COLOURS (4.7.09)
Disclaimer: The West Wing and its characters –not mine.
Author's note: I came up with this idea while I was listening to 'Is this love' by Whitesnake at four in the morning. This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction based on The West Wing series, so share your thoughts about this drabble with me. I will appreciate it. This is hasn't been beta'd. Now, I hope you enjoy.
Josh POV.
Set some time during the Santos Administration.
Summary: Donna is in red... and Josh sees green.
President Santos and I were caught up in the Situation Room before the party, so we are late... very late. We have to meet first with the staff before the President and the First Lady are announced, and I am anticipating the moment I saw Donna all dressed up. She looks always so beautiful... but there is something else in these kind of events...
Anyway.
We are close to the room where everybody is waiting for us, and when I say everybody I mean the First Lady and Donna, Sam and Ainsley, Lou, Bram, Otto, Ronna, Eddie and Lester.
And then, when we finally entered the room, my eyes look for Donna... And I certainly find her.
I stop walking. I think I am paralyzed.
Whoa.
She looks...
Wait a minute.
Is that?
Oh, no...
“Oh, no... No, no, no, no...”
I think I said that out loud.
“What?” asks the President.
I don't pay him attention at all. All of me is focused on Donna.
“Donna, you cannot wear that dress...”
Uh-oh.
Bells of alarm are ringing in my head... Is that normal?
“Excuse me?”
She looks pissed.
I don't care.
“That dress,” I go on. “That's my red dress.”
Everybody is looking at me.
Oh...
Yes, well, I may have stated that that dress is mine.
Well, it is!
Not that it would ever fit.
Who cares, I just started seeing green.
“Joshua...”
We start with the full names.
“That is my dress... and you shouldn't be wearing this where everybody, every male, will be ogling at you, and imagining you naked with in their perverted minds...”
I am desperately making a point here!
I should take a breath...
“Josh...” Donna tries to interrupt me.
“They will be salivating all over the place...”
She puts her hands on her hips...
“Josh...”
Well rounded hips in red.
In the red dress she wear that night almost eight years ago. The one I told her she should keep. That night, the dress became mine.
Yes, my logic is astounding.
“Don't you have a bag of potatoes to put on?”
I sigh.
“You done?” Donna asks. She got a little smile on her pouty lips.
“Yeah...”
Not remotely.
Wait, she's coming closer.
She is tying my bow tie. She's so close. I can smell her fragrance. She smells like summer, and roses, of lazy afternoons and passionate nights...
Quite the poet.
Wait, her lips are moving...
“Why don't you stop thinking about men ogling at me and my red dress...”
What! No!
I know men. They look at beautiful women like they are...
Her hands rest on my shoulders, and she has got a smoldering look that goes through me like honey.
“...and start thinking how you are going to take it off me later tonight... mmm?”
My knees are melting.
I love this woman...
I have lots of ideas as to how...
Ogling men forgotten.
“OK, that works...”
I don't even know what I am saying, because Donna is putting her lips on mine, nipping at my bottom lip...
She has her hands on my neck, holding me where she wants me, and I put mine on her hips, taking her closer to my body...
And I forget my jealousy, and the people in the room.
Her tongue slips in my mouth...
She tastes like chocolate, and wine, and strawberries... Those seem good ideas for later tonight.
I can tell you. This woman excels at kisses...
*Cough, cough*
OK... I forgot about the President and my staff.
I am a professional.
Donna and I reluctantly come apart.
Oh, the saucy smile... That is definitely a promise.
“Sorry... I got distracted,” I say to the President, who is giving me a broad smile.
“We noticed,” he states.
The man is laughing at me!
So is everybody else.
That is what my woman does to me. She makes me forget everything... but her.
I hold her hand, and I pull her to me while we are approaching the doors that lead to the party.
And I whisper to her:
“You look amazing.”
Yes, people.
Definitely a promise.
