Title: 'Cravings' 2/2 

Authors: Jori and MoJo 

E-Mail: Jori: damienma@bellsouth.net and MoJo: mojober@aol.com 

Rating: R to be safe. 

Pairing/Category: Josh/Donna romance 

Archive: Sure. Let us know where it's going 

Date posted: 09/30/00 

Summary: While everything unravels around them, Josh and Donna are craving a little lunch. 

Disclaimers and goodies in part I


Donna Moss' Apartment

The door to her apartment is barely closed before I have her pressed up against it, our kisses coming hard and fast and one right after another. Our legs are entwined as we each try to gain leverage. We don't have much time for this today. Not unless I want to explain to the President exactly why it is I chose to be late to a meeting. We picked Donna's apartment because it's about five minutes closer than mine and at this point, those few minutes count.

Her tongue sweeps through my mouth and plays with mine and my hands glide all over her body, finally free to touch her wherever I want to. She makes soft little moaning sounds against my mouth and that just makes my heart beat faster.

After her jacket hits the floor, I begin to pull at her shirt so I can get it off of her quickly. Breaking our kiss, she leans her head back against the door and looks at me with eyes so dark and hungry I could get lost in them. The need that's in them is almost enough for me to call the White House and tell the President 'not today, amigo,' but he is the President. He could probably see to it that I never work anywhere but a Taco Bell drive through for the rest of my days. We'll just have to quench this thing fast.

"Where are the cats?" I ask, expecting at least one of them to be wrapping its slithery body around my ankles. Instead, I just have Donna wrapping herself around me and that is much preferred over a cat.

"I don't know. They're probably sleeping somewhere... forget about them."

Her tongue flicks against my earlobe and any thoughts of cats slips quickly from my mind.

"Okay," I squeak out. We continue making out against the door for a few more precious minutes, both of us seemingly unable to move from what we've got going on right here. I find a nice, soft spot on her neck right by her jawline and every time I kiss it, she moans just a little more. I love that sound. God, help me. I spent my day telling people why this isn't going to happen in this administration and yet here I am, falling so fast. It's so easy to slip and never be able to recover.

Something that sounds very much like a door opening occurs behind me and we both stop moving, frozen in place as if the press is about to jump out and snap photos of us in the privacy of Donna's foyer.

"Hey, Donna. Hey, Josh. I'm late and I've got to get to class," Donna's roommate says and we untangle ourselves as we move quickly away from the door. I can't even make eye contact with... hell, I'm so frazzled now, I can't even remember her name even though I've met her on numerous occasions. I was usually drunk so I have an excuse.

"I, um, didn't think you'd be back so soon," Donna says apologetically, retrieving her jacket from in front of the door. If her roommate is surprised at finding Donna making out with her boss in the middle of the afternoon, she's not letting on. Maybe she knows something I don't...

"I just got back about an hour ago. I'll catch up with you tonight," she says. I look up and she gives Donna a perky little grin before she slips out the door with a backpack over her shoulder.

"Damn," I say, watching Donna secure the chain on the door. "That was not good. Not good at all."

"It's okay, Josh. She's not going to be talking to the press on her way to Georgetown, okay? She knows where I work and she respects me... respects us... more than that"

I can't stop pacing, feeling incredibly agitated now. I wanted this so badly and now I'm not so sure it's all worth it. We should have gone back to my apartment but hers was closer and it's always the stupid little mistakes that end up costing someone their career.

Damn. It's not the little mistakes. Those are what get you caught. It's doing it in the first place that ends up costing you everything. I look at Donna who's definitely pouting now as I try to convince myself that what we're doing is wrong even if it doesn't feel that way right now. Even beyond just what could happen to us, there's the issue of what could happen to the people around us. To this administration. Some people might casually write it off as just another boss doing his secretary, but others would use it to their advantage. Not only would they use it against me, they would use it to undermine what we're trying to accomplish during this presidency. I want this. I want it to work out for both of us, but I don't want to hurt a lot of people along the way.

"I... Donna, you don't understand. I helped write the policy that states very clearly we shouldn't be doing this and this is what is going to happen if we get caught..."

"Stop it, Josh. I'll quit before it comes to that point. I'll take a position somewhere else and you'll just have to learn how to adjust to getting by without me during the day and in trade, you'll have me all night. Okay? So just stop worrying about it all for one minute..."

"One minute?"

"Maybe ten."

"Okay," I say as she grabs me by my necktie and pulls me towards her kitchen. We stop at the exact spot we stood face to face just the other night back before we became... lovers. That word still sounds strange in reference to Donna.

"What are we doing in here?" I ask, having expected the bedroom to be a more ideal location. Or at least the couch.

"It's lunchtime, Josh," she says, boosting herself up on the kitchen counter and pulling me towards her. We kiss for a long time, both of our hands moving over the other. I finally pull away from those kisses and drop to my knees to take her shoes off this time.

She runs her fingers through my hair and I'm just thankful she has on simple pumps today and not those complicated strappy things she had on for the fund raiser. I tell her to lean back and she does, her fingers unwinding from my hair. Her hands are still desperate for something to hold onto and she reaches for something behind her.

What she hits first is the electric can opener. It lets out a gentle whir and I sit back on my heels and close my eyes, knowing exactly what's coming next.

Something furry brushes against me, purring loudly and that's soon followed by another creature sliding across the floor and into me in such an uncouth manner I can hardly believe it's a cat. I look down at them and the one with big, round eyes looks back.

"Meowww... ."



The sound of my name penetrates the haze and brings me back down to earth just in time to see Josh on the floor staring at Tabitha. His jaw clenches as both cats start rubbing themselves against him. The can opener must have woken them up and now they think it's time to eat. They are just going to have to wait their turn.

"Damn cats!"

I slide off the counter carefully. I barely feel my feet hitting the floor. This is what being with Josh does to me.

"C'mon, Tabby Cat," I whisper, my voice sounding very husky. I lean down to scoop her up with one arm and Cleo with the other, holding them close as I carry them to my roommate's bedroom. I deposit them both on her bed and shut the door. I hurry back to the kitchen, not wanting to waste one more minute. We are on a schedule today, same as any other day. Only today, we get to have lunch.

"Are they gone?" he asks, getting off the floor and reaching out for me.

"For the moment," I say, returning to his arms. I rise up on tiptoe so we are the same height and press our foreheads together. I stare into his soft brown eyes and lace my fingers through his hair, sighing at how right we are like this. We were always so well matched. My lips lock onto his and one kiss melts into the next with no way of telling where one ends and another begins. I love how this feels. I love how this feels with Josh.

"Donna," he moans into my mouth.


"Just how hungry are you?"

"Does the word 'insatiable' mean anything to you, Joshua?" I ask, backing him into a kitchen chair. I put my hands on his shoulders and push him down into it.

"As in 'cannot be satisfied?'" he asks nervously, arms wrapping around my waist. I wrap mine around his neck, around his smiling face and I never ever want to let go.

"Yeah," I say, before dipping my head down to cover his mouth with mine. Without breaking the kiss, I sink down into his lap.

"Ow-ow-ow," Josh mumbles from behind our lips.

"What is it?" I ask, pulling my mouth away.

"Something is jabbing me in the chest," he says, bringing one hand up and sliding it between us. I move back and we both stare down at my ID badge. He holds it so my picture, name and title are visible. Josh frowns and worry lines start appearing across his forehead.


"I'm not your assistant right now," I remind him and myself. I wrap my fingers around his so I can slide it out of his grasp. I pull the badge over my head and discard it onto the floor with a little plastic skitter. I lay my hand on his cheek and draw his face to mine, running my thumb over his lips before he can protest further. "And you're not my boss right now. We'll find a way."

"We have to," he answers, holding me closer and nuzzling behind my ear. His breath is warm and inviting. "I don't think I can stand not having lunch with you. Or breakfast or dinner or midnight snacks either."

"Please stop talking now," I implore, unfastening his tie quickly and yanking it off. I discard it on the floor as well.

"Okay," Josh smiles. "Something else you want me to do besides talk?"

"Josh," I warn.

"I'll shut up," he says. "It's time for lunch."

"Yeah," I agree, closing my eyes as he starts kissing the hollow spot at the base of my throat. I love how relaxed Josh is when we are making love. It's so rare I see him slow down enough to enjoy anything. This isn't an office fling or sexual harassment or whatever else people would call it. I know that in my heart and I hope Josh does, too.

I bring my hands to his face, looking deep into his eyes and sinking into their depths as he sinks into mine.



I half expect her to say 'I love you,' but she doesn't. I'm not sure whether I'm supposed to at this point or not. I try to decide whether it would mean more at a different time when we just didn't do this. I don't want to sound like I'm just saying it because she's more than willing to have... lunch with me.

"Donna, I, uh... thank you for lunch."

"Thank you, too," she says. She leans in and gives me a quick kiss.

At this point, I don't think it really needs to be spoken.

"How you doing?" I ask, leaning forward and giving her quick kiss back.

"Really, really good," she says. Her arms go up around my neck and I wish we could just stay like this but I know better.

"We have to go," I say, looking at my watch. I can't believe we're taking chances like this. I can't believe I'm doing this with my assistant half an hour before I have to go speak to the President about sexual harassment in the workplace. I look at her and she wrinkles up her nose. This isn't harassment. It never will be. This is just Donna and me.

"Josh, I think we need to take a quick shower first."

"Yeah, we do," I say, knowing we can't go back to work like this.

She grabs my hand and pulls me out of the kitchen and towards her bathroom where she starts the water. I follow her, stepping into the billowing steam. She's being careful not to get her hair wet. I imagine that would take a while to dry whereas what's left of mine would be dry before we stepped foot back in the White House.

"You don't have any normal soap?" I ask, perusing her collection of bath gels and body washes. I think she has every fragrance imaginable but nothing that looks remotely like it might smell like Irish Spring or Coast. I move the bottles around, hoping something masculine is hiding in there. Something that screams out that I have a Y chromosome. Something called 'Monster Truck Rally' because I'm pretty sure 'Morning Dew Lily' is going to get my ass kicked on the Hill. I keep looking. "'Honey Spice'... wasn't that a singer or something?"

"Here. Try this one," she says, handing me a plastic bottle half filled with a thick, amber liquid.

"'Creamy Coconut?' Donna, I'm going to smell like I had lunch on St. Barts," I say. She takes the bottle back from me, squeezes out a dollop onto her palm and slides her hand across my chest.

"St. Barts? That's not a bad idea, Josh. Not as good as Hawaii, but a little trip to St. Barts would be nice..."

"Why would we go to St. Barts?" I ask as her hand slides across my body. "Yeah... that would be a good reason."

"It wouldn't be unheard of for someone like you to take their assistant to St. Barts for the weekend, Josh," she says, her hands still moving over my soapy body.

"What do you think they would say when they found out we shared a room?"

"Do you mean before or after they ask for your resignation?" She and I both stop moving and just stare at one another.

"I worked hard to get to where I am, Donna. I... I know you love your job, too. I know how hard you say you work," I say with a smile. "But ... I can't even explain it. What my job means to me."

"It won't come to that. I already told you that. Josh, you act like I don't know what you do or how important it is to you. I know," she says, moving so the spray from the water washes away the coconut fragrance. "You should see your face when something is going right for you at work. The only other time you look that happy is when you're with me."

"Speaking of work," I say, instinctively looking at my wrist to check the time but my watch is sitting by her sink.

"Josh?" Donna asks as I finish rinsing off any traces of what we did here.


"What are we doing for dinner?"


The White House Washington, DC

"We shouldn't walk in together."

It's six minutes to five and instead of sprinting as fast as we can into the building, we are sitting in Josh's car staring at the sign 'Reserved for the Deputy Chief of Staff' because it started him worrying again.

"We walked out together. Don't you think it's going to look strange if we don't?"

"Don't you think it looks strange if we do?"

"Josh, no one will suspect a thing unless we give them a reason to," I say, matter-of-factly. One of us has to keep this in perspective. Deep down, I'm just as scared as Josh is, but I can't let it show. I look over at him with what I hope is self-assurance.

"What if they already do?" Josh asks. "This whole office dating and sexual harassment thing..."

"Is just a coincidence, Josh. That's all," I reply, hoping I sound convincing. "If nothing happened yesterday after the fund raiser, Mandy still would have scheduled that interview today and Teresa Martins was in trouble at Hoynes' office long before we ever happened."

"We only happened yesterday, Donna," Josh reminds me. His hand reaches across the seat to lace his fingers with mine. This--we--happened so fast. Everything with Josh happens so fast. He is in constant motion. We are in constant motion, which explains why we haven't stopped once since we started this yesterday.

Josh's thumb sweeps over the back of my hand. I swallow hard and feel my heart contracting, growing tight with emotion. I'm not falling in love with Josh Lyman. To fall implies you're not actually in love yet and I'm pretty sure I am. I'd tell him right now if I wasn't completely convinced it would send him into a tailspin. He needs to be calm for his meeting with the President. Josh's career has to come first no matter what.

"We better get inside," I say, pulling my hand away and reaching for the door handle before we start doing something much worse than holding hands.

"Yeah, we better," Josh says, climbing out the other side. Without another word, we walk fast back to work. Back to being boss and assistant until it's time for... dinner.

Josh makes a beeline for his office and I let him go ahead, stopping momentarily at the threshold of the bullpen. I watch as he quickly discards his jacket over his chair and rolls up his sleeves, mentally preparing himself to go one on one with the President. If he was nervous before, he doesn't seem nervous now. Good. I take a deep breath and head back to my desk with similar confidence. In fact, don't think anyone even noticed were gone.


I turn around at the sound of Toby's voice, stern and clipped.

"How you doing?" Josh asks, stepping out of his office. "If you want to talk, you're going to have to walk, Toby. I've got a five o'clock with the President. Donna?"


"Can you pull me a copy of the latest harassment policy?" he asks, as both he and Toby cut through the bullpen on their way to the Oval Office.

"Yeah," I say, reaching for the file as they walk on ahead. It doesn't take me very long to catch up behind them, but I leave some distance between me and Josh.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Toby says, frowning immediately.

"Don't worry, Toby. I told you already I'm not going to press charges," Josh quips, strutting a little. Either Josh is on his game again or he's doing a really good job of pretending like he is for Toby.

Toby snuffles. "Why do you smell like the beach?"

"I don't smell like the beach," Josh protests, walking just a little faster and farther away from Toby. He turns the corner and the air that rushes over him is indeed scented like coconut. I make a mental note to buy some Zest or Coast or something for Josh, especially after the way he fussed about my shower gel collection. Razors and shaving cream probably wouldn't be a bad idea either for when he spends the night at my apartment. I need to stop by the drug store anyway.

Josh stops at the President's door and turns around, looking Toby square in the eye. He holds his hand out to me for the file and I drop it into his open palm.

"No, you smell like coconut," Toby repeats, snuffling again. He folds his arms and glares at Josh accusingly.

"Does it turn you on, Toby?" Josh asks, leaning in so close it makes Toby step back. "'cause if it does, maybe later you and I could go back to my place and..." Josh wriggles his hand suggestively.

"That's very funny. You're very funny," Toby says, raising both eyebrows and rocking back on his heels. "I should sue you for harassment and for wasting my time like this. Josh, after you get done with the President, see me."

Toby leaves us and as soon as he's out of earshot, Josh sighs loudly and leans against the door. He wipes his eyes. "Donna..."

"It'll be fine, Josh. You did just fine," I say reassuringly.

"This isn't going to easy, is it?"

"Is anything with me easy?" I ask and Josh starts to smile.

"Do you really want me to answer that?"


Josh Lyman's Apartment

Donna makes tiny circles on my chest with her fingernails and she sighs with contentment. We made it through the day. Made it all the way to dinner.

And dessert.

"When they fire you, do you think they'll make you rewrite the harassment policy before they make you clean out your office?" Donna asks.

"I can't imagine how they could make me rewrite it afterwards. I'm sure the armed guards will see to it that I'm not allowed back in," I say, pulling her closer. Her fingers stop moving across my skin and she takes my hand in hers, our fingers locking together.

We're both aware that if we are found out -- even if she quits and they don't ask for my resignation -- there will be a price to pay. It will cost me the trust of the others. They won't trust me to always tell them the truth. They won't trust me with the next person I call assistant. They'll always think I'm putting myself first. They're right. This time, I am and for some reason, that makes me feel guilty. I have plenty of time to be happy when this administration is out of office, right? But I want something now. Just like with the campaign, I want it all. I have to win. It's just... in me.

Donna puts her head on my shoulder and breathes in deep. "Toby was right. You smell like the beach."

"Is that all I smell like?" I ask with a smile. Toby didn't bring it up again after my meeting with the President. He was more concerned with the town hall meeting later this week than he was with the fact that I smelled like a tourist at Disney World. Donna left at some point when I was ordering Holt around and apparently she made a trip to the drugstore. She's damn efficient.

"No, you smell like... us. We'll call it sex on the beach. Which is a drink you'll be buying me when we finally get to St. Barts," she says, snuggling in even closer, her face pressed near mine.

"I will not be seen with you if you're going to sip drinks that come with paper umbrellas."

"Oh, you'll be seen with me. I know you will because once you get a look at me in my bikini you'll be following me everywhere," she says. She lets my hand go so she can start that thing with her fingernails again.

"Donna, I've seen you out of your bikini. I've seen you in nothing. What makes you think a bikini will be enticing to me now?" I say. My hands travel over her body, feeling her smooth skin. She smells like... vanilla. I'm sure that was one of the many fragrances available at her own personal aromatherapy day spa she has going on in her bathroom.

"Others will be looking at me in my bikini. I know you. As much as you hate the sun, you'll come along just so you can strut around and be happy that the person in the bikini is with you."

"I don't 'strut.' Besides, I'm not exactly the jealous type, Donna," I say. "I've endured bigger heartbreaks than realizing some drooling bozo tourist is staring at my girlfriend."

"You only say that because you haven't seen me in my bikini yet."

"We could go skiing instead. Then we won't have to worry about people staring at you in a bikini. Next winter..."

"I don't have skis, thanks to you." Even though it's dark, I can hear the pout in her voice as she interrupts me.

"We can rent some."

"People will still be staring because I bet I look hot in ski pants."

"Yeah, I bet you do," I say, pulling her so I can kiss her. "I bet you do."


The End




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