THE WEST WING:
PINOCCHIO

by RJB

DISCLAIMER: The West Wing belongs to Aaron Sorkin, John Wells Productions, and/or NBC. It certainly does not belong to me. This is non-profit fan fiction; no money is involved and no infringement is intended.

TIMELINE: This story takes place immediately after the Inauguration 2-parter in Season Four. Much of the plot is based on that episode and the surrounding ones.

--

Donna Moss tried her key in the lock, fully expecting it to get stuck, which it did. So she jiggled it, and for a second she thought it was going to pop open... until it stuck again.

'Stuck' might have been too mild a word, she thought. 'Fused' was a better one. Somehow the individual molecules of metal from her key and her lock had bonded together in defiance of all known laws of physics, and they had done this for the same reason Donna had known her key would stick in the lock: Because the Universe delighted in making Donna Moss, who was a perfectly intelligent and sophisticated person inside her own mind, look like a confused mess in the presence of others. Like a hick just off the turnip truck from Wisconsin, assuming Wisconsin grew turnips, which it didn't really, but that wouldn't make any difference to the sort of people before whom she looked like a confused mess, especially not to--

"You gotta-- you know-- turn that in a counter-clockwise direction," said Josh Lyman, who on most days was the Deputy White House Chief of Staff. Tonight he better resembled a Popsicle: He stood on Donna's doorstep stamping his feet, exhaling steam with every breath, and shivering each time the wind kicked up-- not least because Donna was still wearing his coat. She glowered at him for the remark, but couldn't entirely withhold her sympathy for Josh's condition. It was a cold night, if it could even still be called night.

The sky was already turning from black to blue, and soon enough the sun would dawn on Washington's second official day of the second Josiah Bartlett administration, even as it set on the Republic of Equatorial Kundu, where that administration had announced its solemn intention to send troops. So the previous evening, which had begun with Donna suspected of a major scandal, had proceeded to an elegant night of attending balls and pretending she wanted to dance with people besides Josh and concluded with several hours of doing the political grunt work involved in remaking the face of the globe. Just another night at the White House.

Donna struggled with the key again. It budged, just to taunt her-- and then it bent.

"Arrgh! Come ON!" she snarled, wrestling the doorknob with both hands.

"You're sure you're not turning it clockwise?" Josh suggested, looking over her shoulder. As Donna had feared, he was enjoying this too much.

"No, you know what, I'm not totally sure. Could you explain to me what it means when the big hand is on the twelve?"

"I'm just saying, you seem to be having some trouble with the..."

"It's a security feature!" Donna snapped. She pulled with all her might, and the key popped free of the lock. Of course, the door still wasn't open, but she was making progress.

"You want me to try that?" Josh suggested innocently.

"I can open my own door, Josh. I help chart the course of the Free World, I think I can unlock a door."

Josh laughed. Donna always marveled at the way he managed to make a tiny little laugh sound so insufferable.

"I'm curious: In what way do you think you chart the course of the Free World?"

"Not directly. My power is more shadowy. It's Machiavellian."

Josh blinked. "Did you just call me your puppet?"

"If the strings fit, Pinocchio..."

"You're sure you wouldn't like me to...?"

"No!" said Donna. She circled the lock, looking for an opening. "This lock is not going to defeat me. This will not be my Saratoga."

"Okay, we're gonna have to work on both your knowledge of history and your overuse of metaphors."

Annoyed now, Donna whirled on him. "What are you even doing on my doorstep, Frosty?"

"Me?" Josh shuffled his feet. "I'm... walking you home..."

"I didn't ask to be walked home."

"I know, but it's... on my way."

Donna frowned. "We passed your place like 15 minutes ago."

"It's on my way, via shortcut."

"Via shortcut?"

"Yeah." Josh sighed, exhaling enough steam to power a good-sized locomotive. "No. I was just... I was worried about you, 'cause of the... thing..."

"With Jack?"

"Yeah."

Donna smiled. Lieutenant Commander Jack Reese, her boyfriend of the last few months, had precipitated the scandal and let Donna take the fall for it. Being a gentleman, Jack had protested the idea. Being a gentleman who didn't really love her in the way one might wish to be loved by one's boyfriend, he hadn't protested too hard.

And then there was Josh, who... was Josh. Whatever negative things you could say about him, and Donna had a list that was running into its third volume, he defended his friends to the death. And Donna abruptly realized she'd been staring into his eyes for about half a beat too long.

"I'm fine," she said, as the moment passed.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Listen, two pints of Rocky Road and I'll be right back on my game."

"Okay. Good." Josh cleared his throat. "Hey, not for nothing, but... he wasn't good enough for you."

Donna scoffed. "He was a decorated Navy officer and an American hero!"

"Yeah, well... I'm not saying he wasn't almost good enough for you..."

"Okay, then who is?"

"What?" Josh pretended not to have heard the question. "Sorry, what?"

Donna set hands on her hips. "If he wasn't good enough, who is?"

"I don't know... a lot of guys. It's not like I keep a list..."

"Oh, but I think you do," said Donna, smirking. "Please enlighten me, Josh--"

"Wild Thing, remember. We've discussed this."

"I remember, and for your general information, jokes have a shelf life. That once, for example, was funny the first fourteen times tonight. Now we're moving into Time Fifteen, and--"

"Not funny?" Josh guessed.

"Not as funny," said Donna. "But more to the point, Wild Thing, about your list of guys who are worthy of me--"

"There's no list!"

"About your list," Donna continued, conscious that she'd stepped a little closer to him while doing so, "I think there's only one name on it. I think somehow, in your colossal arrogance which I pretend is cute but I'm usually lying, you've searched the globe and come to the conclusion that the one truly worthy male on it is Josh Lyman."

Josh grinned. "That's not true. There's a couple guys in China..."

"And the rest look to you for inspiration. You bestride the world like a... bestridey thing."

"Okay, we're adding English Lit to the remedial class." Josh pointed at the door. "You were gonna open that, right?"

"I'm trying!" said Donna, who had not been trying for several minutes. She turned toward the door, fumbling with her keys again, before snapping her fingers and turning a complete circle. "This is what you meant!"

"I meant you should open the damn door! Icicles are forming!"

"At Christmas. This is what you meant when you almost kept me away from Jack and said 'This isn't what it looks like.'"

Josh showed no reaction, which meant she'd hit the mark. He was wearing his 'Yes, Senator, I'm screwed if I don't get your vote but I'd rather you didn't know that' face. "Wait. Wait, see, what I meant was..."

"You meant that the thought of me and Jack filled your heart with an inexpressible darkness. Was that it, Josh? Was it that your heart was full of inexpressible darkness?"

"Well... yeah..." said Josh, "but the darkness was kickin' around in there already. Just ask any Republican."

"Fine," said Donna, turning back to the door, which had still failed to unlock itself. "You play your games. But from now on, I'll know the truth and you'll know that I know. And I'll know that you know that I know--"

"I'm sorry, are we in an Abbott and Costello routine right now?" Josh stepped forward so that he could peer over Donna's shoulder at the lock-- or maybe just steal her body heat. "And by the way, please, let's not pretend I'm the only one who ever gets jealous!"

"I don't feel jealousy. Josh. It's not in my wholesome, Midwestern nature."

"So you never felt jealous of me and Amy Gardner? Not for one second?"

Donna fought her instinct to turn toward him again, which would have left them face-to-face and probably closer than was wise. So she struggled with the key again, yanking the doorknob from side to side. "ArrrGGGGH... what is with this door?! Is it like a KGB-surplus door from the former Soviet Union, bent on destroying our way of life by keeping us awake all night?"

"Yeah," said Josh, "you're absolutely a logical first-strike target."

"I am. It's 'cause of my shadowy power."

"I'm still waiting for an answer here, Geppetto. You're never jealous?"

"Of course not!" said Donna, wishing they were further apart so he couldn't hear her heart thudding in her chest. "I'm not jealous of Amy. I like Amy. I think you should go for it with her."

"I already did! When we were dating, Amy and I went for it so many times--"

"Okay! Point made! Maybe not so much with the details."

Even facing away from Josh, she could tell he was grinning. Donna hoped her own blush was harder to read. If the door didn't open in three seconds, she had thoughts of kicking it in.

"Was that jealousy?"

"No, it's just-- ungentlemanly."

"Right, I forgot your love of officers and gentlemen. By the way, O wielder of Pinocchio references, your nose is growing there a little bit..."

"I mean it. You should have fun with Amy before the final breakup inevitably comes."

"It's inevitable?" Josh challenged. "You have that direct from the Oracle of Madison, Wisconsin?"

"You did get her fired last time, so it's not exactly a low-percentage bet..."

"I fire lots of people! I fire you twice a day!"

"Yes, but I get you, and not everybody does."

"Sam does. I think Sam gets me."

"Problem solved, then. You'll end up with Sam and make a lovely couple. Mazel tov."

"It's because I'm a complex figure."

"What was that?"

Donna didn't have to turn around to know the look on Josh's face was almost comically pleased with himself. "The reason people don't get me. It's because I'm complex..."

"It's actually because you're incredibly simple and think you're complex. Which reminds me, if Amy needs any advice on the part where she humors you, you should definitely send her my-- AHA!" Donna cried, as the key finally clicked in the lock.

She dove through the door and bathed in the unexpected warmth. She turned, about to offer Josh a cup of coffee and a chance to thaw, but he was still standing on the stoop, just... looking at her.

"What?" Donna asked, sure this time she couldn't hide the blush.

"Sorry, it's just... you really did look great tonight."

"Thanks. You were very sweet, coming here with the guys and the..."

"Yeah. Hey, it's almost time for work tomorrow. I should get going." Josh glanced at the doorknob. "In future I should have, like, a key to this place."

"A key?"

"You know... for national emergencies, in case the Welsh start bombing Denmark or... you know, your door won't open."

"Or in case I'm accidentally able to grab a few hours of solitude and establish a life outside your sphere of influence?"

"Yeah, I think that'd be a big problem for... the Danes..."

Josh looked at Donna. Donna looked at Josh. They both started to laugh.

"I worry sometimes that the President lets you fire missiles," Donna said at length.

"He doesn't let me fire missiles."

"As well he shouldn't."

Josh was still looking at her in that pseudo-macho man way he had. "It's cute sometimes, right?"

Donna cocked her head to one side. "Sorry?"

"Before... you said you pretend I'm cute but you're usually lying. Sometimes you're not, right?"

"Sometimes."

Josh smiled. He had to be freezing to death. Donna was freezing just holding the door open. He didn't seem to mind, and he really did look great in his tux, with the wind ruffling his hair. Half a minute passed before Donna cleared her throat.

"Josh, you know... if you stand there long enough... there's a real danger I'll invite you inside?"

"I know," he said. Then he blinked. "Sorry, I know... I'm sure you meant to encourage me not to stand here, and on most nights I'm sure it would, but tonight... I can't remember why."

Not least because she was feeling slightly amnesiac herself, Donna said, "Wild Thing?"

"Yeah?"

"Beat it."

"Okay."

Josh stepped down toward the road, hugging himself for warmth. That's when Donna realized she'd been more than slightly amnesiac. "Hey, your coat! You'll catch your death!"

"People actually say that?"

"You want to snark at me, Bunky, or you want the coat?"

"The coat, please."

"'Cause it's a long way home, and with the wind chill..."

"Give me the damn coat!"

Donna ran back out into the cold, shrugging off the coat he'd loaned her as she went. Her right hand slipped into the pocket, where she felt something crumpled up...

"What's this?"

"That's nothing. Will you--"

Donna pulled it out and unfolded a piece of paper with writing hastily scrawled on it. She squinted at it in the early light...

"Hey! If I told you that was classified Top Secret, would you stop reading it?"

"Is this what I...?"

Josh's hand came down atop hers. "It's nothing, alright? It's a traffic ticket."

"You got it tonight?"

"Yeah, when I was--" He averted his eyes. "When I came here with Danny and the guys in the-- in the thing-- well, there was a traffic light, and I said-- I wouldn't let 'em stop for it."

"You didn't stop for...?" Donna felt her voice catch, and took a deep breath.

"After he wrote the ticket, the cop recognized us. Toby told him the President needed us for-- I dunno, saving the whales on short notice-- and he let us off with a warning. I just crumpled that up." Josh smiled. "Can I have my coat?"

"Yeah..." said Donna. She handed over the garment, but her hand was still wrapped around the crinkled paper. "I'm gonna keep this, though. I'm gonna keep it as a reminder of how supportive you've been about this dumb thing I did, and how dumb you've been about the supportive things I've done. The yin and yang of Josh."

"Okay." Josh accepted the coat and folded it over his arm. He was still smiling in that same way. It was ten degrees outside, Donna was wearing a ball gown, and she was absolutely roasting.

She held out her other hand to Josh. "Here."

"What's this?"

"Something I crumbled up." When Josh saw it was the key she'd bent in the lock, she shrugged. "I have a spare someplace."

"I was kidding about the..."

"I know. And good luck getting that thing to work. It's just a memento." Donna held his eyes. "When I want you to have a key, you'll know it."

Josh put the memento in his pocket. "Well-played, Geppetto."

"Thank you."

"Good night."

"Good morning."

Josh strolled in the other direction, none too quickly. Donna headed back toward her door, similarly unhurried. She looked in his direction twice; the second time, she caught him looking back. Donna smiled to herself as she reached her door--

Until a sudden gust of wind blew it shut in her face.

Donna swore under her breath. "JOSH!"

Like any good puppet, he was already on his way back.