Rating: PG, Angst
Pairing: Charlie/Donna
Spoilers: Post Hoc Ergo Propter Hoc, The State Dinner
Feedback: Makes my day
Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine.
Archive: At my site The Band Gazebo (helsinkibaby.ahkay.net) Anywhere else please ask first.
Summary: The night wasn't supposed to be like this…

It's almost a relief to come into this room and sit down beside you. The corridor outside is crowded with people, all of whom want to know how you're doing, not that there's much we can tell them at the moment. After all, we're not going to know how much damage there is until you wake up, and there's no way of knowing when that's going to be. The anxiety out there is almost unbearable, and it's all the worse because of the slow burn that Josh is doing. He's liable to explode any minute, just another reason that I'm in here and not out there.

This isn't the way that it was supposed to be, you know that better than anyone. We worked out a dozen scenarios about how you could break the news that we were involved to him, and from a beach in Hawaii was the top of your list. In none of the scenarios was I standing in a hospital corridor, my wrist taped up, gauze held to a gash on my head, explaining to him why we were in a car together heading back to your place. In none of them did he come to the hospital, who called him because his number was in your wallet, marked "In case of emergency." In none of them were the rest of the Senior Staff with him, because they were all with Josh when he got the call. In none of them did I have to explain myself without the warm reassurance of your hand in mine. They were all stunned, but CJ, Will and Toby were at least calm about it. Josh totally lost it, though I'm convinced it's more to do with the fact that none of us knew if you were alive or dead when all this was going on more so than any disapproval he might want to express over our relationship.

That's what I'm telling myself, but I'm not buying it either.

This isn't the way that the night was supposed to go, you know that too. All those people who are out there were supposed to be gathered in the West Wing of the White House, celebrating the fact that the Democrats just kicked some Republican ass in the Midterm elections, taking back the house, giving us a real chance of getting something substantial done during our last two years in office. They weren't supposed to end the night in a hospital corridor, and you weren't supposed to be in a hospital bed. You were supposed to be in my bed, as the two of us had a private celebration of our own. I was supposed to be watching you sleep in my arms, like I've done so many times in the last year.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

I remember the first night I kissed you; it seems like a lifetime ago now. There was a state dinner on, which didn't mean that you and I had a nice relaxing time, just the opposite in fact. You were running after Josh, I was running after the President, and despite our fine clothes, we didn't get to see much of the dinner. It was late that night when all crises were finally averted that we met up in my office, began commiserating over not having had a chance to enjoy the dinner. Which reminded us that neither of us had eaten, and that we were both starving. You got this gleam in your eyes, which I've since learned means trouble, and suggested raiding the kitchen. I knew that I should say it was a bad idea, knew that we shouldn't, but what could I do when you looked at me like that? Which is how we ended up sneaking in there like a couple of kids, helping ourselves to whatever leftovers we could scrounge before disappearing to a basement office where we knew we wouldn't be found. We must've been down there for an hour at least, sitting side by side on a desk in an empty office, laughing and talking, and somewhere in the middle of it all, I leaned across and kissed you. I thought you'd push me away, thought you'd tell me all the reasons why this was a bad idea.

But you kissed me back.

The first night we spent together was about a month after that, because you explained to me that you wanted to take it slowly. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin our friendship you said, and considering the luck you'd had with gomers in the past, you wanted to be sure before you jumped into anything. I didn't say anything, just waited patiently until you were sure, because I knew I wanted you, and I didn't care how long it took. I was nobody's gomer, and I wanted to be sure you knew that.

The first night we spent together though, was well worth the wait.

Not that you made it easy on us, oh no. I woke up the next morning, expecting to see you lying there beside me. Instead, I saw you halfway across the room, getting dressed, and when I called your name, you jumped and turned, a guilty expression on your face. I knew what you were doing, that you were getting ready to leave, and I didn't even try to keep the hurt out of my face or voice as I asked you why.

"It's not you…" you said haltingly, your face falling. "I just…" You couldn't say anything else, couldn't come up with anything at first. "There are so many reasons why this could go wrong," you finally said, and I was all prepared to counter any of them. "The job," was the first thing you said.

"We both work long hours," I acknowledged. "But they're pretty much the same long hours. Or-" And this is where something occurred to me. "Are you afraid people will talk about us?"

A wry smile spread across your face. "It wouldn't be the first time people have talked about me," you pointed out. "Or you." I had to give you that one. "And there's the age thing too…."

I rolled my eyes. "You're four years older than me," I said flatly. "That hardly makes you Mrs Robinson." A thought occurred to me then, and I gave voice to it, hoping humour would help diffuse the situation. "Although, if you want to try some role playing…"

The look on your face as you realised what I'd said was priceless. Your mouth dropped open, eyes wide with surprise, and you squeaked out my name in what sounded like shock. "That's not funny," you said, and you tried to be all stern about it, but the tiny quiver at the corners of your mouth gave you away, and before long we were both laughing. You came back over to the bed then, dropping onto it, still giggling, and I sat up, taking you in my arms. You went willingly, resting your head on my shoulder. "I'm being silly, aren't I?" you asked, and I shrugged with the other shoulder.

"A little," I told you. "But I'm used to it." That made you lift your head in a hurry, the same expression on your face as had been there a minute before, and you said my name in exactly the same tone of voice. This time, you also slapped at my chest gently, to which I retaliated by tickling you. This, I learned, is something you hate, because you're extremely ticklish, and you were squirming in my arms, trying to get away. Somewhere in the middle of all that, we got to kissing, which lead to other places, and we both had to rush to get ready for work that morning.

Ever since then, we've been together, keeping it on the down low at work, and no-one had guessed until tonight. Until Josh walked into the hospital and saw me waiting here too.

Of all the people to find out first, he wasn't the one I would have picked. You've always teased me gently about Josh, telling me that I don't have anything to worry about, but I know better. I've been around the two of you enough to know that there's a vibe there, and it doesn’t matter that you share my bed, that you tell me I'm the one you want to be with. Irrational as it is, I'm afraid that all he has to do is say the word and you'll go running to him.

You'd roll your eyes if you could hear me say that, and I'd give anything for you to do that now.

I remember the first time I saw you, way back when. I was so terrified to be in the West Wing of the White House, sure that there'd been some kind of mistake. I didn't know why Debbie sent me to see Josh, after all, I was just there for the job of bike messenger. I didn't want anything else. But Debbie sent me to see you, and the second I set eyes on you, I was blown away. I thought you were the most perfect thing I'd ever seen. You showed me to the Roosevelt Room, told me that you were going to get Josh, and when you came back with him, I noticed that vibe straight away. You two had your own rhythm going on, him giving you his lunch order, reading some memo and telling you that you couldn't make up your own words. I was so freaked that your fast paced patter was hard to follow, but I remember being impressed that you wouldn't take anything from this guy, when I could barely string a sentence together.

I've had a crush on you ever since then, even when I was dating Zoey, even though I thought - no, I knew- that I didn't have a cat in hell's chance with you.

Then we raided a kitchen and you kissed me back and proved me wrong.

We've done that a lot in our lives, you and I. We've fought against the odds, done things that people never thought we'd do. I mean, c'mon, a girl with no college degree talks herself into a job on a political campaign and ends up as the Assistant to the Deputy Chief of Staff, and a black kid with no parents and no college education goes to the White House for a messenger job and ends up as the President's Body Man? What do you think the odds are on that happening, much less that they'd hook up, even fall in love?

You're good at beating the odds Donna, and I need you to do it one more time, because I've lost too many women that I love; I'm not losing you too.

I did a reading at my mother's funeral.

I did a reading at Mrs Landingham's funeral.

Don't make me do another reading for you.

Please Donna, wake up.

For me.