Cold Blood Part III
WARNING: This is my romance part, at least for Josh and Donna. If you donít like them getting together, well, stop reading now. Youíve been warned.
Disclaimer: I forgot this in part one, so here it is: I donít own any of the characters, places, or things, but sometimes I like to pretend I do. Itís fun.
Joshís Bullpen: The West Wing 12:47 am
"So they make us stay here all night, and yet donít provide coffee? That is cruel and unusual." I commented as I returned to Donnaís desk. She nodded disinterestedly. Leo had told me I couldnít go home, cause I got stuck with the Secret Service meetings. Donna refused to leave. I sat down in my chair, which I had dragged out from my office over to her desk, and rubbed my forehead. "I could hear you guys," I said suddenly. "When?" Donna asked. "While I was unconscious after surgery. I wasnít totally out of it." Donna looked at me. "So you heard everything I said," she said. "Just about." I replied. Donna groaned and covered her face with her hands. "What?" She moved her hands away, then shook her head. "Nothing," she said, standing. I got up too. "Donna," I said quietly. She turned around and came over to me. "Yes?" I looked her straight in the eyes. "I heard this," I whispered as I slipped my arms around her waist and gave her a kiss. When we pulled apart she stared into my eyes. "You couldnít have said this earlier?" she said. I smiled. "No, I was too dense to figure out how I really felt about you," I replied. She smiled back. "Better late than never," she murmured as I kissed her again. We broke apart suddenly when we heard someone coming down the hall. To our relief, it was Sam. "You two are still here?" he said incredulously. I nodded. "Yep. Leo informed me I had to stay for the SS meetings." Sam half-smiled. "Iím going up to the hospital for a while, okay?" "Okay. See ya." We waited until Sam was gone, then I sat down and pulled Donna down on my lap. "I love you, Josh," she said, resting her head on my chest. "I love you too, Donna," I whispered. I wrapped my arms around her and smiled sadly. Sad it took a tragedy to make me realize how I felt.
Leo McGarryís Office: The West Wing 1:25 am
Yawning, I walked into Leoís office. "Morning, Leo," I muttered. Leo looked up. "Iíll be taking over the SS stuff from here, so you can go home," he said. I nodded sleepily. "Okay. Iíll go up to the hospital, I think." I stood and yawned again. "Leo, next time weíve gotta pull an all-nighter, make sure there is good, hot, strong coffee around, okay?" Leo nodded. "Sure. Whatever." I left Leoís office and headed back to mine. Donna was sitting up on the couch, her head in her hands. "Whatís wrong?" I asked worriedly. She looked up. "I was dreaming about it," she said. I sat down next to her and put my arm around her shoulders. "Was that what it was like last time?" she asked. I nodded. "Yeah. Except- except, it was worse this time, cause they got into the White House." I shook my head. "The White House is supposed to be one of the safest buildings in the world." "Itís gonna be even worse for C.J. and everybody, cause they work here. You donít have to go back to Rosslyn"- She glanced at me as I flinched- "but they work here, everyday." I sighed and nodded. "Iím gonna go up to the hospital, you wanna come?" She nodded and we walked out to my car.
We arrived at the hospital to find C.J. and Toby the only ones still there. "Zoey and the President left about half an hour ago," Toby said in answer to my unspoken question. C.J. looked awful. Her left arm was bandaged up. She was staring vacantly into space, and obviously had not slept at all. "Two times, Josh," she said hoarsely. "Two times Iíve been shot at. And Iím expected to go back in a few days and keep working like nothing happened." She fell silent as I realized that was the first time sheíd spoken to me since the paramedic bandaged her arm right after the shooting. I wanted to say something, but I had no idea what. What do you tell someone who looks like sheís given up all hope?
Private Waiting Room: GW Hospital 2:07 am
Blinking, I woke up, trying to remember where I was. When I did remember, I was surprised I hadnít had any dreams. I guess that sleeping in a rather uncomfortable chair didnít let me sleep well enough to dream. Or maybe Iíd seen one too many shootings, and it didnít affect me anymore. You wish, Joshua, I thought. We all looked up as a doctor entered the room. "Are you all here for"- he checked his clipboard-" Arthur Leeds, Carol Sanders, and Danny Concannon?" We nodded. "Mr. Leeds is going to be fine. He will be released from the hospital tomorrow afternoon, and probably wonít be working for about a month. Ms. Sanders will also be released tomorrow, and will be back to work in about two weeks. Mr. Concannon is in his fourth hour of surgery now. His prognosis is good, and apparently the media has been getting false reports. Mr. Concannon was shot in the back, but he sustained very little damage. Heís expected to get out of surgery in about three to four hours, since we need to make sure noting did go wrong." The doctor left. Looking at the people holding vigil in the room, I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and called Sam.