Author's Note: I'm posting my other works to FF that never quite made it here. This was posted at B4A and on my website, way back when it was written. That was... May '06.

It's a song fic – I used to do them frequently. This song happens to be Nirvana by Dave's True Story. Fantastic band, great song...if you've never heard of them you should definitely check them out – especially if you like jazz.

Who is this clown?

I seem to recognize the face.

You brought her round,

And carried me away without a trace.

I am not what people always imagined me to be. At least, I wasn't always what people thought I was. I was one person in the White House. I was one person – Donna Moss, Assistant Extraordinaire. But I was another person once I left. Sometimes I left early, sometimes I left late, but I always left and I was always another person.

I tried very hard for a very long time to keep that hidden. I had a lot of fun being the "real" me, but I wasn't proud of it. I drake a lot, I smoked a lot, I hung out in a lot of dive bars listening to dive bands, going home with dive band members. Or taking them home with me. Those were escapades I never told Josh about.

I was that person before I joined the campaign. I managed to be that person on the campaign too. It's easy to sneak off to dive bars for an hour here and an hour there, especially when you can hold your liquor.

It was a lot easier to be that person when I moved to DC. I could be exactly what Josh needed during the day and then I could be exactly what I needed at night. It was a beautiful, beautiful balance.

I found this particularly great little dive bar, with really great little dive bar music, Jazz that was cool, new and contemporary but still with that feel of the old stuff. They served drinks without fruit in them, drinks without soda in them and there wasn't a blender in the place. I'm not even entirely sure they had water.

Then one night, Sam walked in to my little dive bar. He spotted me almost immediately. He came over to my table where I was sitting alone. We talked and drank. He stared deliciously at my breasts and then he took me home with him. Sam knew the real me, but he never mentioned it to anyone. Because I knew the real him. I knew the Sam that wasn't a gentleman. I knew the Sam that like to fuck a girl up against his apartment door in the hallway of his building and then not take her inside. And he knew I was the kind of girl who didn't mind. That went on for quite a while. He and I met in that little dive bar, listened to little dive music, drinking stiff little dive drinks on and off for a couple of years. Sometimes we'd take someone home with us, sometimes we wouldn't.

Then Sam moved away and a few weeks later Josh happened into my little dive bar. We talked and I drank, but he didn't. I smoked, but he didn't. He didn't even look at my breasts and he didn't take me home with him. But he did meet me at my little dive bar once a week for a very long time. He never said a word about it at the office. And I sent Sam flowers to thank him.

Then one week he didn't meet me at the little dive bar. But when I ordered my drink the bar tender handed me a slip of paper that read, "Come over", in Josh's very distinctive scrawl. So I drank a couple drinks, harnessed all the liquid courage I could and I went over. There was a candle lit dinner and a conversation that never mentioned the little dive bar, the little dive drinks, the smoking, or even how Sam knew I went there.

Pretty soon I stopped going to the little dive bar.

And it pulls me in.

And it pulls me in.

It pulls me in,

I can't abide this stranger in my skin.

Or is it just Nirvana setting in?

I didn't forget her though. And I could get rid of her. Josh offered me what he thought was a much more attractive solution. He offered me a social life that didn't include little dive bars, little dive music, little dive band members and one night stands. He offered me a social life that didn't include quick fucks in the hallway or threesomes with exotic black-haired women. He offered me a social life befitting someone of higher standards, someone with more class. He offered me a social life befitting Donna Moss – Assistant Extraordinaire. And he never said a word about the drinking and the smoking and the one night stands – though I'm not sure how much Sam ever told him or how much he really knew. He kept trying to turn me into the woman he saw every day at the office.

I miss the pain.

I miss the bar stool and the smoke.

I always liked the rain.

And who are you to fix what isn't broke?

But I missed the life. I missed the angry loneliness of sitting on that barstool. I miss the terror in my stomach when I realized that I'd just had sex with another stranger. Or another woman. I miss the feeling of walking out of some anonymous apartment and having no idea where I am. And I do miss the little dive bar and the little dive music.

But I didn't miss it all enough.

And it pulls me in.

And it pulls me in.

It pulls me in,

I'm half beside this stranger in my skin.

Or is it just Nirvana setting in?

I started getting used to life Josh wanted me to lead. I got used to bars with umbrella drinks and sour mix and club soda. I got used to bars that played music that people knew. I got used to going out and wanting to be seen. I got used to not smoking when I drank. I got used to not trying to pick up the guitar player. I got used to not having sex. I got used to being home at a decent hour, never feeling hung-over and watching prime time television (when I was out of the office on time).

Until you I could make do with any sort of guy.

I'd grin and pour the whisky while they lied.

My heart was smooth and hard as glass,

Then you walked in with your sweet class.

I could not forgive you if I tried.

I had been able to take the rejection of the guitar player on the rare occasion when he turned me down. Moreover I'd learned to smile and flirt while they lied to me – they're wife or their girlfriend had just left, or just died. I learned how to not be hurt when they came and I didn't and they went to sleep anyway. I learned how to worry about getting mine first. I learned how to not make the cab ride home a walk of shame.

But when Josh took me out of that environment I started to forget those things. I got hurt easier. Something good came of it though. I learned to fall in love.

But what's done is done,

As I watch you rearrange the place.

I've had my fun.

And now accept my fate with quiet grace.

Somehow Josh taught me to be the woman I pretended to be at the office. Somehow he even made me believe it was a good idea. He made me enjoy it. We learned to enjoy each other. And he never, ever said a word about my little dive bar days, my little dive bar music, and my little dive bar one night stands. But, he did mention the smoking.

And it pulls me in.

And it pulls me in.

It pulls me in,

I can't deny this stranger in my skin.

Or is just Nirvana?

Could it be Nirvana?

I guess it's just Nirvana has set in.