Title: Glimpses of Everything and Nothing - Part 1/7
Author: Published as Finn AUS
Rating: PG-13 (swearing) - turns a little saucy in future parts so be warned!
Spoiler Info: Vaguely placed somewhere in Season Seven
Disclaimer: WB, NBC, Aaron Sorkin are the masterminds, John Wells is the minor-mind who had the good fortune to co-produce. I have no money, and even less with the US conversion rate so really not worth it.
Archiving permission: Awesome, please let me know so I can go look!
Summary: After a Republican makes suggestions about Donna and Josh's relationship in an attempt to derail the campaign, it forces them both to face the real truth.
Author Note 1: This story started as a response to the Take Out Menu Challenge set by Clannadlvrs late last year. I had to use the phrase 'did your RNC membership card come with a one way ticket to Hades?' and someone runs a red light.
A/N 2: The biggest, most massive, shout-out to Caz my beta! For her awesome feedback and direction, her ability to Americanise vocab and her love of Josh/Donna saucy-ness. 'Things can only get beta!'
Feedback: Love it, crave it, need it, beg it!
A taxi would have been far too slow for him; would have allowed the voice of reason to creep in and at this very moment Josh wanted no part of it. The small piece of his brain that was still capable of rational thought realised that he was actually glad to be in DC right at this moment. Glad, because it meant ready access to his car; because it meant he could indulge his fury by over-revving the engine and skidding round corners whilst driving wildly over the speed-limit. His fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly as he replayed the earlier allegations over and over in his head.
The chill of early fall hung in the air and the nights were drawing in, but Josh barely registered either fact. Until now he'd been lost, his focus was the campaign, everything was about the campaign - until tonight. Which is why he was tearing through the wide open streets of DC; cursing at corners that slowed his progress. Storming ahead, approaching the intersection of K and 12th streets, he saw the light begin changing to red - amber first - taunting him, daring him. He began to slow and almost immediately felt his anger start to dissipate - but he wasn't ready to let it go. Gently easing off the accelerator, he advanced apprehensively - not willing to stop - and glanced up and down 12th. Seeing no oncoming traffic, he stamped on the gas and floored his somewhat neglected Lexus through the red light.
Josh had been glad to be back in DC - it was home, after all - and the familiarity of the streets brought an odd sort of comfort. That feeling however, was far outweighed by his fury at what had happened earlier that evening. Josh was shattered that it had happened here - his home, he reflected ruefully - where public perception was everything and the truth often counted for nothing. A town fuelled by innuendo and rumor, where thinly veiled attacks in the form of education debate, meant something else entirely. It had to happen here of course - in this political hot bed where it would quickly become an issue, a distraction from the real emphasis of the campaign and here, where it would wound the most.
His phone began ringing again, for the umpteenth time since he had stormed from his office in rage. He knew who was calling and had a pretty good idea of what they wanted to say, but right now he didn't want to hear it.
He swung onto 11th street realising that ahead wasn't an option because it was one way traffic. Cutting onto Mass. Ave. he saw the office ahead, the posters screaming his name, the ribbons blowing in the stiff breeze. Josh slammed on the brakes and roared to a stop in front of the building. The usual gaggle of reporters had long gone, needing to meet their deadlines, but Josh wouldn't have cared if they had been standing ten deep at the door. He marched up to the security guard who was looking edgy, obviously alerted by Josh's dramatic entrance that he might not be here on a social visit.
'Yes sir?' he asked, his left hand resting on his gun. Not that he expected to need it - this man in a suit looked more emotionally distressed than threatening - but why not remind him he had a weapon?
'Josh Lyman for Bruno Gianelli, and no I don't have an appointment but tell him if he doesn't see me now, I'll try my luck at the CNN studios down the road.'
Josh paced violently, thrusting his hands deeply into his pockets as the security guard repeated the request into the phone, word for word. After a short interval, the guard waved Josh through and he marched forward to the elevators, knowing exactly which floor he was looking for. The floors ticked by and at Level 4 the doors sprung open to reveal a dark, expansive office. The back rooms were bathed in a soft glow and Josh headed purposefully towards them. As he wove his way through the many deserted cubicles, all adorned with Vinnick merchandise, he felt almost physically ill. He strode into the boardroom, looking angrily around for the reason for this late-night visit.
There, sitting calmly, almost angelically at the boardroom table, a coffee mug within easy reach, sat Bruno, a smug contented smile spread across his face. For a moment Josh could only stare in disgust.
'I was just wondering Bruno,' he began casually, 'did your RNC membership card come with a one way ticket to Hades?' He stalked around the room, slowly, deliberately, not at all like the normally frantic campaign manager Bruno knew.
'Did they also provide the return envelope in which you could mail back your soul?' Josh's voice rumbled with a barely suppressed rage, Bruno noticing a steel edge that revealed how serious he was.
'Josh-' Bruno attempted immediately to subdue him.
'You wanna start this? You really want to start this?' Josh challenged, placing his hands carefully on the back of the chair in front of him.
'Good to see you on this side of town Josh-'
'You know what Bruno? Years ago, I almost bought it. I almost believed that you were this above-partisanship-for-the-sake-of-the-country-find-the-right-person-for-the-job guy. Not true though, you're just like everyone else. You just want to win, but you're worse, you'll sink to any level.' Pushing himself away from the chair, Josh began to pace on his side of the table, not taking his eyes from Bruno's face.
'Josh, I don't know what you think is going on, or what you think happened.' Bruno again attempted to quell Josh's rage with condescension, wanting to remain in control.
'I know exactly what happened.' Josh interrupted, halting briefly and turning to face him head on once more 'One of your low level, disposable congressmen went on national television and took a shot at Donna.'
'Really? That's news to me.' Continuing to look smug, Bruno rose from his seat, attempting with hands raised gently in mock surrender, to convey how unaware he was.
'That's crap!' Josh realised his voice was getting louder now, but right at that moment, he didn't care about being overheard. He knew he should care, but the idea that he should have to think about appearances at a time like this served only to infuriate him further. 'At least be man enough to own it! Your little lap dog is pushing a statement you'd never get Vinnick to say because it makes him look cheap and dirty! How dare you play this card!'
'How dare I what, Josh?' Deciding that the time for denial was over, Bruno finally launched his counter-attack. His manner calm and aloof, he approached Josh slowly, halting just a few steps in front of him. 'No one ever said politics was fair. I'm not here to come second. You're right I want to win, that's what I was hired to do. I see a way to do that, I'm going after it.'
'And that includes making slanderous statements?' Josh turned away from Bruno and started pacing again, but what came next stopped him as effectually as if he'd been slapped in the face.
'What did he say that was a lie?' Bruno spoke quietly, deliberately, wanting to make sure his words had the desired effect. Silence ricocheted around the room, Josh's glare speaking louder than words.
'Excuse me?' Josh remained still, hands firmly on his hips, the edge to his voice returning.
'What statement was a lie?' Bruno asked again. 'Has Donna ever completed a degree in anything? Has Donna ever had any experience besides being your assistant, on a national campaign? Did Donna get the job as your assistant by going through any formal interview process? Have there been questions raised before about the nature of your relationship?' Looking totally relaxed as he spoke, Bruno leant gently back against the window sill and folded his arms across his chest. He sighed heavily, wanting Josh to feel as if he was being schooled in the art of political warfare. 'Josh, I understand you're upset, in fact it's what I planned on. I want you off your game.'
'You're a total son of a bitch, you know that?' Josh growled. 'You're the man who pushed his way onto a lifeboat when women and children were dying on the Titanic. You're the man who sold the Nazis information about where Jews were hiding in Europe. You disgust me and when I win, when I absolutely nail your boss, I'll make sure to let every one know just how much of a son of a bitch you are.' Josh had moved towards the window and was now mere inches from Bruno's face. His voice was low but had a dangerous snarl to it that not even Bruno could pretend to ignore. For a moment, Bruno thought Josh was about to speak again, but he didn't. Disgusted, he simply spun on his heel and headed for the door.
'They already know,' Bruno said to Josh's back. Josh stopped in his tracks, and standing at the door, slowly turned and faced Bruno once more. Silence hung in the air for a moment then Josh stared directly at him, his eyes blazing, his hands driven fiercely into his pockets.
'You know what?' Josh spoke so quietly now, that Bruno almost had to strain to hear him. 'Do it. Come after Donna. 'Cause that'll give me a reason to come back at you with everything I've got. And believe me, you won't know what's hit you, because the difference between you and me, Bruno, is that I'll do it right.'
Continue on to Part 2
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