"The refrigerator in Josh's office," Donna replied.

"Stolen beer.  Excellent."  CJ looked at the younger woman sitting across the desk from her.  "You have learned your lessons well, Grasshopper."

Donna stared for a moment at the connecting door between CJ's and Josh's offices.  "I've finished ten pages already," she said.

"Ten pages of what?"

"The briefing book.  About what life is like for women in Qumar.  It'll be on his desk in the morning."

"Like that'll make a difference."

Donna shrugged.  "At least he won't be able to claim ignorance."

"There is that at least," CJ agreed.

They paused for a minute, each one contemplating the irony of working in the White House and being unable to do anything about the plight of women in Qumar.

"You can be murdered for teaching your daughter to read in Qumar," Donna finally said.

"They'll stone a woman to death for laughing."

"Although," Donna replied, "realistically, if you're a woman in Qumar, you probably don't have much reason to laugh in the first place."

"Fair point."  CJ took another swig of her beer.  "I should quit this crappy job.  Go to work for NOW or EMILY's List or some other group that's doing something."

"Take me with you."

CJ turned a speculative gaze toward Donna.  "You wouldn't stay here because of--"  She inclined her head toward Josh's door.

"Hell, no."

For a moment, CJ pondered whether this was a conversational topic she wished to pursue.  Reaching a decision, she said, "Women aren't allowed to drive in Qumar."

"'Cause if they did, they'd all get in the car and head for the border?" Donna suggested.

"Good idea."

"That's what we should do.  Go to Qumar, get a car and drive groups of women to the nearest safe location.  Sort of like Thelma and Louise, only without Harvey Keitel and the double suicide."

"Dibs on being Susan Sarandon," CJ said.

"You're taller.  You should be Geena Davis."

"I'm also older."  CJ's brow furrowed as she asked, "Is Susan Sarandon older?  Louise seemed older."

"Can I blow up the big phallic truck?" Donna asked.

CJ decided to be magnanimous.  "You got it."

"Then you can be Susan Sarandon."

With a nod, the women stood up and high fived each other.

"You know who I don't get?" Donna asked after a moment.

"Josh.  For another five years," CJ muttered under her breath.

"What'd you say?" Donna asked.

"Never mind.  Who don't you get?"

"Nancy McNally.  And women like her."

"In all fairness, there are few women like Nancy," CJ replied.  "She's black, she's female, she's a national security expert, she has power.  It's an unusual combination."

"But what's the good of having power if you're not helping other women?"

"A question I ask every time I look in the mirror."

"You help women."

"Name one."

"Me.  Carol.  Me and Carol."

CJ shook her head and stared out the window.  "When I took this job, I had something -- I don't know -- grander in mind."

Before Donna could reply, a man's voice asked, "Grander than what?  And why are you drinking my beer?"

CJ and Donna turned toward the sound of Josh's voice.  He stood by the connecting door, eyeing them speculatively.

"Bite me, Darryl," Donna said.

"Darryl?" Josh asked.

"Geena Davis' husband."

"Thelma and Louise," CJ explained.

"Oh, God," Josh muttered.  Walking over to Donna, he took the beer bottle from her hand and helped himself to a drink before handing it back.  "I've wandered into the weekly meeting of the All Men Are Scum Club."

"Not all men," CJ clarified.  "Just the ones who work in this building."

"Except maybe Charlie," Donna added.  "He's still young, so there's hope."

Josh laid back on CJ's couch and closed his eyes.  "You're still going on about the Qumar thing, aren't you?" he asked.

"For your information, the Qumar thing--"  CJ stopped abruptly, tilting her head to get a better look at Josh.  "What the hell happened to your pants?"

"Amy Gardner," Donna answered before Josh could explain.  "They're in loouurrve."

"Ahhh," CJ said.  "That would explain the stolen beer."

"No one said anything about love," Josh protested.  "Amy was being annoying."

Donna appeared fascinated by her drink.  "This is how it always starts," she explained to her bottle of Sam Adams.  "Some cutesy gesture to get his attention--"

"'Cutesy'?" Josh asked.

"Now he'll get all obsessed with her for two or three weeks.  But he'll decide he's much too busy to ask her out.  So then either she'll hijack him for a date--"

"Hijack?  What am I -- a plane?"

"Or she'll get tired of waiting and dump his ass.  Then he'll mope around and make my life miserable for another month or two."

"Amy Gardner has a thing for Josh?" CJ asked.

"No," Josh answered quickly.

"Yes," Donna countered.  "She even has a little nickname for him.  She calls him 'J.'"

"'J'?" CJ asked.  "Why?"

"Josh starts with J.  It's logical," he explained.

"J," Donna repeated.  "It sounds like a game show host."

"Or a late night comedian," CJ suggested.

"An Amway salesman," Donna added.

"It doesn't suit him," CJ concluded.

"My theory," Donna said, "is that she calls him J because she has trouble with 'sh' sounds."

"So what you're saying," Josh replied, "is that your whole Lilith Fair bonding thing only applies to yourselves and these women you never met in this country you've never been to."

"No," Donna answered, "what I'm saying is that your girlfriend talks funny."

"She's not my girlfriend.  And your attitude is hypocritical, Louise."

"Thelma.  Susan Sarandon was Louise.  Don't you know anything, Water Balloon Boy?" Donna asked.

'"Water Balloon Boy,'" CJ repeated.  "Now, that one's going to catch on."

"You're ignoring my point," Josh told Donna.

"Well, when I hear the rare valid point," Donna replied, "I'll pay attention."

"Fine."  Josh stood up, walked over to Donna's chair, and gestured for her to hand over the beer.  "My point," he said, "is that Amy works for a women's organization.  She's a feminist.  I would think you and Susan Sarandon over there would be a little less catty."

He raised the beer bottle to his lips.  A moment later, he was staring at the bottle in disappointment.  "Donnatella Moss, you drank all my beer."

"I'm not being catty," CJ told him.  "I'm making fun of you, not of Amy.  Jury's still out on Thelma, though."

"I am not being catty," Donna said.  "I am simply observing the fact that Amy Gardner seems to have a speech impediment."

"Yeah, well, it's not like I'm dating some Republican munchkin," Josh replied.

"Munchkin?" CJ asked.  "Am I missing something here?"

"No," Josh and Donna shouted in unison.

"Anyway," Josh said, backing down and taking his seat on the couch again, following a minute of Donna's glaring, "my point is that Amy's on our side.  More or less."

"So was Mandy," Donna replied.

"Burn!" CJ muttered, clearly impressed.

"And it's perfectly possible to admire a person's political position even if you don't like her personally."

"Nice alliteration there, Donnatella."

"You know," Donna remarked as she stood up and walked toward the door, "you think you can bring up things even when you know they will hurt me and it won't matter as long as you smile and say something funny a minute later."

"I didn't mean to--"

"Yes, you did.  You always do.  And I'm going back to work."  With that, she disappeared into the bullpen.

"What just happened here?" CJ asked, looking curiously at Josh's dejected expression.

"Damned if I know."  He sighed.  "Things with Donna -- that used to be the easy part of my life."

"And now...?"

He avoided looking CJ in the eye.  "There's this thing that happened," he said.

"Involving munchkins?"

"You don't want to know."

CJ studied Josh for a minute, taking in his sorrowful expression, the way he slumped forward in his seat, how he studied the floor as though interpreting her carpet pattern could help him unlock the secrets of the universe.

"Maybe you should tell me anyway," she said.

"I can't," he said, finally looking back up at her.  "Let's just leave it at that.  But since this thing happened, I don't seem to know what's going on with Donna anymore."

"And this bothers you?"

"Well, yeah.  Because Donna and I were always..."  He shrugged.  "And now we're not."

"Like so many things about you and Donna, that made very little sense."

Josh ran one hand through his hair as though he was trying to comb out his frustration.  "Half the time we're fine.  We're just us, kidding around like always, and then she turns on me for no reason."

"She certainly acted as though she had a reason just now."

"Believe me, she doesn't.  Hell, she should be grateful to me.  I probably kept her out of -- Never mind."

CJ leaned forward and rested her elbows on the desk.  "Here's a radical idea," she said.  "Why don't the two of you talk about whatever this problem is?"

Josh gave her a baffled look.

"Right," CJ muttered.  "You and Donna having an honest conversation about your feelings -- Whatever was I thinking?"

Silence descended over the room again as CJ finished her beer and Josh brooded.

"So," Josh said after a moment, "Amy Gardner mentioned something kind of strange tonight."

"Before or after she hit you with a water balloon?"

"Before.  She asked me if I was dating Donna."

"And you told her no, I hope."

"Of course I told her no.  I'm not dating Donna.  I've never dated Donna.  But then Amy said that she'd heard rumors."

"About you and Donna?"

"Apparently.  Are there rumors about me and Donna?"

"Yes, Josh," CJ replied, obviously struggling to keep a straight face.  "Because all of Washington is consumed with curiosity about the details of your sex life."

"That was a serious question, CJ."

"All right.  Seriously?  Yes.  There is the occasional rumor."

"Well, put a stop to it."

"What do you want me to do, Josh?  Wave my magic press secretary wand and make the rumors go away?"

"CJ, I'm serious.  Donna could be hurt by that kind of thing."

"Yes," CJ nodded, "she could.  But people talk in this town, Josh, and I can't stop them."

"Yeah, but they shouldn't talk about Donna."

CJ moved out from her chair and joined Josh on the couch.  "That is actually adorable in a patronizing sort of way," she said, putting an arm around him.  "It's touching that you're concerned.  But the truth is that Donna's young and she's gorgeous, you're powerful and not completely unattractive, and that combination is going to lead to gossip."

"It shouldn't."

"No, but there's really no way to stop it.  The most you can do is not give the rumor mill anything to work with."

"Yeah," Josh said.  His answer came out sounding like a sigh.  He stood up and started to leave.

"Hey, Josh," CJ called when he reached the door, "you never did tell me why Amy hit you with a water balloon."

"Actually, she didn't hit me."

"She didn't?"

"I mean, yes, my pant leg got a little wet, but she missed her target."

"She missed?"

"Yeah, she was aiming at my head."

"So not only does she have a speech impediment," a voice said from behind him, "she throws like a girl."

Startled, Josh turned around to find Donna looking way too amused.

"It was about fifty feet," he told her.  "Anybody could have missed."

"Not me," Donna said.  "I always hit my targets."

Josh grinned at her enigmatically.  "So I've noticed," he replied.  With a nod to CJ, he left the room.

"What the hell did he mean by that?" Donna asked CJ.

"You're asking me?  You're the one who interprets Josh's cryptic comments for the rest of us."

Handing CJ another beer, Donna took a seat.  "Yeah, but I seem to be off my game lately."

"Since the thing that happened?"

Donna looked startled.  "Josh told you about that?"

"He didn't tell me so much as he made vague allusions.  I don't suppose you want to fill me in on the details?"

"I can't.  Besides," Donna added, avoiding meeting CJ's gaze, "you'd be pissed at me if you knew the whole story.  And I've been through that once already with Josh."

"Oh, please tell me you and Josh didn't--"

Donna blushed.  "No!  No, of course not.  Actually, this is probably worse than that."

CJ contemplated the number of things that could be worse than the Josh and Donna situation becoming public during the MS investigation.  It was a troubling list, to say the least.

"How bad is this thing anyway?  In case I get the question."

"You won't get the question," Donna replied confidently.

"You can be sure of that?  In this town?"

"You won't get the question, CJ.  Josh fixed it."

"Ahhh."  CJ leaned back against the couch and endeavored to look wise.  "Well, that explains quite a bit.  You screwed up somehow, Josh came rushing to the rescue, now you're stuck with feeling you owe him, and that's never good for a relationship."

"I already owe him.  I came into the damn relationship owing him.  He hired me when I walked in off the street with no qualifications to speak of--"

"Let's not word it that way while we're being investigated by Congress," CJ suggested.  "You volunteered because you believed in Governor Bartlet's candidacy, and Josh was the first person to discover your amazing organizational skills."

"Whatever."

"It's true.  If I'd seen you first, you'd have Carol's job right now."

Donna beamed.  "CJ, that's so sweet.  And owing you wouldn't be nearly as uncomfortable as owing Josh.  Think Carol would switch jobs with me?"

"Not for a million dollars and a get-out-of-jail-free card."

Donna winced, leaving CJ wondering exactly what she'd said to make the other woman so uncomfortable.

"Anyway," Donna said after a moment, "I owe Josh for hiring me.  I owe him for taking me back after I quit.  Now I owe him for this."

"Are you good at your job?" CJ asked.

"Yes."

"So it's safe to say that Josh functions better because he hired you?"

"Of course."

"So you're even on the hiring and on the taking you back.  And whatever you did that Josh had to fix, I'm thinking you're probably still ahead, considering how much time you spent taking care of him after Rosslyn."

"No," Donna said softly.  "I'm not."

CJ's eyes widened in shock.  "What the hell did -- Was it really that big?"

"Bigger."

"And I won't get the question?  You're certain?"

"Positive."

CJ decided to let the subject go.  Although she didn't necessarily share Donna's faith in Josh's ability to fix whatever the problem was, she currently doubted her own ability to solve anything.  She opted for concentrating on quietly finishing her beer while contemplating the day's events.

"You know what drives me nuts?" CJ asked after a few minutes.

"Lobbyists with speech impediments?" Donna suggested.

CJ, lost in her own thoughts, didn't hear Donna's reply.  "Stupid questions from men who should know better.  Take Toby, for instance."

"Not to mention the utter insensitivity of it," Donna continued.  "She must have heard that Josh was shot.  It was in all the papers, after all.  Did it ever occur to her that maybe throwing her little missile at him might bring up, well, issues?"

"So this morning Toby's trying to be Mr. Sensitive Guy.  And I'll make allowances, considering that it's Toby.  Considering that sharing confidences with his co-workers is not something that comes naturally to our Tobus.  But then he asks me why I care so much about Qumar.  Why I fucking care so much!  Can you believe it?"

"If I did something that juvenile -- I mean, a water balloon?  Not even in junior high would I have done something that juvenile -- I'd never hear the end of it.  He'd snark me for months.  But she does it, and apparently it's the latest in postmodern dating rituals."

"As though I have to have some deep, dark secret that explains my outrage over the murder of women half a world away.  As though only men are allowed to care about issues on general principle."

"And the worst of it is that she's not like Mandy.  She's not, you know, some selfish bitch who just wants to win.  I mean, Amy Gardner's a feminist.  She gets paid to work for women's issues.  I should like her.  I should be sitting here thinking that she's perfect for him."

"You know who Toby is?  He's Harvey Keitel.  He's the guy who's supposed to get it.  He's supposed to be running behind us in slow motion to keep the cops from opening fire.  And half the time even Harvey Fucking Keitel doesn't get that women can care about issues bigger than ourselves just like the guys can.  I have never been raped, I have never been abused.  But my soul can still be wounded when I hear that any other woman has been."

Surprising herself with the intensity of her outburst, CJ blinked and slowly turned her attention back to Donna.

"She's a feminist," Donna said.  "I don't want to hate her.  What the hell is wrong with me?"

"Nancy McNally, you mean?" CJ asked, trying to pick the thread of the conversation again.  "Because I was going to say that you're wrong about her."

"No, not Nancy McNally.  Amy Gardner."

"Oh, that one's simple," CJ said. She leaned forward and, in a conspiratorial tone, whispered, "You think she has designs on your man."

"She does!  And he's not my man."

"You're the one who cast him in the role of husband."

"I'm the one who cast him in the role of controlling, insensitive--"  Donna paused, unable to find the appropriate noun.

"Husband," CJ repeated.  "Person to whom you are mated for life.  The old ball and chain."

"That's not what I meant.  Not at all.  Anyway, what did you mean when you said I was wrong about Nancy McNally?"

CJ adjusted her back against the sofa cushions and went along with Donna's obvious attempt at misdirection.  "I mean that you're wrong. Nancy McNally does as much as she can."

"It's not enough.  She has a responsibility to women."

"As do we all.  But here's the thing:  When you get to that level -- and few women ever do get to Nancy's level of power -- you've got this delicate balancing act.  You've got all these different issues and concerns and sometimes, even if you want nothing more than to stand there and tell the boys to go to hell so that you can help other women, that's not practical.  Because if you want to help women tomorrow and the next day and the day after that, you can never let the bastards think it's your first concern."  She closed her eyes and sighed.  "And that is the lesson Claudia Jean learned today."

"I still think she could have done something."

"That's because you're a baby feminist," CJ replied.

"I'm a what?"

"A baby feminist.  It's touching, really, watching you discover all this stuff.  You're devouring all this knowledge -- reading all the books, watching everything that goes on around here -- and you're absorbing it all.  I listen to you sometimes, and you just break my heart.  You're so convinced that we can end thousands of years of oppression right here in this administration.  I almost remember what it was like to believe all that when I watch you."

"I am not that naive," Donna protested.

"Sometimes.  Sometimes you are.  Which is why you can't understand about Nancy.  You're still at that 'women are wonderful' stage where you think we should always put the needs of the sisterhood first.  You don't understand the juggling act.  You don't get the number of compromises that a woman like Nancy has to make every day."

"Hey!  I've been through one presidential campaign and three years in the White House.  I've learned a little about compromise."

"I'm not saying you haven't," CJ replied.  "But you still think that Nancy McNally should put the rights of those Qumari women in front of everything else, don't you?"

"Don't you?"

CJ closed her eyes for an instant and rubbed one hand against her forehead.  "I wish she could afford to do that.  I wish I could afford to do that.  But there's the compromise, there's the juggling act.  If you keep the women's rights ball front and center for too long, the boys in power will dismiss you.  They'll call you all the usual names behind your back."

Donna nodded.  "Obsessed," she suggested.

"Shrill," CJ added.  "And then you'll lose whatever small measure of credibility you had with them, and you won't get anything accomplished.  So Nancy can't afford to put the Qumari women front and center, and neither can I.  Not when that deal is going to go through no matter what either of us may think privately.  Not if we want to be able to influence some other women's issue we may have a chance of actually winning somewhere down the line."

"I understand that," Donna said.  "I really do.  I just don't know -- I read what they're doing to women over there, and I don't know whether I could make that particular compromise."

"Well, that's the choice you have to make.  Nancy and I, we've chosen to work here, in the system.  Other women -- Amy Gardner, for instance -- chose a different path.  I mean, say what you want about Amy--"

"Oh, may I?" Donna muttered.

"At least her job doesn't require her to pretend she doesn't know these crimes against women exist.  At least she can take a meeting with someone like Josh and make him listen to the facts."

"Yeah, but he wasn't going to do a damn thing about it."

"What made him change his mind?"

"I don't know.  He realized that the whole 'forced prostitution' thing could be spun to make us look bad."

"Who pointed that out to him?"

"Well, I did, but--"

"And there you have it.  The old 'woman behind the man' strategy.  Worked for Mrs. Landingham for years.  Hell, it works for Abbey every day.  Why did Josh take the meeting with Amy in the first place?"

"Yeah, remind me to thank the First Lady for that sometime."

"You're already getting pretty good at the whole 'woman behind the man' thing, if that's where you want to go.  Josh listens to you.  You could stay right where you are for the rest of your professional life.  You could be his Mrs. Landingham."

"No.  I couldn't."

"Well, granted, the two of you need to figure out this whole attraction thing, but you could make it work.  The key is to separate your personal and professional lives.  Find yourself a guy.  Have a private life that doesn't revolve around Josh."

"Yeah.  I'm not having any real success on that front lately."

"No Brad Pitt?"

"What's Brad Pitt got to do with anything?" Donna asked.

"You know, in the movie.  He was Thelma's one-night stand."

Donna's expression quickly went from confused to uncomfortable.  "Yeah, I forgot that part."

"You forgot Brad Pitt?"

"He's not really my type."

"That's too bad.  Because the whole one-night stand thing might be a good idea for you."

"No.  It wouldn't."

Donna stood abruptly and crossed to the other side of the room, nearer to the connecting door and, coincidentally, to Josh.  "Didn't Louise have a boyfriend?" Donna asked.

"Jimmy." CJ nodded.  "Understanding and loving but ultimately transitory.  Which is maybe the moral of the story -- women can only rely on each other."

"That's a depressing moral."

"Well, the movie does end in a double suicide, after all."

"Yeah, but at least they escaped.  That was really the moral, wasn't it?  That women, no matter what the patriarchy does to them, hold on to their spirit.  No one can destroy that."

"Yeah, well," CJ said with a bitter laugh, "I'm sure they'd find that really uplifting in Qumar.  I'm sure Thelma and Louise driving off that cliff would be all the inspiration they'd need."

"Maybe not," Donna replied.  "But blowing up the big phallic truck -- even in Qumar, they'd have to appreciate that.  Maybe especially in Qumar."

"Possibly," CJ conceeded.

"So we're back where we started with getting a car and rescuing women."

"Right.  Fuck Harvey Keitel and Brad Pitt.  And who needs Jimmy anyway?"

"I certainly don't need an obnoxious, insensitive whatever."

"We'll take Nancy along though.  With her background in military stuff, she'll come in handy."

"Fine.  But Amy Gardner's on her own."

"Deal," CJ agreed.  "Besides, it sounds like she's a terrible shot anyway."

Closing her eyes, CJ leaned her head back against the couch and sighed.  "It would be nice, wouldn't it?" she asked.  "To actually feel like you were making a difference instead of just giving press briefings that don't tell the whole story."

"Or doing research that no one pays attention to."

"You know," CJ said, "I have this fantasy about our last day in office.  I have this fantasy that I'll go to my very last briefing, and I'll tell the press corps what I really think.  I'll say, 'You know that time I had to act like the Defense of Marriage Act was no big deal?  Well, privately, I call it the Defense of Homophobia Act.  And in case you couldn't tell, I was pissed off each and every time the Violence Against Women Act was voted down.  I personally do not believe that a woman who is desperate enough to seek an abortion needs to be lectured about what the anti-choice right-wing fanatics euphemistically refer to as other options; and it is my private opinion that this administration is, in fact, morally responsible for the torture of women in Qumar.'"

"On our last day in office," Donna said, "I swear I am going to tie Josh Lyman to his chair and--"

"For the love of God, Donna, there are some mental images I do not need in my head!"

"CJ!  That's not what I meant.  I meant that I was going to make him sit still and listen while I read every briefing memo relating to women's issues that I have ever written."

"Oh.  Well, that's all right.  That's a good fantasy."

"There's more."

"Somehow I knew there would be."

"I'm going to quit.  On the very last day.  He'll just be assuming that good old faithful Donna will follow him like a puppy dog to whatever job he takes next.  Well, I'll show him.  On the very last day, I'll wave my college admission forms in his face and tell him to find another assistant.  Then I'll get my degree, and I'll go to work for NOW or EMILY's List or something."

"Why wait?" CJ asked.

"You think I should quit now?"

"Maybe not quit, but what's keeping you from taking a course or two a semester?  Charlie manages it."

"Charlie's boss is a little more reasonable than mine."

"One course.  Three or four hours a week.  Josh could learn to live without you for that long, couldn't he?"

"Probably not.  He'd complain that he's being terribly inconvenienced."

CJ leaned forward and grinned.  "Oh, this is too good.  This is at least one small way we can get back at them."

"What is?"

"You should sign up for a course.  Hell, sign up for something good -- Feminist Political Theory or something like that.  I'll cover for you.  If Josh notices that you're not here, I'll tell him I sent you off on some errand or other."

Donna smiled.  "Oh, this is better than stealing his beer!  It will probably be midterm before he even realizes I'm spending time away from the office."

"He'll go hoarse shouting your name when you're not even in the building."

"He'll spend most of the time I'm gone running through the West Wing trying to find me."

"Hell," CJ said, "half the time he's so distracted anyway that we could convince him he talked to you five minutes ago."

Donna did her best wide-eyed, innocent look.  "What do you mean where was I?" she asked.  "Josh, you sent me to the Hill, remember?"

"This," CJ concluded, "is a great plan.  In some ways, this is a better plan than going to Qumar."

"Right," Donna agreed.  "I'll start throwing little bits of information from my Feminist Theory class into my conversations with Josh.  Before he knows what hit him, he'll have an education of his own on feminism."

"Oh, I love this.  I'm especially looking forward to the moment when Josh starts repeating your feminist theory information in senior staff meetings."

The two women grinned at each other in anticipation.  "So," Donna said finally, "I think I'll just go do some research on next semester's course offerings."

"Right.  I need to get to work on that letter of recommendation I'll be writing for you."

"You know," Donna said with a twinge of regret, "it's still not as good as blowing up big phallic trucks."

"All in good time," CJ replied.  "Besides, you have to admit -- it beats the double suicide pact all to hell."

THE END

12.30.01