Anything You Can Do......... by Kim
Disclaimers: Still not mine. If they were I would of already stored
their DNA to produce mass amounts of Joshs for the future.
Spoilers: Nothing of huge consequence.
Summary: The competitive nature of Josh and Donna in full force at
3am.
Rating: Heck if I know. Let's say PG. Maybe PG+. If there were
such a thing as PG+
Archive: "Reach for the stars, Sam." Go right ahead.
Feedback: Yes......or I'll find you at your homes and ask you what
you really think. :-) Okay, not really, but only becuase I have to
be at work in an hour. Otherwise, I'd be on my way.
Notes: This doesn't have a thing to do with my current series. It's
something I started about a week and a half ago and finished it last
night. If I've gotten any historic or geographic details wrong,
please forgive me. :-)
**************
There's got to be some sort of law protecting assistants from bosses
who overwork them. Normal people don't work this much, or at this
hour. Not that I really know any normal people anymore. However,
I'm sure in this world, there are still normal people who work nine
to five jobs.
It's 3am and I'm lying on the floor in Josh's office. I shouldn't
say I'm lying on his floor. That would give the insinuation that
he's perhaps lying next to me. Josh is actually sitting next to me.
In no way, shape, or form is Josh lying next to me. We both moved
hours ago from the office chairs. Those things are killers on your
back. I've got to remember to speak to Leo about them one of these
days. So. . . . technically, albeit on my stomach, I am lying on
Josh's floor.
Josh and I are working on notes for the healthcare bill. Well, I
should say, I'm working on notes for the healthcare bill. Josh has
been spending most of his time staring into space and making paper
airplanes. Oh, and have I mentioned he likes to prove his manly
intelligence by rambling off stupid facts?
"I can name all the countries in South America."
See, told you.
"I'd seriously hope you could, Josh. You know,considering your job
and all."
"C'mon . . . . .humor me."
"Okay," I roll my eyes. "Gee, Josh, tell me all the countries in
South America."
"Alphabetically or geographically?"
"I'm going to kill you."
"We can do that later. Argentina, Bolivia, Brazil, Chile, Colombia,
Ecuador, French Guiana, Guyana, Paraguay, Peru, Surinam, Uruguay, and
Venezuela." He smiles triumphantly.
I give him the same smile back. "You forgot the Falkland Islands."
The smile fades and he mumbles, "I always forget the damn Falkland
Islands."
"Good thing you don't work for the U.N."
"Okay, geography wiz, your turn."
I close the report I'm currently looking at. "I don't feel the need
to prove my intelligence by listing off geographic locations. I do,
however, know that the foot contains twenty-six bones. Would you
like to hear their names?"
"Absolutely not. Why would this be of any interest to you?"
"I had a boyfriend who was studying to be a doctor."
"And he use to recite for you the bones in the foot? No wonder it
didn't last."
I shrug my shoulders. "He use to study for tests by reciting stuff
to me."
"And you'd actually stay awake long enough to let him finish?"
"I really had little choice. He use to do it during sex." And I
did fall asleep a couple times but there's no need to go into that.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I think I have succeeded at shutting up Josh
Lyman.
Josh gulps and his eyes grow wide, "He recited medical terms to you
during sex?"
I stretch my entire body out over the floor and stare down at
it. "Dammit, I thought I'd finally shut you up."
"Oh, no, no, no. There's no way to ever shut me up." I can't see
him right now but I'm willing to bet my entire life savings that he's
smirking.
I push back up against my elbows. "Josh, we need to work."
"I'm not stopping you."
I glare at him before reopening the folder. I can't even bother to
reply to that. Seriously, the man is incorrigible. It's practically
dawn and he still has the energy to drive me crazy. He can drive me
crazy any hour of the day. And I'm not talking that kind of `take me
on the floor, right here, right now,' crazy. Although, I could really
go for. . . . .No! No, Donna. Report. Report, work, go home,
sleep. That's the order.
"I can recite all the vice presidents."
Is their any point of stopping him? "Go for it, Rainman."
"I'm going to pass by that comment and blame it on the fact that
you're tired."
"Or that my boss is a psychopath," I mumble.
"Now, if I were a psychopath, I wouldn't be sitting here, about to
tell you the vice presidents that have served this country. I'd
probably be off cutting up little pictures of you and sticking them
all over my Donatella Moss shrine."
"You don't already do that?"
"Only on Thursdays. Now, let's see. It all started with Adams. He,
of course, went on to lead our great nation."
"Josh, I don't need an A&E Biography on them. Just list them."
"You get so bitter in the wee hours of the morning. Adams,
Jefferson, Burr, Clinton, Gerry, Tompkins, Calhoun. . . . ."
"Ooooh, Calhoun.. . . "
Josh does an eerily perfect impersonation of my voice, "Ooooh,
Calhoun?"
"I always liked his name."
"Calhoun?"
"It's sexy. I bet he was great in bed."
"Yes, but did he call out the bones of the nose to his wife while
they were doing it?"
"Josh. . . . "
"Van Buren, Johnson, Tyler, Dallas, Fillmore, Ki -. . . . .Okay, stop
laughing."
I'm stretched on the floor again, giggling like a third grader. I
look up. "Sorry, Fillmore. There's a name to live up to in bed."
"His first name was Millard. I'm sure he had quite the complex
because of his name."
Maybe it's the late hour, maybe it's the fumes from the recently
cleaned carpet, but I cannot stop laughing. I'm practically rolling
around on the carpet and Josh is just staring at me.
"Donna, Donna, Donna. . . . ."
I wipe the tears that have formed around my eyes and sit all the way
up. I cross my legs under me and sit up very straight. "Sorry.
Okay, go ahead."
He crosses his arms and leans back on the desk. "Oh, I'm done."
"C'mon, Josh. I really want to learn all about the vice
presidents." I smile. "Keep on going."
"Nope. I can't even begin to fathom what you'll say once we get to
Johnson."
I can't help but laughing again. "Okay, you've got an excellent
point."
We stare at each other in silence for a few moments. It's only until
I remember while we're sitting here that I break the silence. "Okay,
stop bothering me and get to work."
"You're being overbearing and demanding. I like that in a woman."
I throw a file and highlighter at him. "Here. . . . .read."
He doesn't protest. I grab my own file, place it on my lap, and try
to work. Except now I can't work. He always does this. He gets all
worked up and somehow manages to drag me in with him. Now he's back
to working and my concentration is totally gone. I stare at the file
and try to focus on the words. Oh, what's the use? "You know, Josh,
I was voted most likely to run her own business by my senior class."
He doesn't even bother to look up from his folder. "I was voted most
likely to run the world."
I circle a stat on teen pregnancy in my file. "I won the Sawyer
County Elementary spelling bee."
He highlights something and shakes his head. "I won the statewide
middle school geography contest."
"I know how to milk a cow."
"I sheered a sheep once in Scotland."
"The cow thing is more impressive."
"Sheep sheering involves a razor, and touching a sheep in places I
quite frankly do not want to touch."
"And milking a cow involves bare hands and touching her –"
He drops his highlighter. "Okay, Donna, thank you."
"Ha, so I win."
"You do not win. I just didn't want a detailed description of the
cow milking process."
"I so win."
"No, you do not. Okay. . . . .one time in law school I ate five
pizzas in one hour."
"And this is something you admit to?"
"I can bend my index finger against the back of my hand."
Really? "Okay, lemme see."
He puts his folder down and proceeds to show me this very impressive
act. I have to say, that could come in handy some day.
"So, you see Donna, I win. I always win."
I will not go down without a fight. It's time to pull the girly
tricks out. "I can do a split."
"No you can't. . . . . can you?"
"Uh-huh."
He looks almost scared to say it. "Okay, do it."
"No!"
"Donna, to win you gotta do it."
"I'm in work pants."
"So?"
"So? It holds me back."
"It holds you back?"
"You know, from performing it to the best of my abilities."
He smirks. "I'll let you know if you perform to the best of your
abilities."
Bastard.
I stretch my legs out from the Indian style position I'm currently
in, and reach my legs out into a split. I'm very glad it worked. I
don't think I've done that since college. I lay back down, only this
time on my back. I smile back at a very flustered Josh.
"Wow!"
"So I win?"
"Wow!"
"Josh, stop saying that."
"Wow!"
"JOSH!!!!!"
"Wo-. . . . . I mean, how do you do that?"
"I don't know. I've been doing it since I was a little girl."
"You've been doing that," he uses his hands to motion the space on
the rug where I was just doing a split, "since you were a little
girl?"
"Well, I took dancing lessons and gymnastics. That's where I
learned."
"Yeah, but how do you do that?"
"Josh, I don't know. It's just something I can do. I was a
cheerleader in high school and we all had to do splits. Then in
college I use to take dance as one of my electives. Once your body's
muscles get use to. . . . . .Josh! What the hell are you doing?"
During my ramble about the muscles in your body and their ability to
stretch, Josh has managed to crawl from his spot on the floor, and is
now lying next to me. "I need to see something."
He keeps scooting down farther and looking up at my legs. He does
this a couple more times before he seems happy with the outcome.
"Josh, why do you keep moving?"
"I need to make sure out hips are lined up."
Oh, of course, our hips need to be lined up. Wait! "What?"
He doesn't even bother to answer my question. "You see. . . . .my
legs are longer than yours. That means my muscles are longer.
There's no human way you should be able to do that."
"Josh, did they ever let you take biology in high school?"
"Yes, in fact, I got an A."
"Well, I got an A+. Your muscles length has nothing to with the
level of flexibility you have. It's all practice."
He rolls over and props himself onto his elbow. "So, I'd probably
need to work on that."
"You might."
He grins. "Every year I'd always sell the most raffle tickets for my
Hebrew school fundraiser."
"They use to put me in charge of collection at Sunday mass because I
could always get the most money out of people.
He leans down until he's directly over my face. "I can name all the
provinces and territories of Canada from east to west."
I touch his right cheek with my hand. "You're not actually going to,
are you?"
"No, but you have to admit, Donna. . . .anything you can do, I can do
better."
"I'll be judge of that."
He leans down and I run my hand to the back of his head. His lips
both touch mine for a brief moment, and then his tongue slides slowly
into my own mouth. Seriously, if I knew a game of one upping would
of lead to this, I would of done it years ago. His lips and tongue
move perfectly with my own and I can help but moan against him, my
fingers running through his hair.
He lifts up slowly, leaving the tip of his tongue behind for a moment
to run along my lower lip. The man's always got to do a little extra
to be the best at everything.
He smiles down at me, and touches the part of my lip where his tongue
just was. "So, will you admit now that I win?"
I smile against his finger and pull him down again. "No, Joshua, I
win."