Rating: NC-17
Archive: Sure, but let me know.
Summary: Josh and Donna, bad weather, a cancelled flight, a clown convention, and the last motel room in town.
Spoilers: Tiny TLB and SGTE, SGTJ references.
Disclaimers: Aaron Sorkin still owns them all.
Date: 5/10/01
Notes: Written for the State of the Union Group May Smut Challenge as a stand-alone fic. -- And yes, the beginning line is intentional.
Jeds Winner -- First Place, Outstanding Reinvention of a Fanfic Cliche.
It's a dark and stormy night as I pull the car into what I think is a parking spot and kill the engine.
"Okay, go see if there's room at the inn..." I start, unbuckling my seat belt in a hopeful gesture.
God, this whole day has been a living hell. The meeting went badly and now, due to this freak storm, what was supposed to be a quick day trip has turned in an unexpected, overnight trip.
"Me?"
"Yeah," I turn to look at Donna, who has now started pouting.
Perfect.
"Josh! It's practically monsooning out there."
"Monsooning?"
"Yeah," she answers, folding her arms across her chest and giving me a defiant stare.
"That's not a word."
"Monsooning, 'to monsoon'; which is what it's doing...you go check."
"Donna, you're my assistant, I need a little assistance here, go see if they have any vacancies."
"No." She's really pouting now.
"You know, I really don't need this now. We're stuck in this god-forsaken town, in a middle of a storm, this whole trip was a farce, the airport's closed due to the weather," I stop to roll my eyes. "Fine, I give up, I'll go check."
I'm soaked by the time I run to the office and fling the lobby doors open.
"Hi, I'd like two rooms," I say, approaching the desk clerk, while trying in vain not to drip too much water on the floor.
She looks at me as if she's trying not to laugh. "You're not here for the convention, are you?"
"What convention?" I start again before she can tell me. "No, it doesn't matter, I just, I need two rooms..."
Hmm, maybe if I show her one of my White House business cards. I start to pull one out.
"We're full, sir."
"Full?"
"We've been booked for weeks, due to the convention."
"Convention?"
"Yeah, the Circus Laughter Facilitators convention," she states plainly.
"Circus Laughter Facil..." It takes my brain a second to work through the words. "Clowns?"
God, is there any vocation that doesn't have a new PC title?
"Excuse me, sir, they prefer..."
"I don't care," I pause to rub my eye and run my hand through my hair. "Is there any other motel near by?"
"They're all booked..."
"Wait," another girl comes up behind the counter. "What about the Hideaway?"
The original desk clerk stares at her friend behind the desk, "Oh, I'm not sure.."
"The Hideaway? Fine, where is it?"
"Well, it's a couple of miles up the road on the right, they have a big neon sign, says The Hideaway, you can't miss it."
"And the clowns aren't there?" I can feel the smirk forming at the corner of my mouth.
"Umm..no, sir, I don't think any of the convention guests are staying there," she snickers back.
"What?"
"Nothing...The Hideaway, two miles on the right," she repeats, doing what appears to be trying very hard not to laugh.
"What? You're doing it again," I study her. "It's a motel, right?"
"Oh yes, of course..."
"You know what? I don't care," I start, turning away from the desk and muttering under my breath, "As long as it's dry, I don't care..."
On the way across the lobby I'm nearly run over by two grown men in full clown make-up, crazy hair, and big red, clown noses.
One of them actually steps on my foot with his big clown shoe.
They honk their little horns at me and scowl as they pass -- yeah, real nice behavior for clowns.
I can't believe clowns are entertainment -- and for children. I mean, I'm almost forty and clowns freak the hell out of me, I can't imagine any kid not screaming in terror if one of these things is coming at them -- honking their little horns and snapping their rainbow suspenders.
I mean, c'mon, that's just fuckin' freaky.
The trip back to the car soaks the rest of the way through my clothes.
"Well?"
"They're full," I reply, as I drip all over the driver's side of the car.
"Full? What are we...?"
"There's another motel up the road, the Hideaway, we'll go there." I back the car up and turn the windshield wipers on high, like it helps any.
"Oh, here's the best part -- do you know why there's no vacancy, Donna?"
"No, Josh, I stayed in the car, remember?"
"There's a clown convention," I say with a involuntary shudder -- I really do hate clowns.
"Circus Laughter Facilitators?" She asks, with an amazingly straight face.
"Go away from me." I reply, as I start back out onto the rain slicked road.
***
I get out and run into the front door of The Hideaway, leaving Josh in the car, despite his half-assed protests that he be the one to check for vacancies here too.
I know better than to let him do that, he'd never let me forget it when he comes down with pneumonia next week. Taking care of a sick Josh is so much worse than taking care of a healthy Josh.
I try to shake off some water discreetly, as I approach the middle-aged man behind the counter.
"Excuse me. Hi, do you have any vacancies?"
"Well, you're in luck, we had a cancellation due to the weather. Actually, we had two rooms about an hour ago, but another couple came in and they're in the Sea Man room now."
"Excuse me?" I ask, staring oddly at him. Did he say semen room?
"The Sea Man room," he pauses, "It's a maritime theme."
"Uh, okay," I reply, openning my bag and grab Josh's visa out -- I usually hold on to it when we travel so I can deal with the expenses.
"Wait. So you only have one room available?"
"Just one, that's all most folks need," he replies with a chuckle. "I think you'll like it, it's the..."
"Oh, okay, fine, as long as it's dry. Are there at least two beds?"
"Ma'am, um, no, but..."
"Fine, he can sleep on the floor," I interrupt again, as I hand the clerk Josh's card.
He takes the plastic from me and runs it through, handing me the receipt to sign.
"There's a gift shop over there," he motions to his right. "If you need any supplies, my wife can help you," he hands me a key ring. "You're in room 6. That's around back, third door on the right, there's a parking spot right outside."
"Great, thanks." Grabbing the key from him, I head back out to the car.
A room -- I have to share a room with Josh.
Okay, this is no big deal, we've actually done it before. Well, not intentionally, but during the campaign when we were practically living in hotels, Josh and I would be working late in his room and about half the time I'd fall asleep there. It pretty much became a regular occurrence, so much so that Leo joked once that we could save money by just sharing a room.
Somehow I doubt that Leo would suggest that anymore -- I guess we just won't report back to Leo about this little development.
"Well, there's good news and bad news," I introduce the current predicament, sitting back down in the car, trying not to get the interior too wet.
"Okay.." he stares at me intently, then his eyes drift down a little further.
What? I look down. Damn it. My white shirt is soaked, my bra is even wet, I might as well be naked above the waist.
"Umm..we have a room," I say this as I cross my arms over my chest.
"Room?"
Josh shakes his head and bring his eyes back up to my face. His eyes get a little wider before I answer.
"Yeah, there was only one room left," I pause, letting him get back to reality and realize one room is better than sleeping in a soggy Ford Taurus. "But at least it's a room, there's even a gift shop, maybe they have a couple of toothbrushes?"
"Okay, fine, where do I go?" Sigh.
"Around back, we're in number six."
We drive around and park the car.
"Why don't you go inside, I'll run back and see if I can get some overnight items from the motel store."
He disappears off in the direction of the main building before I can even respond.
***
Oh my god.
I mean, oh my god.
I take the receipt out of my pocket and examine it.
Right up at the top it says, "The Hideaway, Adult Theme Motel."
Oh my god.
I am *so* glad the Sea Man room was taken.
I shut the door behind me and step in -- to a jungle.
Well, it's actually more like a porno version of the nature channel.
I'm guessing this is the 'jungle theme room', because of the large, circular leopard print bed -- oh yeah, and there's a large mirror on the ceiling above the bed, there are mirrors everywhere.
I don't think they have mirrors like that in the wild.
I walk further into the room and set my purse down. There's a huge whirlpool tub in the middle of the room, the side has kind of a thatched, grassy motif. The room also has a tiger print velvety loveseat, a mini-fridge, and zebra patterned wall paper -- well, where you can see wall.
I turn the light on by the bed and the room is bathed in a red glow.
I turn it back off quickly.
The bathroom seems pretty normal but again, there seems to be an awful lot of mirrors -- I look up, yep, there too.
"Donna!"
Oh god.
"Josh..." I walk back into the main room, to see him standing by the door with his mouth open.
"Donna...what...?"
"Josh, I don't know -- this was your idea."
He stares at me.
"Donna! I mean..." he waves his arms around and stares at the bed. "You checked in, did he not mention, oh by the way, it's a sex motel?"
"No, Joshua, he didn't and I really didn't think to ask."
He looks over at the big, circular leopard print bed, "Donna!"
"I know, Josh, it's okay, it's one night, this is all there is, we'll get back to DC tomorrow first thing."
He mumbles something, as his eyes search the room.
I try to change the subject. "Did you get toothpaste and stuff?"
"Noooo," he starts, "Um, they didn't have any..."
"But the guy told me they had supplies -- oh."
"Yeah," he agrees. "Ah, really nothing to brush your teeth with." He pauses, then, "A strange, middle-aged woman just tried to sell me condoms and a, a, something else," he says quickly, turning a light shade of pink, as he looks down at the floor, before adding, "I need to go poke my eyes out now."
"Okay," I snicker, "But we're going to spend some time talking about the 'something else' at a later date."
"Donna!"
"Kidding, Josh, just trying to lighten the mood."
"Well, don't do that."
We both just stare at around the room and then at each other.
"Okay, it's only one night," he repeats my previous sentiment, not sounding entirely at ease.
"Yeah -- I have mints."
"What?"
"You know, since we can't brush our teeth."
"Okay," he sighs as he puts his backpack down on the bed.
"I'm gonna go..." I motion to the bathroom, I'm still sopping wet and I really should get out of these clothes, so should he.
I didn't mean it like that.
***
Donna's been in the bathroom for a few minutes.
Okay, so now that I've had a few minutes to adjust to the severe tacky and skanky glory that is our lodging for the night, it's kind of funny. I've managed to erase my memory of what I am referring to as the 'old lady-dildo incident' and I've moved on from shocked to pretty amused.
I kick my shoes off and look around the room -- there really are a lot of mirrors.
I should try to dry off my clothes a bit. I strip down to my slightly wet undershirt and boxers, hanging my shirt and pants over the tiger-striped, velvet love seat to dry.
Nice.
Hmm... if I'm stripping down to my underwear, I wonder if Donna is going to come out of the bathroom in her underwear? I've gotta say, now that I've seen her panties, I'm a little curious as to what she actually looks like in them.
Speaking of my assistant, I'm also thinking that Donnatella Moss would look pretty nice stretched out against the animal print of the loveseat, her pale skin flushed from arousal.
I find myself staring at the loveseat like a love-sick puppy.
Whoa.
Erase memory of that visual too -- at least tuck it away for a later appearance.
I'm actually glad this is happening here and nowhere near DC, hopefully no one will ever find out about this. All I need is CJ being asked why Donna and I were at The Hideaway, doing it in the jungle room.
Okay, wait, we're not going to do it.
It would just look like that to reporters.
Yeah.
Hmmm...a mini-fridge.
By the time she gets out of the bathroom wearing a big white robe, I have a little meal spread out on the floor. The fridge was actually pretty well equipped -- there's champagne, brie, and little crackers.
Because really, what this situation definitely needs is some alcohol -- and cheese and crackers.
"Hungry?" I grin at her as she walks over to my little picnic set-up.
"Well, you're certainly looking right at home," she says as she sits down next to me.
"Yeah, well, I am an animal," I joke.
She ponders this for a second.
"You're kind of like a koala bear."
"A koala bear?"
"Yeah, you know, cute and cuddly, plus they have all that crazy hair by their ears."
"No, I'm like a lion."
"You really aren't Josh."
"A fierce, masterful lion."
"A fuzzy, adorable, little koala bear."
Little?
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah.." She smiles, starting to reach for a cracker.
I have the advantage of surprise when I lunge at her and gently push her down on the floor, tickling her through the robe.
"Say I'm a lion, Donna."
"Jooshhh!"
One of the nice things about working with someone for over three years is that you get to know them pretty well. You learn how to get your point across and what the best strategy for handling them is. I've only had to use this tactic once or twice before but it's worked both times. Of course, this approach really only works with Donna, I've never actually tried it with, say, Toby or Leo.
Okay, I need to erase that visual from my brain too.
"Donna...what kind of animal am I?" I move a bit so I'm resting some weight on her thighs, keeping her from kicking at me. Because she kicks when she's being tickled, I learned that the hard way.
"Josh, stop, aghhh..." she's laughing and screaming at the same time as we wrestle around.
Of course, the other times I've done this Donna wasn't wearing a robe.
Note to self: probably shouldn't tickle assistant when she could be naked under a loosely tied, white robe, in a kinky motel room.
It only takes a few seconds of our wrestling around until her robe predictably unties in the front.
I make a noble effort to try and not cause it to fly open all the way but really, it's kind of a lost cause. The material separates as she squirms around under me.
"Joshua!" she gasps through her squeals.
I can't help but stare at all of the newly-exposed, milky white flesh.
I also guess I'll have to wait a little longer to see what Donna looks like in her underwear because she doesn't have any on right now.
"Umm, you probably want to admit I'm a lion pretty soon here, Donna, you appear to be getting kind of unclothed," I say, as I wiggle my fingers down the side of her body, now unobstructed by any barrier, while trying really hard not to look at the obvious attractions.
I'm also trying to gauge her reaction to this -- she doesn't seem super upset. If she did I would have let her up immediately, but she's still giggling and trying to grab at my side. I mean, if she's okay enough to keep trying to pinch at me, she's okay enough to be all naked in front of me.
At least that's my theory.
Donna's squirming and twisting causes my hand to brush against her breast -- I was actually trying for the skin under her arm -- and my fingers graze the hard peak of her nipple and she moans.
Uh-oh.
We both kind of freeze for a second -- a situation she uses to her advantage.
"Joshua, ahhh," she manages to get her one hand free and grabs at the skin around my hip, as she does so, her hand sweeps against the side of my erection, making me jump off her with a yelp.
"Okay, truce, truce, you're a lion," she pants, struggling to close her robe quickly, as she laughs through her blush.
"Okay, good, just so we're clear on that," I reply, turning my body around a bit and pulling a throw pillow off the couch and tossing it casually in my lap.
I'm trying to not think about just seeing Donna's breasts and thighs and the area between her thighs, where her skin was a little darker and pinker.
Because thoughts like that are definitely not helping the crisis situation I've got going on in my lap.
Right now I need to focus all of my energies on not doing any stupid-ass things in a motel room with my assistant -- a mission which relies completely on my ability to stop replaying the visual of Donna's moist, pink, girly parts over and over in my mind.
I pick up my glass -- yep, there is absolutely no doubt that all this situation needs now is some alcohol.
I was being sarcastic there.
"Here's to storms, clowns, and kinky motel rooms," I say, clinking my glass with hers as she grins back at me and then looks down at the pillow.
***