AUTHOR: Demon Faith
EMAIL: rosabeth@hotmail.com
CATEGORY: Josh/Donna, Donna POV
SPOILERS: General seasons one and two, with specific reference to The Shooting. Mentions of events in ‘War Crimes’ and reference to a line in ‘Ways and Means’.
SEASON/SEQUEL: Sometime after ‘War Crimes’.
RATING: PG-13 (sexual situations)
SUMMARY: ‘You realise you’re a bit like pie. It seems like a strange thing to say, but you know it’s true for you and for him.’
DISCALIMER: They are not mine. :( Please don’t sue me, Mr Sorkin.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Based on Josh’s own proclamation. I discovered a note I’d written, reminding me to write something for the line, and decided that now would be a good time. Especially since I’m supposed to be doing some work.
Joshua Lyman is undeniably one of the most obnoxious men alive. He has a way of realising exactly what it is that will hurt you and then proceeds to use it to undermine you. It’s part of his political nature. It’s what makes him such an integral part of the administration.
But when he turns his venom on you, when he gets downright personal, and lashes you to the point of cruelty, you wonder how you could possibly love this man. Yet, damnit, that’s what’s happened, isn’t it? You never thought this calculating politician could do anything but hurt you. On your first meeting, he cracked all your defences and exposed the fragile withered soul beneath. And then, without a second thought, used himself as your wall of defence, and wouldn’t hear a word against you. He puzzles you, this man.
So, here you are, thinking about him and just how cruel he can be, and you come to the conclusion that you’re in love. You’re a puzzle to yourself, an enigma. For how can anyone love someone who has the ability to hurt you and will? Because he fixes you, and holds you up again. He makes it all better with simple words.
You’ve seen him broken too. Thought he hated it, hardly able to stand the humiliation and the helplessness, you helped him. You were his wall, his support, and it was refreshing, it made you feel valuable. You liked to feel valuable. He forget for a while that he could hurt you, and though there were times you could’ve crushed him, you held back, because you needed his strength and his support. Even at his lowest point, he was supporting you, though you doubt he even knew it.
And then, he didn’t need you. He went back to himself, except with more venom and less building. He lashed at you, and forgot to fix you, crumbled your defences and only left them half-built. And as you saw him break, you realised you were breaking too. That this was it, he was going to destroy you, and you couldn’t tell him he was wrong, you couldn’t stop it. Because he was hurting so badly, and you could tell. You could tell that just one nudge and he’d fall away from you with no one to catch him. You were the only one who could catch him, but you weren’t strong enough anymore. You were too broken to stop him breaking.
He got better. You made sure he did. You joked and you laughed together, you spent time with him, stealing his beer and his food. You realised that gradually he was taking over your life, that you had no one else but him. It scared you, it didn’t seem like you were anything but what you were with him. Except you weren’t with him – he remained distant and detached.
He’s a cruel man, Josh Lyman. Yet, you’re sitting on his doorstep, getting soaked in the rain. You’re not really sure why you’re there, except that he’s still angry with you. He’s angry because of Cliff, because you did something stupid and you lied to protect him. You would do it again. You’d do anything to protect him. Because, if you protect him, you protect yourself, and you couldn’t live if he shattered right before your eyes, if he fell and you weren’t falling with him.
He approaches now, surprised to see you on his doorstep. You’re soaked, you’re a mess, and you’re shivering from the cold. He gathers you up in his arms, because you’re too frozen to move, and he carries you into his apartment. Carefully, he lays you on the sofa, chiding you for being here, his voice questioning your presence. He runs a bath for you, and you realise he’s peeling off your wet clothes. He stops, checking himself, and smiling shyly. He’s embarrassed.
He picks you up, now that you’re almost bare before him, and places you in the warm water. It isn’t hot, and it’s just right for someone who looks like they’re about to freeze. He calls to you about clothes and coffee, but you’re not listening. There’s something about being in his house, with him only a few feet away, having seen your bluish alabaster skin and being embarrassed. There’s something, but you’re not sure what.
He comes for you in a few minutes, and you can speak now, sufficiently warm. You tell him that you’re sorry, and he shushes you, helping to dry your numb limbs and put on some warm sweats. He guides you to a chair in the kitchen, and places coffee in front of you. He starts to talk, and you think he’s about to show his cruelty, to lash out and call you stupid and pass comment on your self-worth. You don’t expect his soft, indulgent tone, his sincere heartfelt thanks for considering him. You don’t expect him to touch your warming cheek with his fingers, and smile at you that way. You don’t expect him to kiss you, holding you against him, arms surrounding you as your defence.
You didn’t expect him to be as sweet as pecan pie, to be so tender as you made love and to tell you in a whisper that you meant the world to him. You didn’t expect to fall asleep in his bed, encircled by his arms.
You realise then that he’s not obnoxious after all. He’s just a little scared, like you are. A bit defensive, uncertain of your future together. Because that’s what it is – you knew from the moment you met him. You had to stay together, or you would shatter. You realise that you crumbled his defences too and now you’re the only thing protecting him. And, somehow, that’s okay. Because when you feel his breath on your neck, and his strong body next to yours, nothing else matters. That’s the nature of love.
You realise you’re a bit like pie. It seems like a strange thing to say, but you know it’s true for you and for him. Your hard outer crust, only lightly dusted in sugar, protects you from everything around you and your soft inner filling is sweet and saccharine, and you can’t tell one original part from another. They’re all mixed and entwined together, inseparable. Their defence is one, their sugar heart is one. And you think that’s a bit like you and Josh.
When he stirs beside you, you tell him about your theories on pie, and he chuckles. He says that your lips taste of pecan pie, and you blush. He kisses you then, and you surrender yourself, because he’s your protector. He can hurt you, but he won’t. You trust that he won’t. That’s the nature of love.