Two Weeks

Summary: What would've happened if Josh had been given the chance to change Donna's mind? Angst/Romance/Humor

Author's Notes: This is set the day Donna quits and takes a hard left turn away from cannon after the words, "I quit."

He knows it's coming. He can see it in the way she looks at him, her eyes squinted in frustration, and in the way she talks to him, her voice with an edge of anger to it. And although she might disagree, he's no idiot. He knows she's unhappy; both with her job and with him. One of those two things bothers him more than the other, but he's still denying that to himself. Or… he's denying it again. He stopped denying it for a short period of time, but then a man walked in with flowers and kissed her in front of him. Now he's back to denial.

He's been racking his brain for a way to stop her from leaving him, but he hasn't found it, so he puts her off, ignores her non verbal and often verbal clues, pretends everything is fine when it's so apparent that nothing is. And so far he's been successful. Six lunches, cancelled. It's easy to do really. There are always things coming up, always things of national importance, always things he can say can't wait. He feels bad for putting her off like that; he'd love to have lunch with her. In fact, he misses having lunch with her. But he has to keep it up until he finds a way to stop her.

He's kept his ear to the ground lately. She's had three interviews and two offers. Clearly the third was a complete idiot and doesn't deserve her service. He was tempted to call and tell the man that, then he remembered that he's trying to stop all this from happening anyway.

But the two offers… both of them are for more money and more responsibility. He knows she doesn't care about the money, at least not enough to make it factor into her decision, but she craves the responsibility and she'll get it with either of these. He's not proud of it, but he dropped a hint or two himself, and he thinks one of the offers will be rescinded soon.

He's looked into the legislative department. There could be an opening there. It's down a floor from him, at least a three minute walk from his office, but it's in the building, so he might be able to live with it. But it doesn't solve their problem, not the real one, and if it's not going to be a solution, there's no reason to let her go that far.

He's looked into the east wing as well, put out feelers, mentioned to Dr. Bartlet that she could use someone on staff who's more familiar with the players on the Hill but still has clout with the west wing. That's farther; at least a four minute walk from his office, but it could help to solve the real problem.

Of course, lately she doesn't seem interested in solving the real problem. He's become peppermint stuck in her teeth and the little boy she hates taking care of, and she's just so damn angry. With him, yes, but with herself too he thinks.

He thinks they took a wrong turn somewhere along the way and he wonders when it was. Cliff Calley, Amy Gardner, Jack Reece… they seem like the logical answer, but he doesn't really think they are. None of them mattered enough. Maybe it was that she wandered into his office that day instead of Sam's or CJ's or Toby's. If she'd worked for someone else… But he doesn't think that's it either. They were a great team. Are… are a great team, at least for a little while longer. And had she not taken that leap of courage and he that leap of faith all those years ago, he doesn't think they'd be the same now. He knows he wouldn't be. But still, there was a wrong turn, or several, and he can't help wishing they could just start over.

Which leads to option number three. The upcoming election's a mess. Baker's dropped out, leaving Hoynes and Bingo Bob as the front runners. President Bingo Bob or sex on the seal with 20 year old interns, he can't decide which is worse. Except that neither of them will beat Vinick, which means that everything he sacrificed for will be undone. Leo wants him to deal with it, to find the next Bartlet. He thinks he may have, and if he and Donna went away to run the man's campaign maybe they could start over. Go back to the beginning, to their beginning, and go about it in a whole new way. But he doesn't know if she even wants that anymore. He's sure she did once, but he doesn't see that doe-eyed look of adoration from her anymore. He misses that look.

He's been arguing with Will for almost two full minutes this time when she comes up, saving him again. They begin down the hallway together flawlessly, their own version of an intricate waltz both in step and in conversation. Who would he walk with if she were in the east wing?

"We're having our conversation now."

He starts to panic as he always does when she brings this conversation up, but quickly shakes it off. "Don't you think it would be irresponsible for me to leave this administration before the end of the second term?" he asks, knowing her well enough to know she's asking herself the same question.

"It's a conversation about me, not you," she shoots back in anger.

It disappoints him that she didn't read into his last sentence; he was hoping to give her pause. No matter, there are ways to avoid the conversation and he comes up with one quickly. "I got to get over to the OEOB."

"You have to sit down and talk to me, that's what you have to do."

"You're very demanding today," he says, giving her a sideways glance before taking the conversation back to him. He just needs thirty more seconds of bullshit, then he'll pass through the door out of the bullpen and she won't follow. "Even Leo thinks I should be wandering the American byways in search of the next president."

"I quit."

His heart stops beating on the spot and somehow he just knows that toying with her anymore could kill them. She's standing a few feet back; she stopped as she said the words and his momentum took him a few steps forward, putting a distance between them that makes him queasy. It takes him a second to muster the strength to move, but then he's taking her arm firmly and hauling her the opposite way towards his office. She stumbles a bit, but then walks with him silently. "Hold all my calls, Janice," he shouts over his shoulder.

"CJ's been…"

"All of them," he says closing the door behind them.

Once the door's closed, he stares at it for a few seconds before turning to face her. She looks resolute but not angry, and he bites back the anger coursing through him. He knew this was going to happen, so he's not sure why he's suddenly so pissed off.

"Josh…"

"No," he says resolutely.

She straightens herself out, standing taller, and suddenly she does look angry. "This isn't your decision to make. I've been trying to talk to you about this for weeks."

"Then talk to me," he spits out.

She chuckles harshly. "You've been ignoring me for three weeks and suddenly you want to talk?"

"I haven't been ignoring you; I've been putting this off."

She's quiet for a second. "You knew," she states as fact.

He stares at her before nodding crisply. Of course he knew.

"You talked to Ruthersford? Got him to take back the offer?"

There's no use denying it, but he doesn't admit it either. Still, she knows him well, so she has her answer. Fury takes hold of her face and she steps forward and grabs the door handle. He steps between her and the door, pushing it closed and leaning against it. "No."

She glares at him. "I just quit; you don't get to tell me no anymore."

"Yeah," he snaps. "Let's talk about that. You just quit the job I gave you a chance to do. When you had nothing, including qualifications, I gave you a job and now you just announce…"

"I tried to talk to you about it," she screams, tears pricking her eyes.

He leans over and put his hands on his thighs, hanging his head. This isn't getting them anywhere and it certainly isn't the reason he dragged her into his office. He takes several deep breaths and looks up at her again. She's even angrier and the tears in her eyes are gone.

He sighs. "What can I do to get you to stay?"

She glares at him. "Absolutely nothing."

"I'm sorry I talked to Ruthersford."

"No you're not."

She's right, so he doesn't insist upon it. Instead, he appeals to her sense of loyalty. It's a low blow, but he's spent so long avoiding this conversation that he failed to prepare for it. "I need you. We only have a year left to do what we came here to do. You're abandoning me now?"

"I'm not abandoning you," she says without remorse. "I'm quitting my job. A few hundred people have quit working for you over the last seven years."

"I don't give a shit about a few hundred people. We're talking about you. You I trusted to stay."

"I know you need someone who knows where your dry cleaning is, but…" she trails off, landing her own low blow.

"This isn't about my dry cleaning."

"It isn't? Not even a little?" she asks doubtfully with raised eyebrows.

"That's why you're quitting?" he asks incredulously. "Because of errands?"

She closes her eyes and when she opens them again she's calmer, less angry. "I need more responsibility," she says evenly.

He shrugs. "Okay, we'll pass the smaller things onto Janice. Find you more to do."

Her anger subsides a bit more and she almost smiles. "You've given me as much responsibility as you can in this position. You and I both know that. It's just not enough anymore."

"I'm not enough anymore, you mean."

Her eyes widen and she looks quickly away. "This isn't personal," she says quietly.

"The hell it isn't," he shouts and they're back to this. "You think I can't tell that you're pissed at me?"

She shakes her head furiously back and forth. "I'm not pissed at you."

"Bullshit! You've been pissed at me since you got back from…" He stops suddenly and the room fills with a deafening silence.

"I'm not mad," she finally says. "I'm…" she stops and takes a deep breath, then sinks into a visitor's chair. "…frustrated. I'm frustrated with this job and doing things I've outgrown. And that makes me frustrated with you, because you expect me to do those things. Which… I know, it's my job to do them, but…"

"What about another department? Legislation, the first lady's office…"

"There's only a year left here, Josh. I need to find something to take me past this."

It's happening. He's done everything he can to stop it, but it's happening anyway. He slouches away from the door and sits in the chair next to her, then rubs his hands over his face and through his hair. "Don't go," he says, looking at the floor.

"I can't stay here just because I enjoy working with you."

He wants to ask her if she can stay just because she enjoys being with him, but he's afraid of the answer. "So this is it; you're giving me your two weeks notice?" he asks the floor.

"I… I was…" she stops and he looks over at her.

"What?"

"I was planning on giving you two weeks three weeks ago."

His eyes widen. "You're not giving me two weeks?" he asks in that high squeaky voice of his that he hates.

She looks forward, not meeting his eyes, something she's done a lot over the last few months. "I think it's best if…"

"I need two weeks," he says adamantly, as if there's no question and he won't accept anything else.

She looks over at him then and the anger's back. "So you can call the EPA and get my other offer rescinded?"

The thought certainly crossed his mind and he almost smiles at how well she knows him. "I won't." She scoffs and looks away again. "I won't," he says again, quieter and more serious this time.

She looks down at her lap and his eyes follow to see her ringing her hands. She's considering it; it's the best news he's received since they left the bullpen. Two weeks would give him time to… he doesn't know what, but something.

"You don't want to work for the EPA anyway; you can find something better than that." Her hands stop fiddling and ball into fists, and he's quick to reiterate. "But if it's what you decide to take, I won't stand in your way."

Her hands relax again and she looks up. He follows and looks at her. "I wanted to be the legislative director for Senator Ruthersford."

He knows that, which is why he'd made sure that wouldn't happen. "You want me to call him back?"

She shakes her head. "He already filled it."

'Good,' he thinks, but is smart enough not to say out loud. "Then give me two weeks; find something else that you really want." She starts chewing on her bottom lip; she's considering it again. "You can put me down as a reference."

She scoffs again. "Right."

He raises his eyebrows. "I'll be good."

"Of course you will," she deadpans and he smiles a little; things have relaxed. It's the worst possible situation he can imagine, but she's not as angry and they're almost bantering. Not quite, but almost.

"I will," he says with a grin. "I'll even pretend that you're valuable."

She grins back at him, albeit reluctant. "I am valuable."

He shrugs noncommittally. "If you say so."

The room's quiet for a few seconds and then she stands up. "Two weeks, effective immediately."

His smile widens and he stands up with her. "It might take you a while to…"

"Two weeks," she says pointedly, cutting him off.

"Fine. Two weeks… or so."

"Josh…"

"You shouldn't rush into another job. Take your time, field your offers. I'll help, it'll be fun."

"You will absolutely not help."

"But…"

"And in two weeks, I expect you to take me to lunch to celebrate my new job. Someplace nice."

His smile becomes somber and he shakes his head. "Dinner. You deserve dinner."

Her smile fades and tears glisten her eyes, making them brighter. It takes her a few seconds to reign in her emotions and then she nods and leaves quietly. Once she's gone, he falls back into the visitor's chair. Two weeks. He's got two weeks to convince her not to leave him.