Small Steps


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[3rd person pov]

The time is two months later and he still sometimes wonders if he should have told her then. He wonders whether it would have made everything all right. He supposes not; and he's glad he didn't take the risk to find out. There was no right time then, he told himself, and he still agrees with that.

Besides, what would he have done? Told her five minutes after the appearance of Mr. Charming that his love for her could surmount all her hurt; that only good things would happen when they were together? He half smiles at the thought - amused more by the soap- opera type scenarios he conjures in his head than the reality of seeing her lying in the hospital bed. The fantasy runs its course; the finale of the episode is a cliff-hanger whereby Donna has to choose between Mr. Charming and the man that she has always secretly loved: him. Of course, in his fantasy, there's no real choice to be made; but in reality, he's not convinced. The appearance of Mr. Charming has displaced him; caught him off-guard.

In hindsight, he wonders if telling Mr. Charming that there was "no issue" was the right choice. But as the red-hot love affair he convinced himself they were involved in seems to have fizzled out with time and the ocean that now lies between them, he can't complain.

Later, he was too worried about Donna in surgery to think about anything.

No, he decides, not telling her was the right choice. The only question he has now is when to tell her how he feels. He knows that he must, if only for his sake, because it drives him crazy now that he's figured it all out. However, truth be told, the idea of confronting the situation frightens him. He's starting to come to the conclusion that it might be less daunting if he took it in small steps; if he first tried to be a better friend, and then worked with it from there, in logical, manageable continuations. He smiles again, this time at the thought of "wooing" his assistant.

He makes a considerable effort to conclude the line of thought and return to his work. The hour is late and, since it's Friday, he feels a genuine lack of motivation to plough through the stacks of agricultural information that adorn his desk. However, he knows that he must; being unprepared for tomorrow's meeting is not an option he can accept.

Thoughts of Donna still play on his mind, but he manages to put them aside in order to complete his review.

Then he sits back, closes his eyes. He should go home, he decides, but the mere thought of rising from his comfortable position is irksome.

The phone rings and disturbs his relaxation. He waits a moment to answer, hoping silently that it's not bad news.

He picks up, announces his name, and is greeted by her voice. He smiles.

"You're still at work," she accuses.

"You're still awake," he returns. "So, y'know, I think we're even."

"I slept half the day," she reasons.

"I worked half the day," he counters, although afterwards he is unsure of its significance. There's a brief pause when he's not sure what to say. "So, Donnatella, for what do I owe the pleasure of your call at..." he glances at his watch, "10pm on a Friday night?"

"It's 9:45 and I'm bored," she declares.

"You're bored?" he questions, amused. "What happened to those girly magazines and trashy romance novels you were reading?"

"There's nothing trashy about Pride and Prejudice," she replies indignantly. "And besides, I finished it, along with everything else in the apartment."

"Can't your Mom get you some new books?" he asks. "Or I could bring some over?"

"She could, but I convinced her to go out for the night since Dad's in town. And she'd probably disapprove of your selection. Or I would."

He lets the comment pass. "So you're now looking to... What - get some work gossip?" he inquires, amused.

"Well... do you have any?" she asks, eagerly. "Mom's not allowing me to talk to people about work."

He laughs. "Like mother, like daughter, eh? The rules don't seem quite so necessary when you're on the receiving end, do they?" he teases.

"That's it, I'm calling CJ. She won't abuse me like this," she threatens. He knows she's joking.

"I'll be nice, I promise," he smiles.

She snorts. "Nice, right."

He ignores this. "So, talk to me. What have you done today?"

"Well, I woke up. I ate breakfast. I watched C-Span until Mom turned it off. I tried to learn some Latin. I slept. I ate lunch. I watched daytime soap operas. I finished The Great Gatsby. I did my exercises. And then, most exciting of all, I slept," she concludes dramatically.

"Sounds like an exhausting day. Out partying tonight?" he asks, sarcastically.

"Yeah, just after I run 10 miles and scale the Lincoln memorial," she returns.

"You're having too much fun there, Donnatella."

"Bet you're missing me, Joshua." He's not sure if she's continuing the sarcasm; her voice is quieter. She sounds tired.

"You should get some more sleep," he advises. "It's late."

"I sleep too much. I'm at least going to stay awake through a whole movie tonight."

"You're a stronger person than me."

"You should join me. We could challenge each other to see who can stay awake longest. It'd be fun" she says, sarcastically.

"And what does the winner get?" he asks, amused.

She thinks for a moment. "The left-over ice cream?" she offers. "So, gonna take me up on my exciting offer?" she asks, jokingly. Except that it doesn't sound like much of a joke to him. And he can't think of a more enjoyable way to spend the evening.

"Really?" he asks.

She doesn't answer for a second, and he wonders if she fell asleep on him, or whether she's building up the courage to turn him down. "Yeah," he hears her say softly. He needs no more encouragement.

"I'll be over soon - with ice cream," he promises, before hanging up.

He smiles to himself. It's the beginning of his plan; he'll start with being better friends with her, and take it in small steps from there. It might take a while, but with every step he'll be closer to letting her know. Besides, he decides as he exits the building, they're not ready for anything more. Not yet.

~

THE END

 

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