TWW Fic: Flowers from Brokaw

Fandom: The West Wing
Title: Flowers from Brokaw
Rated: PG-13
Characters: Josh, Donna, friendship
Spoilers: current with this season as it's aired until now
Notes: I wrote this because it's an issue of Josh's that the show
seems to have conveniently forgotten, and I'm hoping it'll come out
eventually, and this is a way that it could. Also, I'm hopelessly in
love with Josh/Donna, whether it be platonic love or that other kind
that happens to involve sex. This one falls on the platonic level.



[ flowers from brokaw ]
by kHo

Donna came to an abrupt stop as she saw Josh leaning against her desk.
Shifting her crutches she frowned to herself and looked at him. "Josh,
what are you doing?"

Josh gestured behind him. "You got more flowers."

Donna's eyes flicked past him and she felt a clinching in her gut. "I did."

He nodded. "Seen 'em yet?"

She smiled slightly. "I'm seeing them now."

He nodded again, pushing off of her desk and walking up to her. "My office."

She turned and watched him stride into his office, holding the door
open for her and waiting impatiently. "Okay," she muttered to herself,
picking up a pad and tucking it under her arm as she hobbled to meet
him. "Josh, what--"

"Hang on," he said, shutting the door behind him. "Sit."

She sighed, sitting down and resting her crutches against his desk.
"Okay. I'm sitting."

He leaned against his desk, crossing his arms and looking down at her.
"Who are the flowers from?"

She rolled her eyes. "I don't know, Josh."

He nodded, his lips twisting in annoyance. "Uhuh. Wager a guess."

She shrugged. "I don't know, Josh."

"Tom Brokaw," he said, raising an eyebrow. "You're getting flowers
from Tom Brokaw."

She closed her eyes, hanging her head. "You read the card."

"I read the card," he said, leaning forward and waiting for her to
look at him again. "I read the card, and I read the words scrawled on
there that said 'here's to hoping the third time's the charm.' And I
thought to myself 'Gee. Donna's been contacted by Tom Brokaw at least
twice before now, and I've never known.' How did I not know that,
Donna?"

She sighed. "Josh."

"And then I thought to myself, ya know, Donna's gotten an awful lot of
flowers from an awful lot of men I don't know over the past few weeks.
And unless you've all of a sudden become promiscuous to a seriously
dangerous degree--"

"Hey!"

He continued, walking around his desk and picking up a pad. "Like Dan
Sedar, and Carl Lembeck, and John Stossel, and hey... Hey, look at that
last one. That last one didn't register before, but ya know what? That
dude's a reporter isn't he? Does a little known show called 20/20 I
think. With this woman, oh what's her name? Oh that's right! Barbara
Walters!"

Her eyes flew open and she looked accusingly at him. "You've been
reading my cards AND you've been writing down their names?!"

"Of course I've been reading your cards, Donna, I'm still me! And I
didn't write them down."

She glared at him, pointing to the pad in his hand. "Then what's that
list about then, huh Josh?"

He frowned. "From memory."

She squinted her eyes. "Josh--"

"I was looking for a pencil."

Her glare became harder. "Josh!"

He threw his hands out. "Well if you don't want people to find your
cards you shouldn't keep them all in the top drawer of your desk!"

She shook her head, standing up. "You're an unbelievable jackass,
Josh. You really are."

He sighed, setting the pad down on the desk. "Why haven't you told me
they're courting you, Donna?"

She reached over and grabbed her crutches, glaring at him. "I'm
putting a lock on my desk, Josh. I'm putting a lock on it, because you
are an insane, little, infantile man."

"Donna!"

"They're not courting me."

He shook his head. "Why haven't you told me?"

"Because, Josh, it's not your business! None of it is!"

He was silent for a moment. He lifted a hand to run though his hair
before sighing and looking down at the floor. "Yeah. I've noticed."

She sighed, turning half way towards the door. "It's not that I was
keeping it from you, Josh. It's that I'm not doing it, I'm not going
to go on their shows. There was no reason to tell you."

He laughed slightly. "Yeah."

She sighed, turning back to him. "Josh."

"You don't talk to me like you used to," he said quietly. "You don't
talk to anyone like you used to, but most of all, you don't talk to me
like you used to."

She shook her head. "That's not true."

He laughed again, still staring at the scattered papers on his desk as
he lowered himself to his chair. "Yeah it is. Six months ago, Donna,
you'd have told me this. You'd have teased me, or mocked me about
being jealous that news shows wanted you on their shows and not me, or
bitched about how annoying it was that all you had to do to get men to
send you flowers was to almost get..." He trailed off, squeezing his
eyes shut and shaking his head. "You'd have told me."

She stepped forward slowly, watching him. "Josh, I'm not doing them.
There was no reason to tell you--"

"You never needed a reason, Donna," he yelled, finally looking up at
her, his eyes wide and almost wild. "You always just... did. You always
just... talked."

She rolled her eyes. "And you always got annoyed."

He smiled slightly. "Yeah. But not really."

She shook her head and turned to leave again. "I have work to do."

"Donna," he said softly, clearing his throat as she turned to look at
him. "Are you talking to anyone?"

Her eyes widened a fraction. "About..."

"Yeah."

She looked away. "Yeah."

He looked up at her and caught her eyes. "You are?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Who?"

She took a deep breath. "Don't worry about it."

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it."

She shrugged. "I talk to people, Josh!"

"Just... not me."

She nodded. "Yeah."

He nodded. "Okay."

"Why should I talk to you, Josh? You have all of this other stuff you
need to be--"

He laughed. "That doesn't matter."

She nodded, her voice rising slightly. "Yes it does, Josh! You have
enough to worry about without me piling my stuff on top of the other
stuff."

"It's not important," he said, shaking his head.

"Yes, it--"

"None of that's important, Donna," he said, his voice strained. "You are!"

She blinked, stepping back at the raising of his voice. "Josh."

"I flew to Germany, Donna! I flew to GERMANY for you! I dropped
everything, everyone... all of it! I DROPPED IT!" His arms flew out as
he gesticulated frantically. "I had all of that stuff on my plate, and
yeah, it's all important. Important to my position in the government,
and important to America, and important to the President, but you know
what?! YOU are what is important to ME!"

She blinked past a tear and took a shaky breath. "What do you want me
to say Josh? I told you thank you..."

He laughed. "I don't want your thanks, Donna," he said softly. "I want
you to be okay. I want you to talk to me. I want... I just want you
back."

She rested her crutches against his desk and sat down again slowly.
"What do you want me to tell you?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, Donna. Tell me that you're getting carpal
tunnel syndrome again. Tell me that you banged your shin on the coffee
table again. Tell me the knots in your hair won't come out, I don't
care, Donna, just... talk to me."

She nodded, another tear falling down her cheek. "Do you want me to
tell you I have nightmares? That I wake up in the middle of the night,
and I feel like the truck is flipping all over again? That I reach up
to feel my face to see if I'm bleeding again?"

He sits back, his heart constricting. "Donna..."

"That I cry almost every night, Josh," she said, raising an eyebrow at
him. Despite the tears coursing down her face she looked defiant.
"That I can't talk to my Mom sometimes because she starts crying and
telling me how grateful she is that I'm alive, and it reminds me of
how close I came to not being alive anymore, and I get a panic
attack?" She sniffs, smiling and wiping her tears away. "No, Josh.
No."

He let out his breath and leaned forward. "Donna, do you really--"

She nodded. "Yeah. But I don't tell you about it, and I'm not going to start."

He shook his head. "Why," he asked, his voice full of wonder.

She laughed. "Because it's your fault, isn't it?"

His head reared back, his eyes widening. "What?"

She smiled and leaned forward. "You sent me there. It was because of
you I was there."

He felt his stomach take a tumble and he wasn't sure how he didn't
throw up right then and there. "Donna."

"That's what been repeating over and over in your mind since you
heard, isn't it," she asked, raising an eyebrow. "You've been having
it on loop since it happened."

He shook his head. "I don't--"

"You have this habit, Josh, of accepting responsibility for things you
have no control over," she said quietly. "You didn't do this Josh. And
I refuse to compound whatever guilt you already have over it, because
at least I can do that."

He lets out another breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. "I
don't have any guilt--"

She laughed. "Yes you do, Josh. I know you, don't forget that. I know
you probably better than anyone in this town. It's written all over
your face whenever you catch sight of my crutches."

"But if you need someone to talk to..."

She shakes her head. "I have people to talk to, Josh. I have people
that don't have your guilty conscience, and that I can cry all I want
to in front of, and right now that's what I need."

He scoots his chair closer to his desk and closer to her. "You can cry
in front of me, Donna."

She laughs. "No. I really can't, Josh."

He nods. "Yes you can."

"I can't cause that look in your eyes Josh," she said quietly. "I
don't want to be another one of the things that you feel responsible
for breaking."

"You're not," he says, his eyes following her as she stood again.
"Donna, I don't--"

"Yes you do, and it's stupid, Josh," she said, smiling softly down at
him. "It's not your fault, and I can tell you that all I want to, but
you're still going to think it. And if I break down in front of you,
if I crumble, it only adds onto all of the stuff you already think is
your fault."

"That's not fair, Donna," he said softly.

"I can't talk to you about it yet, Josh," she said, shrugging and
walking towards the door. "But it doesn't mean anything more than what
it is. I can still talk to you about the other stuff. The banging my
shin, and the knotty hair, and the carpal tunnels. But I can't talk to
you about this, not yet. Not till I'm better."

Josh watched as she reached the door, his mouth hanging open. "I... I
just want you back, Donna."

"I am back, Josh." She smiled at him. "I'm just not done unpacking."

Josh sighed, tapping on his desk agitatedly with his fingernails.
"Well... I'll be here when you are."

She nodded. "I know." She was just about to shut the door when she
leaned back in and fixed him with a stare. "Josh?"

He looked at her, raising his eyebrows. "Yeah?"

"You coming to Germany," she said, her voice shaking just slightly
below the surface. "Seriously. The most touching thing anyone has ever
done for me."

He smiled slightly. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

She cocked her head to the side. "Without stopping for red lights?"

He laughed. "Yeah."

She smiled. "Thanks."