(Untitled)
Favorite Characters: ABBEY ABBEY ABBEY!, Jed, CJ, Toby, Andy, Josh, Leo, Annabeth, Donna, Will.
'Ships that sail for you: Abbey/Jed, Abbey/CJ, CJ/Toby, CJ/Danny, Toby/Andy.
Friendships and platonic relationships: Well...any really.
Tell us, what stories are you just dying to read? So many ( Read more... )
'Ships that sail for you: Abbey/Jed, Abbey/CJ, CJ/Toby, CJ/Danny, Toby/Andy.
Friendships and platonic relationships: Well...any really.
Tell us, what stories are you just dying to read? So many ( Read more... )
They're good people, Donna knows, but their sense of perspective is way out of whack sometimes. Why they think that a briefing memo about tax cuts is more important than recovering from life-threatening surgery is beyond Donna, and she's gone from politely nudging to shouting and chasing them down the front steps. If two years in the White House has taught her anything, it's that you do what's necessary to get the job done. Her job now, self-appointed to the position though she may be, is to get Josh well and back to work when he's ready.
So she's ready to give Sam or Toby an earful, even CJ, though Donna likes her most days of the week. She's not above frisking them either, having been caught out once by smuggled paperwork that Josh had seized like a kid in a candy store. If he continues to be his own worst enemy, when he's awake for more than an hour anyway, then Donna needs to take care of everything else. Mrs. Lyman comes down for a couple of days every week, giving Donna a chance to see her own apartment and more often than not collect more of her own work that piles up at the office even in Josh's absence.
It stops her barrage of complaint on the first syllable when she opens the door to see two strapping Secret Service agents there, with another two just one step lower down. In the midst of their considerable, black-suited bulk stands the First Lady of the United States. Donna's used to the pomp and circumstance by now, and she's well aware of the people behind the titles, but out of context and unexpected as this visit is, she finds herself floundering. She's half a second away from curtsying there on the front stoop when the first two agents push gently past her to begin their customary sweep.
Thankfully, Josh's apartment isn't large, and although the First Lady steps just inside the front door, she goes no further until the agents come back with confirmation that all is well. Donna is struck once more by how complicated the lives of the First Family must be, so lack in spontaneity, until she feels the bitter reminder of all the security that failed to protect Josh. Some sacrifices are worth it, for a little more safety.
The agents retreat to their new posts by doors and windows, the quiet murmur from their headsets just audible in the awkward silence. Donna wonders if she should wake Josh, though she's not sure what Mrs. Bartlet could want with him this late.
"Good evening, ma'am," is how she opens, because they're about the only words she can summon.
"Hello, Donna. I'm sorry to call by so late. I was in Chicago."
The First Lady says these things as though Donna knows what they mean, as if, like everyone who actually works in the White House, Donna will know the ins and outs of her schedule. Donna doesn't want to admit that she no longer knows much beyond Josh's medication regimen and the dwindling stack of phone messages she returns on his behalf.
"Can I get you something to drink, ma'am?"
Reply
The agents don't look pleased at being dismissed, but in a private dwelling they don't have much room to argue. They hover in the hallway, but it gives the illusion of privacy at least. Abbey takes a seat in the sparse living room, perfectly at home amidst the lamps that aren't quiet bright enough, the muted television that plays CNN on a comforting loop, and the stacks of intercepted briefing memos that Donna's keeping from Josh. Donna can't keep a blush of embarrassment from her cheeks, it's like being caught out by an unexpected visit from her parents.
"Take a seat, Donna," Abbey says, and there's warmth with a tinge of exhaustion in her words. "I don't think we've seen each other since the hospital, have we?"
Thinking about it, Donna shakes her head in confirmation. She's suddenly all too aware of the fact that she hasn't washed her hair in two days, and that the sweatshirt she's wearing is one of Josh's, and therefore far too big on her.
"I wanted to see how you're doing."
"He's uh-- wait, what?" The unexpected pronoun throws Donna for a loop and she stumbles to a stop before her answer can get going.
"That's right, Donna; I want to hear how you're coping with all this. There are plenty of people worrying about Josh, and I'll admit to having checked his charts a few times myself, just to be sure."
Donna fixes a smile on her face, though she can feel that it's wan and maybe not so convincing.
"Oh, I'm fine ma'am. Just doing my job. Josh is asleep most of the day, so he can't get too impossible."
Abbey waves away the lie, but doesn't seem offended by it.
"Now, Donna, I know what post-op patients can be like. And being a carer is not your job, you know that as well as I do."
"I-- I don't mind. He needs me."
There's compassion on Abbey's face as she acknowledges the truth of what Donna's saying, and in that moment Donna feels a sort of relief that finally she's not having to deflect, or run interference. The First Lady can see everything that Donna's been trying to cover for weeks now: all the nights when she hasn't allowed herself to cry; all the times she's wanted to smash something because of Josh's temper and lack of gratitude.
"It's nice to be needed," Abbey admits. "But it's awful sometimes, too."
"Yes ma'am."
Having apparently satisfied her concern, Abbey glances wistfully at her elegant gold watch. Donna knows that gesture all too well, so she stands first to make it easier.
"Take care of yourself," Abbey warns as she stands to leave. "And if you need anything, you let Lily know."
It's a kind offer, Donna knows, though at least the First Lady is realistic enough to staff it out. She smiles, genuinely this time, and lets the older woman pull her into a brief hug.
"You're a good girl. Make sure Josh remembers that."
Donna revels in the human contact, drinking in the subtle perfume and feeling recharged from the simple hug. What seemed impossible a few minutes ago, she can continue to bear. She'll do a good job, because she always does.
"Have a good evening, ma'am," Donna mutters and pulls away. Her game face firmly back on, she shows the First Lady and her entourage to the door.
"Goodnight, Donna," she says and then they whisk her off into the night. With the door closed, bolted and locked, Donna leans against it for a moment. Taking a deep breath, she's almost anticipating the loud thump from across the hall.
"Donna!" He yells, and she's already in motion. Thank God he'll be healed eventually.
Reply
Thank you so much anon! XD
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment