Disclaimer: Not mine. Aaron (and Craig Counsell) rules all.

Rating: PG

Type: Short Donna and Josh alternating POV

Post-Ep for "War Crimes." Anything up to that is fair game.

Note: I guess this is becoming a little series, but I don't want it to. :) I can't promise a story after every episode. Anyway, I didn't have enough for two separate post-ep fics so this alternates between Donna and Josh's points of view.

Summary: "It's showtime."

"Cold Already" - 1/1

*

Josh was right. It is cold already. It's the middle of October, and it gets so cold at night so quickly.

I wonder what that means.

You know, cold can be used to talk about so many things. It can talk about the weather or temperature of a substance. It can talk about someone's openness towards a subject. I'm quite used to this one, as Josh often sends me in to be charming to Representatives, staffers and other committee members to "warm 'em up" a little before he gets in.

Cold can also be used in reference to somebody's attitude. Or tone of voice. Or the looks they give you. I am becoming quite accustomed to this meaning of 'cold' as well. It's what I've been getting from Josh for the past week and a half, and after today, it'll probably last for another few days.

*

This better work. If it doesn't, I'll have sat outside at 9pm on a Sunday evening by a fountain freezing to death for an hour for nothing.

Nah, I won't freeze to death. Neither a bullet nor a banana killed me, why would a little frostbite?

I still can't comprehend that Donna lied. Well... I guess I can. After all, it probably wouldn't make a difference whether Donna kept a diary or not, but that's not her decision. She knew she couldn't lie, but she did. If the Press got word of this - heck if anybody but Cliff Calley, Mr. Blind-Date-Republican found out about this - it would be over. It would be over for all of us; now we wouldn't only be known for not disclosing MS but also for lying under oath. Well, that last part isn't that unusual, but... it's different this time.

That's why I came up with this. Cliff seems like a reasonable guy. He likes Donna, so he can't be all bad. Heck who wouldn't like donna? Anyway, this will probably work. It better.

Still, this isn't exactly what I'd like to be doing on a cold Sunday evening. But it's better than what could happen if I didn't do it. I would much rather be sitting here with Donna next to me than in an uncomfortable chair with a piece of plexiglass between us.

Believe it or not I do care about more than the administration and reelection campaign. Donna is important to me. I couldn't just let her go on with a dark cloud above her head, and there is no way I'd ever let her go to jail or pay huge fines. She doesn't deserve that. She doesn't deserve me being mad at her either. Well, in part she does, but... right now that's not my focus. I'm not pissed at her. Well, not as much as I was earlier today, and not as much as she thinks. But I needed to fix this. I STILL need to fix this. It's not over yet.

*

He hasn't said so. He never says so. Maybe he thinks he's not still mad at me, but he is. That's okay though. He has every right to be pissed at me. Well, maybe not *every* right since the Constitution does prohibit cruel and unusual punishment, but I don't blame him for the way he's acted lately. I haven't exactly been Most Valuable Asset of the Bartlet Administration lately. Heck, I've probably caused more trouble lately than all of the other assistants and lower level staffers combined. I'm surprised I haven't been fired yet.

Well, no I'm not. Firing me would be an even bigger story for the Press to write about. They can't reassign me either; nobody else is able to deal with Josh. I got enough grief after being out with strep for a week. And I know the senior staff and all my friends there - Margaret and Ginger and Carol and Bonnie and Nancy and everybody else - would not let anything happen to me.

Neither would Josh. That's why we're here. He thinks this is the best plan, and I'm in no position to disagree or argue. I would do anything to take back what I said, but I can't. I can only try to prevent anything worse from happening. Right now, that's all I want. That, and I want Josh to stop being pissed at me.

Suddenly, I see Josh straighten up. I follow his gaze to across the street and see that Cliff has emerged from the coffee shop and is patiently waiting to cross the street. I can't see the look on his face to tell if it's good news or bad news.

I catch Josh's eye. We just look at each other for a minute. I know he can see anxiety and uncertainty in my eyes. I can see what his eyes are telling me, and suddenly it doesn't seem so cold anymore. They're telling me what he doesn't say aloud. I feel now that everything is fine, or at least it will be.

"It's showtime," Josh says quietly.

As he gets up and walks over to meet Cliff, all I can do is watch.

~The End~