Title: Bedrooms and Hallways
Disclaimer: I don't own them and I'm glad I don't. Aaron Sorkin is a genius and I'm more than happy to let him have his characters. I'm just borrowing them for a few moments.
R ating: PG
Summary: In which Donna evades questions, Josh and Sam lie to the President, and people sleep in a bed.
Author's notes: This is a sequel to "The Situation" which can be found at http://www.slashcentral.com/blasphemous/fiction/situation.html. If you haven't read it, you should read that first.
Author's notes the sequel: A good many people sent lovely feedback for "The Situation". Please believe that it is much appreciated and I will get back to each and every one of you personally very soon. Real life problems detracted from my ability to respond for a while.
Dedication: To Zoe, who didn't unsubtly suggest I stop writing West Wing fic. Thanks!
Bedrooms and Hallways by Chelle
Josh glanced at his watch. 12:45.
"We should get up now."
"Are you going to let go?"
"Okay." He released Josh slowly, rolling over onto his back. When Josh
stood and started straightening out his clothes, he said, "I'm sorry."
"No, it's not. I'm sorry."
"Sam, did I say anything about you needing to be sorry for anything?"
"You were thinking it."
"I was thinking it."
"Are you a mind-reader now?"
"Then you don't know what I was thinking."
"Okay," Sam said as they left the office. "Cathy, is Donna the President
now?" he asked as they passed his assistant's desk.
"I don't think so."
"Right. I didn't think so, either."
"Okay. Did Donna say where this meeting was supposed to be?" Josh asked.
"I don't think so." They walked in silence for a few moments. Then, "I
really am sorry, Josh."
"Look. Donna," Sam said as Donna came around a corner.
"Josh, Senator Abrams called. I forgot to tell you about that earlier."
"What did he want?"
"I don't know, Josh. I don't ask everyone who calls to tell me what they
"My mother said that the last time she called, you harassed her for fifteen
"She said I harassed her?"
"Well, not exactly. She said you talked."
"Yes. We talked. We chatted. She asked me if I thought you were gay. I
said I didn't know. I did not harass her."
"She asked if you thought I was gay?"
"Well, not exactly. I may have offered unsolicited information."
"You told her you think I'm gay."
"Not in so many words."
"What did you say, exactly?"
"I may have mentioned that you seem to spend more time with Sam than you do
with any female people."
"What else have you told my mother?"
"I don't really remember. By the way, she called today. So did Sam's mom.
And mine, actually."
"What did you tell your mother?"
"Nothing. You have a meeting to go to."
"Right," Sam said. "Where is it?"
"Oh, good. This should be fun."
"Have fun, guys. If it makes you feel any better, you were really cute
curled up on the floor."
"Thank you so much, Donna," Josh answered. "That makes everything okay."
"I thought it would."
Donna laughed as she walked away. Sam looked nervously up the hallway, then
back at Josh.
"Is it too late to run?" he asked. "I'm sure I could get a different job
"We can't run. We're grown men. We're not supposed to be afraid of a
little mocking from our coworkers." Josh started walking again.
"A little? C.J. will be at this meeting," Sam said, hurrying to catch up.
"Maybe she'll take pity on us."
"The President of the United States, Josh. We're about to be made fun of in
front of the President of the United States."
"You act like this is new."
"It'll be all right. Hey, Charlie," Josh said as they reached the Oval
"I'm really sorry, Josh," Sam said as they entered.
"Yeah. You mentioned that. Good afternoon, Mr. President."
Josh woke the next morning to discover he had no blankets. When he had
fallen asleep, he had been covered with a down comforter. But when he woke,
the thin sheet was barely covering him. Reaching over, he grabbed a handful
of comforter and tugged.
"Sam, if you're going to hog the covers, you can sleep in your own bed."
"My bed's on the other side of town," Sam answered groggily.
"Then, give me my blanket."
"So am I. And it's my blanket."
Sighing, Sam relinquished the covers. It was quiet in the room for a few
minutes, then Sam turned over and glared at Josh. "Now I can't go back to
"This was your idea, remember. You said, 'Josh. What are you doing after
work?' And I said, 'Nothing.' And you said, 'Maybe we could get a drink or
something.' And then, after the drinks, you said, 'My apartment's all the
way across town.' And now we're here. So stop complaining about not being
able to sleep and go to sleep."
"Do you think that maybe technically we lied to the President yesterday?"
"We said it wouldn't be happening again."
"Well, we're not really in your office now. So, technically it's not
"I think they weren't really asking about my office."
"It's all right. I don't think they believed us anyway."
"So, this is okay?" Sam asked, moving closer and wrapping an arm around Josh
"Mmm," Josh replied, leaning in to press his cheek against Sam's shoulder.
"Good." He paused. "Could I kiss you, too?"
"Are you asking me permission?"
"No, I'm saying, do you think we would be lying to the President if we
started kissing? When we made our promise, did that include kissing?"
"I don't know."
"Because, they didn't say anything about kissing. And..."
"You just said 'kiss' four times in one minute," Josh said with a smirk.
"Worry about it later. Go to sleep, Sam."
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