Title: Burnt Toast Author: cantbesilent Category: Future-ish Rating: PG Disclaimer: I own so very little in my life Notes: Okay, so this one is a moldy oldy that has been collecting dust on my hard drive for, oh, I don't know, one month? Two months? Who knows really. And some parts of it I like, so why not give it a post? Its 2am, my stomach kinda hurts from the cheesecake I didn't eat, what else do I have to do? I need to lay off the fluffy domestic shmaltz fests that are my fic library and come up with some dramatic angst. Comment if you love me, or even if you just kinda like me (or even if you hate me, thats totally cool too). Donna burnt her toast. She shuffles around the papers lying on the table, sorting through them and placing them in some semblance of order. She opens a manila envelope and pushes them inside, jamming the folder into a bag. The coffee machine makes assorted noises, and she pulls various contents out of the fridge and opens up a cabinet door. She grimaces when she realizes there's only one clean coffee mug. She unlocks the dishwasher and pulls out the still warm glasses and places them on the shelf. She relocks the dishwasher to prevent one of them from filling it with dirty dishes later. She tells herself she should empty it now. But she doesn't have time. She burnt her toast. It pops out of the toaster with a ding and she rolls her eyes at herself upon seeing its chard exterior. "You burnt your toast." She swings around to find Josh standing in the doorway. "Maybe I was making it for you." She counters. He walks over and pulls out a chair with a scrape. "You weren't." She shakes her head and tosses the charcoal toast into the sink. "I made you coffee though, that's why I burnt the toast." "That's not why you burnt the toast." "No?" She looks over at him while pouring the coffee. "Its cause you can't get the time right." "I get it right fine." "You don't, actually, that's why your toast resembles a chunk of asphalt." "You shouldn't have to put it in there more than once." She places the coffee down in front of him. He leans over it, taking in the smell for a moment. "It's a science." "Its annoying, I'm buying a new one." "Okay." He takes a sip of the coffee and closes his eyes for a moment. She moves about the room more, shoving the toast down the garbage disposal, turning off the coffee maker, double checking the papers she needs to bring into the office. He blows on the hot coffee, taking small, calculated sips. He watches her over the rim of the coffee mug. "I've never seen Apollo 11." She turns slightly to look at him, giving him a curious look. "Isn't it 13?" "Not the movie." "Like the actual Apollo 11?" "Yeah," he takes another small gulp of the coffee. "Its been blocks from me for years and I've never seen it." "You've had other things on your mind." She scans the paper in her hand. "The Declaration of Independence, too." She looks at him over her paper, her head slightly down. "Josh?" "Its just down the street, you know." "I know." She puts the papers away and sits down across from him. She stares at him for a moment. His eyes scan the Post in front of him. She knows he's not really reading it. She can tell. They sit quietly for a moment, the crinkling of the newspaper the only sound in the room. She glances at her watch quickly. "He's not listening to me." He says, not looking at her. She sighs and leans forward, placing her hands on the table. "The President?" He nods. She runs her hands across the table. "Josh," he doesn't look at her. "Josh." She says again, her voice slightly more stern. He turns so they make eye contact. "For how long?" He shrugs slightly. "Couple weeks." She sighs ever so slightly. "It hasn't been a big deal-" "Its obviously bothering you." She moves closer to him. "Not till recently." He reasons. "But its bothering you now." She says. A moment passes. "Do you want to talk about it?" He looks at her. She's never pushed him to talk, not if he wasn't ready. He doesn't say anything at first. She moves slightly closer. "I just thought it would be different." She nods. She knows what he's talking about. "Like before." She adds, part of her voice questioning. He runs his fingers across the smooth ceramic of the coffee mug. "He's always had problems listening to you," she smiles so slightly its barely noticeable. "Back in the campaign, you had to spar with him over almost everything." "Yeah, but that was then." She nods, understanding. "I'm in that office every day, I'm in the room, I sit in that chair, Leo's chair, and its just different." "You're not Leo." "I know." "I know you know." She tells him. She leans forward, placing her hands over his. "But he's not Bartlet." He looks at her. "You may be Leo to Santos' Bartlet, but there's no way that relationship would be the same." "And I knew that going in, I just thought maybe we could get a fraction of that, just something." "But he's not listening to you?" She asks. He doesn't say anything, just looks at her. "Most Chiefs of Staff don't spend more than a few years in the job, Josh." She tells him. "They get book deals." "They get burnt out." "Charcoal. Like your toast." She smiles and hits his wrist playfully. "Shut up about my toast. That thing sucks." "You left it in too long." He tells her. "Yes, just a little too long and it became charred." He gave her a curious look. " So Chief's of Staff are like our toaster?" She chuckled. "No, they're like my toast." He laughed slightly and finished off his coffee. "Point being, its not a job that many people spend more than a couple years at." "Leo did 6 years." He tells her. "Yeah, and he had a heart attack." She says quietly, a twinge of sadness and regret in her voice. "Leo was rare, Josh. For a lot of reasons. One of them being Bartlet. Almost seven years as Chief of Staff, that's insane." "He couldn't have left him." He scoots closer towards her, his chair making an uncomfortable sound against the linoleum floor. "No, he couldn't have." She runs her hand across his and up his arm. "Maybe its better this way, maybe you'll be able to distance yourself when and if you have to." He squeezes her hand. "Like when you want me to quit?" He teases. "I'd never want you to quit," she tells him. "I know." She's close to him now, their legs and feet touching. She runs her hands across his shoulders and around his neck. "Please don't measure you're successes against Leo." She massages his shoulder lightly. "I miss him," his voice is meek and husky, and she's taken aback slightly at the emotion layered in his tone. "I know you do," she touches his face. "Sometimes I wish he'd just walk in the door and tell me everything I'm screwing up. Give me a hard time and put me in my place." She grinned. "That's what I'm here for." "And you do a fine job," He smiles back. "I like to think I'm as good as Leo in that department." "I think Leo was taking notes from you." She smirked. "High praise." He sighs and they're silent. Her expression turns serious. "You'll come out of this Josh. Whatever is going on, it'll pass. I can't tell you what to say or how to say it, but you'll know what to do." "What if I don't?" "You will," she assures him, her voice steady and sincere. "You've done pretty good so far." She smiles sweetly at him. "Pretty good?" He teases. "Come on," she laughs, leaning in to kiss him quickly. "You know you're my favorite Chief of Staff." "Ever?" He asks, raising his eyebrows. She feigns concentration. "I was torn a little bit thinking about the Eisenhower White House, but I'm still gonna give that title to you." "But just cause of the sex, right?" "Right." He kisses her again and she smiles against his lips. "And Apollo 11?" She gives him a confused look. "Isn't that a bit of a non sequitur?" "I still haven't seen it." He tells her. "Ah, well, I don't think it's going anywhere." He shrugs his shoulders. "You never know, NASA's had some pretty big budget cuts." "And who's fault is that?" "Congress." "Of course." His hands run lightly across her face, like feathers across her cheekbones. He kisses her lightly and then she nuzzles into his neck. She sighs into him and she can feel his arms relax around her. "Just keep doing what you're doing." She tells him, her breath hot against his neck. He breathes deeply into her soft hair. "It'll get better every day." She feels him nod into her hair and she smiles, patting her hands lightly against his back. "We sit here any longer we're gonna be late." He states. "No," she pulls back. "You're going to be late. I'm ready to walk out the door." "You gonna leave here without me?" "You bet." She stands up, her hands still on his shoulders. "I'm not gonna be tardy with you." "Tardy? That's a word that only exists in high school." She shrugs her shoulders and walks away from him, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge. "You think you'll be tardy tonight?" "Why? Are you making something? Should I make sure the take out menus are up to date?" She makes a face and swats him, throwing her purse over her shoulder. "You're such a funny guy. Especially since the last time I made something you went back for thirds." He smirks. "I'll try not to be too tardy." "Good." "You got something planned?" "Yeah, I was thinking of burning something in the toaster for you." I didn't reread it before I posted it, so please point out glaring mistakes. :)