He reaches into one of the pockets and pulls out a black velvet box. “This isn’t just a gift from me. A few months ago, when I visited Connecticut for the weekend, my mother handed it to me and told me to give it to you for Christmas from both of us.”

“You’re a little early.”

“Do you want it or not?”

“Sorry. I want it.”

“It was my Mom’s, and my Grandma Anna’s before that. My Mom was going to give it to Joanie, but, well...” he trails off and clears his throat. “She wants you to have it.”

“Oh, Josh. I don’t...I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“I don’t deserve...that’s just the loveliest, most beautiful thing...” I’m getting choked up. “Josh, I’m about to go all girly on you.”

He grins. “We just had pretty amazing sex - you can go all girly on me.”

I bury my head in his neck. Josh kisses my temple tenderly. I didn’t know Josh could be tender, but then again, I had no idea he could do a certain number of rather amazing things with his tongue before tonight, so colour me wrong.

I pull back from him. Josh holds out the box. “You want to actually look at it? Now that you’ve gone all girly?”

I pull the lid open reverentially and look down at a silver necklace, with links so fine you can barely tell where one finishes and the next begins. Hanging off it is a beautifully worked silver butterfly, with amethysts embedded in the wings. The butterfly’s body is marked by a row of diamonds.

I lift it out and watch the light catch on the stones. “Josh, it’s...perfect.”

“My great-grandfather gave it to my grandmother, Anna, when she turned sixteen. He died at Auswitzch a year later. My grandmother managed to get out of Germany with her brother, and came to America, where she met my mother’s father, Huen.”

I’m still marvelling at the intricate work. “Your mother is amazing, Josh.”

“You remind me of her.” It’s the highest compliment he’s ever paid me. I reach up and kiss him.

I don’t know that we’re going to be okay with all of the afterwards stuff. Josh’s issues with commitment; my issues about dependency and neediness; Josh’s tendency to act first and think later; my tendency to obsess, and the problems that come with every relationship: space, attention, intimacy, jealousy, and trust.

The arguments, because I guarantee you Josh and I will fight; the staff and public reactions to our relationship; the media attention; the righteous Republicans, the stress and tiredness and frustration our jobs create.

I have no way of knowing that we’ll make it, but after all the crap we’ve gone through to get here, I’d like to think so.

And if we do make it, things will never be perfect.

But it’ll be us, which is better than perfect.

********

Donna finally leaves at five in the morning. I know she has to leave, but I try to make her stay as long as possible. Finally, she pulls on a pair of my sweats, bundles up her dress and goes. I’ll see her in two hours, which feels light years away.

I don’t sleep; I sit in bed and work. I have to read thousands of reports in the course of my job. They’re prioritised, and some are staffed out, but I have to read a lot of them. Although the bed smells distractingly like Donna, I manage to read four reports before six-fifteen, which is mostly because I skim.

As I shower, I remind myself that Donna and I need to have a discussion. She can’t keep working for me. Leo made that perfectly clear. So, I need a new assistant. I’ll probably hate it and do everything I can to get rid of the new assistant, but I’ll manage.

Donna, however, loves working in the White House, so we’ll have to keep things secret until we work out what to do. That won’t work very long, because our office is alarmingly incestuous, and somebody will find out. But nothing detracts from my good mood.

Donna is at her desk when I arrive. “Morning,” she says, her skin flushed.

“Morning.” It’s a struggle not to lean over and kiss her. Yeah, this secretive thing is going to work real well. “How are you?”

“Tired,” Donna replies, the corner of her mouth cocking up. “You?”

“Also tired. What’s on the agenda this morning?”

“An ‘inside source’ from Senator Murkowski’s office told the Post that Appropriations isn’t going to let 819 through.”

I roll my eyes. “I knew that four days ago.”

“The office pool has the personal trainer at 2-1 for the inside source.”

“Murkowski hates his personal trainer. Never talks to him during their sessions. Put five bucks on his chiropractor.”

Donna follows me into the office. “You’ve got Staff in twenty minutes.”

I survey my office, which has somehow become messier overnight. “We must have the elves who come around at night and make mess instead of shoes.”

Donna frowns at me. “What?”

“You know, the fairy tale...” I sigh. “You normally know this stuff.”

“Are you feeling okay?” She reaches up, as if to feel my forehead, but her hand stops halfway. “We shouldn’t do stuff like that anymore, right?”

“You did it before we...you know,” I point out. “If you stop touching me altogether people might get even more suspicious.”

Donna smiles. “That’s an excellent point.”

I step closer to her. “We should talk. About what we want to do.”

She starts tidying up my desk. “We should, but you have work.”

“I could blow the whole day off. We could go back to my place, crawl into bed and not come out until dinner.”

“Not going to happen.”

“A man can dream.”

“This morning’s memos are in your in-box. After Staff, you’ve got forty minutes for phone calls, then you’ve got a meeting with State guys.”

“Okay.” I take a deep breath. “We’ll talk tonight? My place?”

“Will there be real food?” she asks. “A girl needs sustenance.”

“It wasn’t hyperbole, huh?”

“Shut up, Josh!”

“I’m just saying...”

“Well, don’t.”

Somebody clears his throat in the doorway. Donna and I turn, and I hope I don’t look as guilty as I feel. Donna recovers first. “Morning, Toby.”

“Donna,” Toby nods. “Can I talk to Josh for a minute?”

“Sure.” She steps out of the office. Toby hovers in the doorway. “I wanted to tell you that Sarah McCreary has resigned.”

I frown. “Who’s Sarah McCreary?”

“One of the junior Congressional Liaisons.”

“Still don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Redhead. Annoying laugh. Scarily inefficient,” Toby prods. He’s speaking loud enough half for the White House to hear, and I wonder what the hell he thinks he’s doing.

“I remember,” I say slowly. “She knew nothing about Congress.”

“Mm. I thought you should know.”

“Human Resources will probably handle it, Toby. I don’t appoint everybody in this place.”

Toby gives me his ‘I’m-working-with-idiots’ look. “There’s an opening for a internal promotion. Somebody who knows about liaising with Congress.”

Donna and I look at each other, stricken. Toby looks at us and sighs with relief.

CJ bursts through the adjoining door. “Sarah McCreary has resigned.”

“They know,” Toby interrupts.

CJ stares at him in surprise. “You told them?”

Toby looks down at his shoes. “Yes. I told them.”

CJ grins. “Careful Toby, people will think you actually like Donna and Josh.”

Somebody sprints around the corner and skids to a halt in front of Donna. It’s Sam. He grabs hold of Donna and heaves breathlessly. “Donna, guess what?”

“Sarah McCreary resigned?” Donna guesses, still staring at me.

He frowns. “How did you know?”

“Toby told them,” CJ informs Sam.

Sam stares at Toby. “You told them?”

“Yes, but I don’t like them. I just felt they should...that is..."

Sam smiles. “I know, Toby.”

“Donna?” I ask carefully, stepping forward.

“Would you be okay? Without me?” She meets me halfway.

“No, but I’d get used to it.”

“It’s an entirely separate department, and it’s all stuff you’ve taught me about. I know how to liaise with Congress.”

“You’re excellent at those things. You’re over-qualified for the job. And it’s a promotion.”

Donna nods. “I’d see you all the time. Congressional Liaison works with the Deputy Chief’s office."

“A lot,” I agree.

“And Communications.”

“A lot.”

“And we’d still...I mean, you and I would...”

“A lot,” I say again, grinning stupidly.

“Josh!” Leo bellows from the hall.

“Uh...” I look helplessly at the others. “What was the last stupid thing I did?”

“We can’t keep track anymore,” Toby says sarcastically.

“Josh!” Leo bellows again, rounding the corner. “I just had an interesting call from Hoynes’ Chief of Staff. Apparently, yesterday, security delivered a basket of condoms from an anonymous individual to the Vice-President.”

I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing, but Sam and CJ don’t have that constraint. Five seconds after Leo finishes speaking, they’re clutching each other and laughing merrily. Tears are streaming out of CJ’s eyes.

Another five seconds and Toby breaks out into a grin. Donna’s standing so close I can feel her body shaking with the effort to hold the giggles in, and she gives up and joins CJ and Sam.

I’d actually forgotten what we did yesterday. But it’s funny. It’s honest-to-God funny. And Leo just can’t maintain his seriousness. When he lets go, Leo has a fantastic laugh.

A few minutes later, we manage to get things under control.

Leo puts on his stern face. “I have no idea who Anonymous is, but it’s unprofessional and I don’t want to hear of it happening again. Understood?”

“Understood, sir,” we all say, breaking into grins again.

Leo looks at Donna. “I’d also like to mention that Sarah McCreary resigned from Congressional Liaison.”

“So I’ve been told,” Donna says neutrally. “It’d be an interesting job.”

Leo nods innocently. “Human Resources asked me to do the interviews. I’d like to promote someone with practical experience with Congress.”

Donna smiles congenially. “I hope you find the right person, sir.”

“I’m getting the CV’s from Human Resources, and I’m absolutely certain I’ll find the right person.”

Donna looks at me with bright eyes. “Excuse me Josh, I have to get something ready for Human Resources.”

“Well, I’ve got Senior Staff now,” I tell her, trying to sound normal.

I’m going to miss having Donna as my assistant, but I’ll be able to go home to her at night and wake up with her in the morning instead. And I get the feeling I’ll be working with the Congressional Liaison Department a lot more from now on.

“Okay then.” Donna’s little finger brushes mine.

“My office,” Leo says. As he walks past me, he pats me on the back.

Toby follows Leo. When he reaches Donna, he kisses her on the cheek, and then glares at me. “Don’t say a word.”

CJ looms over me. “You mess this up, I’ll kill you.” With that, she walks towards Leo’s office with Toby. I glance over, and see Sam and Donna hugging tightly. He lets go of her and looks at me.

“Thanks, Sam.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Senior Staff. Go,” Donna insists.

Sam starts pulling me towards Leo’s office, hands wrapped around my upper arm. Sam is surprisingly strong. In a sissy-like way.

“Donnatella - you’ll be waiting here when I get back?” I ask her.

“Aren’t I always, Joshua?” And Donna smiles.

So I smile in return.

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

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