Authors Note: I wrote this to try and find some closure for myself from the Josh and Donna love story that was The West Wing. I've been too obsessed recently, and needed to work through these missing scenes for myself, to see how I could believe everything was resolved.

I don't think the way I write Josh & Donna is for everyone, to my mind, they changed a lot during the final two series and I didn't see nearly enough of them, especially together to see how this impacted. But this is how I imagine them and their missing scenes from Election Day, and Transition.

Thanks for all the other J&D fics, I've loved them all, and I'm glad I'm not the only obsessive! It's great to see how many different interpretations of their relationship there are out there. I hope this helps someone else with their obsession, as other fics have helped me.

Thanks to Aaron Sorkin & John Wells, I love you both with a passion, sorry for borrowing your characters and creations, but it's hard not to borrow from something so gobsmackingly perfect.


Confusion is a Small Price

"Did you ever, come on board?"

He says the words, but she had moved the pieces. He'd been busy getting a dark horse candidate to the brink of the presidency, and she'd taken advantage of his distraction, changing the nature of the game. Check in three moves, he can't see a way out, he doesn't want a way out, but this is her game now and she is making the final play.

He loves her. His Donna. It had taken too long to realise, she had become a part of him before he was able to put a name to his emotions. It's not easy realising you are in love, and when your boss has just put her on a helicopter heading for the arms of 'Commander Wonderful'. "Oh, get it together, would you please?" He tried. "These are stories which would make me like you", why hadn't he known earlier? Realising you are in love is just the start, and unfortunately the route from friendship to relationship is overcomplicated especially when he is a monomaniacal workaholic, she is the indispensible assistant, and they have both spent years carefully moving the game pieces into a work oriented pseudo marriage style blockade. Exciting, stimulating, ambiguous, constricting, stale-mate.

Did you ever, come on board? He can't believe he is asking. The answer is no, he knows the answer will be no, but a small part of him needs to hear that she had never really left him for Will. She had left The White House, but they wouldn't be here with just a final few moves to play if she had left him.

"No."

"Never had a campaign fling?"

The cross-examination was un-gentlemanly but he is out of his depth.

"No."

He's closing his eyes and leaning back into the moment. He's trying to see the whole board. How much did Donna's decision to leave the White House inform his decision to seek out Santos? It may have been inadvertent but he had to admit that Donna's move had helped him along this path. The path that Leo laid out from his hospital bed. Josh would never have 'Found his Guy' if Leo hadn't released him by promoting CJ. Donna releasing him from his personal tie to the West Wing was the final push he needed to take this path. Was it all ending today, or was this just another beginning? He is glad that Donna and Leo are with him however it plays out.

She's moved to sit beside him.

A professional political operative. A woman who's opinions matter, to more than just him. A spokesperson for the next president of the United States, someone people listen to. Respected as a colleague and appreciated as a friend by her peers. Donna. Tall, blonde, beautiful. Donna. The woman who can make him smile. The woman who can make him forget how worried he is about the hours to come. How could he have thought her, 'his'. This Donna is all her own. And she's letting him back into her life.

He must remember to breathe. If he can summon his wits he can hope this is a beginning that counts, but he's losing his mind to his more base senses. He can smell her shampoo mingling into the smell of scotch.

"You want another drink?"

"No."

She's making her final move. Her power play. She's walking away, but this time they both know he is following her.

He can feel everything. His hands, his face, his spine, the scotch burning down his throat into his warm belly. He jumps to catch up with her, it's the only move left to him, and the only move he wishes to make.


The elevator doors close. They're standing side by side. Donna believes she has mastered the sultry look, well, until she turns and spots his soppy grin and her face betrays her by slowly returning his smile. She reaches out with her little finger seeking some small contact. His fingers brush against her palm. She wonders if she is feeling the future echoes of her long awaited orgasm reverberating back through time as her insides tighten. Maybe not.

The elevator doors spring back to life and she releases his hand, walking resolutely past her hotel room to the far end of the corridor, only stopping when she reaches his door. There's an awkward moment when he can't decide if he should pass the card to her, or open the door himself. She was his assistant for a long time and sometimes she can't help but fall back into the practicalities of caring for Josh. Not that it was ever part of her job description, but the lines between boss and assistant had been blurred from the day she hired herself.

Bartlet for America had been a breath of fresh air for a flighty college drop out from Wisconsin. She's still not sure what made her seek out the campaign. She'd not been making much sense post break-up, and she certainly couldn't give a coherent reason for leaving the campaign for her unworthy boyfriend. It hadn't taken her long to realise the mistake though, to return to the intense, unpredictability of campaign life and Josh.

Looking back she wonders if she was in love with Josh the whole time, but in reality this probably isn't the case or at the very least it's not something she'd considered.

She was intensely grateful to him. She wore his credentials in preference to her own, until the secret service got involved. But it was the job and the opportunities she was grateful for, bouncing from state to state with a large campaign team, helping research any number of policy positions, meeting passionate young activists; and ultimately, developing the close bonds of friendship that allowed work with Josh to swallow up her free time with no noticeable loss.

Josh was her friend and boss first, but after she almost lost him for a second time she had to acknowledge that the roots of their friendship had pierced her heart. Rosslyn was hard, for all of them. But Yo-Yo Ma produced her own personal moment of heartbreak. There had been signs all week, he was on edge and angry, but she knew he shouldn't be alone that night. Something had changed after the performance, he was scared, still angry, but scared. He insisted on being alone. Alone with destructive thoughts. She bought him coffee the following morning. She was that worried she left home early to take him coffee to his apartment. Coffee. He didn't see her. He was leaving as she pulled up. His hand weird, bandaged.

She wouldn't have noticed the window if he hadn't looked back. Trying to run your hands through your hair doesn't work so well with bandages. A few deep breaths to compose herself and Josh and his car were gone. A few more deep breaths and she was crossing the street. Letting herself in. Violating Josh's space. She had a key, she'd let herself in before, but only when Josh was recuperating or she'd consented to collect something for him. There was blood, on the window, on the floor, on a towel in the hamper.

She had let one of the nurses at the emergency room comfort her - having mistaken Donna for the distressed wife. It wasn't hard for Donna to pretend. Not nearly hard enough.

She was more careful afterwards. Tried to be more careful afterwards. She didn't want to be the clichéd assistant. She played the game: banter, work, friendship. But whether she knew it or not, sabotaging Josh's relationships just as surely as he had sabotaged hers. Albeit using the opposing strategy: eagerly supporting his flawed attempts to pair with unsuitable women, antagonistic women. She could just picture the curly haired child Josh pushing over a brash young girl in the playground. It probably worked, his curls were very cute, but holding hands in the playground for half an hour then fighting for half an hour, doesn't count as a successful relationship after third grade. Of course refusing to bring him coffee for eight years, then moving to work for the opposition isn't any better.

But Donna has moved on from the cliché. Lou is her boss. Well that's how Donna tries to see it. And even she knows that their eight year coffee spat was an inconsequential aspect of an eight year partnership. Unequal, but a partnership. It is time for something new: In her dreams, another kind of partnership. Equal. Uncomplicated. Supportive.

They're standing in his room. Foreheads, noses, hips touching. Breathing in one another. Slowly rocking into a pirouette. If there were music playing you'd call it dancing, but they're just finding their centre. Completing the final orbits of their long slow spiral deep into one another's lives.

His voice breaks "are you…"

"Josh, I'm sure. We wouldn't be here if I weren't." She's suddenly apprehensive. Did she give him enough time to process this? Is this his choice? She can feel his choice at her hip, but she needs his mind as well as his body.

She's tensed up and he can feel it. "I'm sure Donna," he's whispering into her ear. Did she imagine it? He draws back "I'm sure" he says again, this time looking deep into her eyes, so she understands.

Relaxing again, she runs her fingers through his curls, drawing him back to her, capturing his lower lip, resuming their delicate dance.

He's exploring her lips, his hands drawing delicate patterns on the small of her back raising her top. Are the goosebumps from the cool of the night air? Probably not. She removes his jacket, disappointed for a moment that this means relinquishing his hands from their comforting caress, but he's taking advantage, helping her out of her top - she's sighing - that means relinquishing his lips, but it's all for a good cause. A very good cause. He's trailing kisses down her neck, across her shoulder, down her arm.

She doesn't think he was paying attention. His other hand has discovered a breast, and it's only now he appears to notice she's down to her bra. He's mesmerised. He's running a finger down her chest, over the curve of her breast, her nipple calling to him, puckering under the silky fabric as he plays with it between his fingers. She feels echoes from her future again, anticipation is pulling her onto her chosen path.

His head snaps back up. He has that caught with his hand in the cookie jar look. He's not used to this yet. She hopes with practice this will become second nature. She's been watching his dawning realisation with amusement, the slow smile lighting her face again.

Once she has his shirt off she's not sure she can spot his scar in the dim light. She can feel it when she explores his chest, but it's probably not good idea to draw attention to it right now.

He's found the zipper on her skirt. Does he know there's also a clasp? No. Tugging isn't going to help.

Ooops, Donna remembers "Pantyhose!" she exclaims, "When we win this I want research money. 'How to remove your pantyhose without interrupting the moment'. There's got to be a doctoral candidate somewhere willing to write their thesis on the phenomenon. It should have been in the stump speech. It's a vote winner Josh, woman's issue and all."

"How much will you need?" He is kicking off his shoes and socks as she removes the offending pantyhose.

"Well, we're talking college campus research, so a keg and a stack of pizza and you'll probably get a line of women willing to divest themselves of their underwear in no time."

Josh closes his eyes and shakes his head "Why didn't my college have half naked women?"

"Are you whining Joshua?"

"Absolutely not Donatella. I was just about to count my blessings."


Donna's panties. This isn't the first time he's held Donna's panties, but this is the first time they're filled with… well… Donna. Straddling him, grinding against his pants, his cock straining for freedom.

She pushes him back across his bed, treating his chest to a series of butterfly kisses, her sweeping hair adding to the sensation. Oh that feels good, but Donna playfully biting his nipple while her panties are doing such a good job of stimulating him is likely to end this evening sooner than Donna intends.

"Donna?" he's grabbing her hands, encouraging her to sit up so he can regain some control. "Donna?"

"You ok?" her voice has gone high, she's worried.

"Yes Donna" Oh, that came out lower than he'd intended. He's flipping her over, laying down beside her, giving his cock some relief. Stroking her beautiful belly. "Very ok darling."

"Darling?" She's smiling.

"Just trying something?" his voice is too high now, he coughs "Um, sweetheart?"

"Try again, maybe Sam can help you pen something suitable."

He's confused, "What does Sam call you?"

She's resolute. "Donna."

"Yeah, that works." He's hopeful he's regained control of his vocal chords, and his cock is returning to its regular level of interest in the situation.

He's running a finger under her bra strap. Releasing a breast. He can't remember, did that mad British Ambassador ever compliment Donna's breasts? Someone should. It would probably be inappropriate to ask for a presidential proclamation honouring them, but it's a thought he can tease her with in the future. He has other ways of teasing her now. She's moaning beneath his mouth. Sucking, nipping. She's arching her back, he's working on the clasp, removing her bra, allowing him access to the other breast. He can't decide if he has a favourite, but they both deserve his attention.

She's bucking her hips his fingers teasing just inside the material of her panties. He's working her slowly, increasing her need, as he moves closer to the apex of her desire.

He's cupping her. Easily slipping a long finger into her core. Two fingers, she's ready, squeezing him rhythmically, welcoming him, pulling him inside. He's taking his time, moving in and out, concentrating on the upper wall, he's hoping to find her sweet spot. A moan. That sounds promising. He's sucking her nipple, pulling it into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. He increases the intensity as he's exploring her insides, providing her with the pressure she desires. His thumb gives relief to her clit, he can feel it throbbing as she rocks against him, encouraging him. Faster. Harder. She's close, another tug at her nipple and she shudders. The start of the first of her orgasms, his orgasms, the ones he will give her. The ones he can watch, share, enjoy. How long can he help maintain this one? He continues to gently massage her until she stops shuddering and contracting around him. Her eyes open her mouth forms the words "Thank you". She's happy, warm, relaxed.

He removes his fingers from her warm, wet embrace. He should wash up.

Oh my, he's been neglecting his cock. He shouldn't have stood up so fast, it's still caged in his trousers.

He's washing his hands. A vision appears in the mirror, she has followed him into the bathroom, an almost naked waif with the dishevelled hair and sated face. She's picked up her clothes, deposited them on the counter. He's surprised, she's recovered quickly, ready for round two.

She hooks her fingers into the waistband of his trousers. The top of her head against his chest looking down at the obvious bulge.

Hesitantly she asks "Do you have condoms?" she's looking up, slightly ashamed "I do, but they're in my room, I'm sorry, I forgot, I'll get them. I should have thought about it earlier, I really wasn't planning on … this … this evening. I just got…" does she growl? "… lucky."

He reaches for his washbag. Places an unopened packet of condoms in her hands.

"… 'kay…" She's thinking "Josh... Why do you have condoms?"

He kisses her forehead. "It seems I accidentally kissed a beautiful woman a couple of weeks ago, and well, I kinda hoped there might be some kind of follow up." He shrugs, charmingly of course.

"Accidentally?"

"Fortuitously!"

"Belatedly?" Maybe she means it, but she's smiling, teasing. He wonders if they could have had this earlier. He was ready in Germany, after Gaza. He grimaces. The timing was against them, and that was the beginning of the end. Maybe not the end, the interlude?

She's unbuttoning his pants. The foil packet containing the condom between her teeth. So she doesn't lose/forget this one? He lets his pants fall to the ground and steps towards her. His hands on her hips he is walking her back to the bed. It's late. It was late before they started, he doesn't have the energy to slam her against the wall. He has a bed, and he intends to use it.


She removes his boxers. Carefully easing his cock from the material, stroking it with her fingertips, exploring the parts of Josh that have been denied to her for so long, massaging his balls. He gasps. He's gently stroking her jaw taking the packet from her teeth and placing it on the nightstand, kissing her, probing deep into her mouth.

"I want you inside me Josh" She's kneading his ass, pulling him closer.

She's falling back onto the bed, but no, he's supporting her, gently lowering her. He's lifting her hips, pulling her panties down her thighs, over her long legs. Kissing her at unexpected intervals up one lucky leg until he teasingly circles her clit with his tongue. She's wet, still wet from her last orgasm, awaiting the next. They are both reaching for the condom packet, the anticipation is liquefying her insides, she knows he must be aching for release as he rolls the condom down his cock. He's between her legs, his hands separating her thighs, making room for his hips, his cock.

He's above her, he's inside her, flexing his hips, finding his place. She encircles him with her legs, as they attempt to find their rhythm. A rhythm where they can be more than boss and assistant, more than friends, more than the sum of their history. A rhythm that will allow them a new future, healing the rift that has separated them since Gaza. Her hands in the curls at the nape of his neck. Studying his face drinking in his eyes. Can they do this? Can this be their future?

She is over thinking. She knows it. She can't plan her future yet. The country will decide their future tomorrow. When the polls open, everyone will get to vote on her future. For the time being she has to live in the present. Enjoy the distraction. Flexing to meet his thrust. Groaning in glorious agony as he slams deeper hitting the sweet spot burning inside her, again and again. Her spine is melting, she feels herself begin to unravel, shuddering, drawing Josh along with her. One last shuddering thrust and he joins her.

They are breathing deeply. In unison. Their foreheads almost touching. He slips out of her. There is nothing to say, she wanted this, she has been waiting for this for a long time, but now she waits. The polls will decide what kind of future they have. She must breathe.


He rolls off her. Pushing off the bed, he heads to the bathroom to flush the condom. He splashes water on his face, flashing a brief half smile to his reflection in the mirror.

Donna has arranged herself under the covers. He is getting back into bed. She kisses him chastely on the cheek, rolls away from him, and makes herself comfortable wriggling into her pillow. She is sleeping in his bed. He can't sleep. He studies her. The curve of her back, her shoulder, her spine.

He thinks she's skipped a move again. Just like when she hired herself. Shouldn't there be awkward conversation? And in his limited experience there was usually cuddling. He's lost. If she's not going to walk him through, then he is definitely lost. He smiles. Confusion is a small price to pay for sex with Donna.


He wakes, groggy. The sun's already high in the sky, streaming through the drapes. He's not slept this late in… well… he can't remember, but it's been a long time. The room is too quiet, she's not here, all he can hear is the hum of the air conditioning.

He rubs his eyes, runs his hands through his hair, grabs a bottle of water from the nightstand. Did Donna leave it there? It's still cool from the refrigerator, how long has she been gone?

He can't stay in bed. His mind's racing, despite knowing there's nothing he needs to do. No call sheet to respond to. No positions to staff. Nobody seeking favours. Not for another week at least, just Donna. And she's been easy, patient, a comforting presence. It's amazing he survived the past year without her. He couldn't have survived Leo without her. He can't remember what they'd talked about, but she had listened, held him, reminding him that tomorrow would come.

Where is she? Her purse is on the coffee table, the book she's reading, discarded on the couch. Well, she can't have gone far if she left her purse. He opens the doors to the balcony, letting the warm Hawaiian air fill his lungs. The happy splashing sounds from the pool below make him think of warm water soothing his aching shoulders. A shower. That's a plan.

The bathroom smells of suntan lotion. The smell of Donna Moss on vacation. He can't say he doesn't enjoy massaging her pale Wisconsin skin. Alabaster. The steam, the shower gel, her shower gel, the washcloth invigorating his body, he can feel himself rising, reaching, touching. He turns the faucet to cold. He doesn't want her to return to the sight of that. He's not ready for that. He needs the talk. She said they didn't have to, but now he realises he needs it.

The cold water has calmed him. Awoken him to a truth, he needs to talk, think. He wraps himself in a towel and heads out to the balcony to dry in the sun. He can see Donna now his mind has cleared. She's swimming languidly on her back down below. He watches. Another two lengths and she reaches for the side. Pushes herself out of the pool in one smooth movement, sitting dangling her legs, drying her face with her towel.

She's spotted him. He can see her smiling. Ok, he can't see her smiling, but he knows she is. He's smiling back. She walks to her sun lounger, wraps her sarong around her hips and picks up her tote. He should have noticed it was missing before. She's heading back into the hotel.

He's still leaning over the balcony when she returns. She wraps her arms around his waist as he turns to kiss her. They stand wrapped in one another for a moment enjoying the reunion.

He squeezes her. "Are you ready for lunch? We can get room service." If they're going to have the talk he'd prefer to eat in their room than head out.

She nods "Chicken Salad please, can you order? I need to wash off the chlorine."


He has dressed while she was in the shower. Shorts, ok, they aren't that short, barely show off his calves, but he can't quite get used to them. The loose white shirt is more him, but very few of the buttons are in use. He clears the table, to make way for their meal, then collapses into the couch, watching Donna. He loves watching her relaxed.

She's piled up her still damp hair, pulling on utilitarian white panties and a matching white bra. She dumps the towels in the bathroom as she heads to the closet. When did she unpack her suitcase? Ok, they've been here three days, but he didn't notice this domesticity. The tight white shirt pulled over her bra reminds him of his catholic schoolgirl fantasy, not that he's upset when she pairs it with indecent denim hotpants. Not even a fantasy catholic schoolgirl could wear denim hotpants for Josh. There's always the fantasy farm girl though, that's more Donna.

Smoothing back the bed sheets she spots him watching her.

"Do you fancy whale watching tomorrow Joshua?"

He groans.

"Did you forget you brought me to Hawaii? Waterfalls or Whales, your choice, and the waterfalls mean hiking."

"I knew I preferred Montana, roasting fires and snugly blankets, and nobody making me leave the room."

"We'd have gone skiing though." She doesn't sound like she'd have given him a choice.

"Whales it is then." He doesn't mind. He wants to take her out. Explore.

The food has arrived. She's investigating the trolley to see what's under the cloches as he tips the waiter.

"Salad?" she asks.

"Isn't that what you wanted? Chicken salad?"

"I mean this", she says holding out his salad niçoise.

"That's mine, tuna!" he grins.

"I can see it's tuna, silly, I'm just surprised it's salad, did they refuse to burn a burger for you?"

"I did order fries as well."

"Thanks!" She pulls them towards her digging in. He should have foreseen this.


"Shall I ask the concierge to organise whale watching for tomorrow?" she asks "We can go at sunset, if that's not too romantic? It'll be good to get out of the hotel."

"Sunset's good." His voice is high. Fork almost to his mouth. He puts it back to his half empty plate. "I'm sorry."

She smiles "For not leaving the hotel? It takes two Josh, we've been… preoccupied. And you needed a little stress relief. A lot of stress relief." She pauses "Are you ok baby?"

"Yes. No… I mean I'm sorry this took so long, I'm sorry I pushed you away, I'm sorry I didn't let you go sooner, I didn't give you the opportunities you deserved. I'm sorry I sent you to Gaza. I'm sorry I didn't hire you back."

She puts down her fork. "We're… we're having the talk?" She's surprised.

"Yes, I need to. I'm sorry. I can't skip this step. I don't want to skip this. I want you to know I'm sorry, and I don't want to lose you again because I refused to talk."

"Kay" she sips her wine "One at a time, why didn't you hire me back?"

"I couldn't."

"Josh!"

"No, I mean, I couldn't because it was too hard. I missed you too much, seeing you with Will. You were different, free. I was… jealous?"

"Of Will?"

"Of everything he could give you." He whispers "You called him your teacher."

"I was joking Josh. Well, no, he taught me a lot, and so did you. But it was the campaign that gave me the opportunities. I couldn't have that in the West Wing. Will relied on me because he had to, everyone else was twelve. You, Lou, gave me the same opportunities working for Santos and there were a lot more adults on board after the convention."

"And you and Will?"

"Josh!"

"Sorry" he breathes.

"He told me to go for it. With you. The day we kissed… Don't let me play poker!"

He remembers, "I couldn't stop smiling that day. Everyone thought it was the numbers. Did I hug Annabeth?"

"Yes" she growls.

"It hurt… not being with you." He adds seeing she was confused. "It hurt so much I couldn't bear seeing you. I'm glad Lou insisted on having you. There was too much for me to say, too much for me to get past. It was my fault."

"I'm the one who left Josh. I'm sorry, I should have warned you."

"No, it happened before that. Germany."

"I was in an explosion Josh. I was drugged. I could hardly get you coffee."

His breathing's fast. He doesn't need reminding about the explosion. Does she know he's traced the faint scars over her body, trying not to cry?

"I'm the one who left Donna. I was expecting too much. I was in love, and finally ready to tell you. I didn't know if you'd be ok, I was desperate. Leo sent me. He knew. And…"

"Colin?"

He waits, whispers "I was expecting too much. Things changed after that. I couldn't be normal again."

"You were in love?"

He said it, he can't take it back now. "Yessss."

"I was so scared Josh. You'll never know what it was to see you by my bed." She blinks away her tears. "You were in love?"

"I am in love Donna. I have been in love for a long time."

"When did you know?"

"Does it matter?"

"No"

"I threw snowballs at your window."

She giggles. "You had help."

"Yes, but I was the good cop. And Charlie was whining about Zoe, and Toby & Danny, well, they have their own romantic issues."

"Will was there…"

"Thanks for remembering that Donna."

She grins. "Will's seeing someone you know. Classified! … Leo knew?"

"We never talked about it, we're men, but yeah. He knew I needed to be with you. He knew why." He changes tack. "When…" he can't ask.

"When did I know I was in love with you?"

He nods.

"Who says I'm in love with you?" she pours herself another glass of wine and moves to the couch.

"Leo, Joey Lucas, Sam, Zoey, Helen Santos." He can go on. He gets up and follows her.

"Helen? How does Helen know?"

He's incredulous "She chose you as her Chief of Staff, you don't think she pays attention to you?" he sighs, more apologetic "She saw how I changed around you, and I guess she worked out it goes both ways." Incredulous again "And anyone who didn't know before will notice we're both out of the office."

She wriggles round so she's facing him. Their legs entwined in the space between them.

He realises he hasn't said it. Not properly. "I love you Donnatella."

She smiles. "I love you Josh." She pauses. "I've loved you for a long time. But…" she paused again.

"But? If you're going to pause, it probably shouldn't be there Miss Campaign Spokesperson Moss." He tickles her ankle.

"That's the kind of the point Josh. I was your assistant. We couldn't have worked together as we did, and have this as well."

He can't deny it, how could it have been different? He knows it couldn't have been. It took an explosion for him to think he could tell her.

"We were both hurt by what we didn't have. But…"

"… we could have hurt each other much more doing this in the West Wing?" he finishes her thought.

"I couldn't have told you how I felt when I was working for you."

"Technically" he squeeks "you were working for me when you jumped me."

She throws a pillow at him mimicking him "Hi, I'm Josh Lyman, and you all work for me." He had lost all subtlety in the final weeks of the campaign, and had been asked to stay out of local campaign offices after that outburst. She's sticking her tongue out at him. "You know what I meant Josh, and I wasn't going to wait for you to take the initiative."

"I'm a Fulbright Scholar Donna, I'd have got there eventually."

"You had a plan? Did it involve insulting me somehow? Pulling my pigtails and hoping I'd realise you wanted sex?"

"I didn't have a plan. I did have condoms though." He says brightly.

She shakes her head. "Congratulations!"

"Hey, they came in handy." He would appreciate a little credit.

"I'm not on the pill."

"I'm a Fulbright Scholar baby! I've worked that out for myself."

"I was advised against it after…"

He runs his finger up the scar on her leg. Remembers her being rushed to surgery struggling to breathe, a blockage in the artery to her lung. "Blood clots?"

"Yeah, and with all the travelling for the campaign it was a bad idea. Of course it wasn't like there was any sex after, so…"

He can see tears in her eyes. "Have you talked to someone about Gaza?"

"Not really. I know I should."

He closes his eyes. "I spoke to Stanley. I was a wreck after you left, and couldn't get it all straight in my head."

She moves up the couch and settles with her head on his chest his arms holding her close. There's more to discuss, but now they just need to hold one another.


"Yo-Yo Ma. I knew I loved you after I took you to the emergency room... I brought coffee to your apartment after Yo-Yo Ma because I was worried about you. You didn't see me, you'd just left. I saw the window. I told Leo."

He giggles. "Stanley's a fraud, he made out like he was psychic."

"I let myself in Josh. To your apartment. I saw the blood. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gone in, but I had to see."

"You brought me coffee?"

"Yes Josh."

"Thank you. For telling Leo."

"Josh. Did you break up my relationships deliberately."

"No" he's emphatic. "Not Jack. I tried really hard to keep my distance. He messed up Donna, I couldn't get him transferred if I had wanted."

"And…"

"The others weren't relationships Donna. I'm sorry, I didn't like it when you dated, and I didn't make it easy for you to date."

"And…"

"There's probably a good reason you could only get dates with Republicans. Most of the Democrats sensed to stay away, well the ones in the West Wing, and on the Hill."

"I should be really mad."

"Donna. Did you try to set me up with Joey Lucas because you didn't want people to know you liked me?"

She giggles. "You're not that astute Josh. Did she tell you that?"

"Yes."

"You started it Josh, I just encouraged it. She's nice. You wore your sexy suit for her Joshua."

"My regular, sexy Tuesday suit". He kisses her, pauses, "Amy?" he probably shouldn't be bringing her into this.

She's trying to regulate her tone, her breathing. "We aren't ever going to be friends Josh." Should she continue? "Amy crosses the line into antagonism too often. She's great at her job, passionate, but passion without compromise isn't enough. You were never good for one another. You got her fired twice, and she almost got you fired twice. She's not good for you, and she isn't good for us." She pauses "She asked me…"

"Asked you what."

"If I was in love with you."

"When."

"After the Vice President resigned."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing… Josh..." She's tensed up, apprehensive. "I was distancing myself before I left for Gaza. I had a long chat with CJ, it was a lockdown, we were locked in together, and we both said some things we regret. Things we would never have said if we'd been able to walk away. But what was said made me think. Made me realise how stupid it was to turn down jobs and eligible men because of a relationship that wasn't going to happen. I couldn't wait any more. Not when it had been said out loud. That's when it started."

He's silent. Breathing. Processing, Thinking. He starts quietly "I thought I could tell you how I felt in Germany. But it shouldn't have taken a bomb, nearly losing you, for me to admit it, to forget I was your boss. I couldn't forget I was your boss Donna, I had responsibilities, to you, to the president, we had responsibilities for one another, I sent you there." He pauses. "I can't unravel it Donna, even now I can't unpick it. I can't reconcile how I felt about you, how that fit in with our jobs. I just know I couldn't tell you. I know you couldn't tell me, and you shouldn't have had to wait for me."

He continues more hopeful "What we had wasn't healthy. Colin could see it. See through me. It hurt losing you, but that wasn't the end. It was the interlude. Can this be a new beginning?"

"We can't forget our past Josh. We have to accept it the good and the bad, and move on. There's plenty to love about our past. We were paid to spend all our time together. Nobody is that lucky."

"I wonder if I'd have tried to kiss you, if you'd danced with me."

"When?" she's confused.

"After the Illinois primary. You wouldn't dance with me. Instead you told me my dad died."

"I'm sorry Josh." She squeezes his hand. His dad and Leo were both lost on campaigns, she couldn't bear remembering his face.

"My mom wants us to visit, she can't believe it took me this long." He's stroking her wrist, distracting himself.

"Things always seem so much simpler when you're looking in. We got there in the end Josh, we just took the scenic route. You told your mom about us?"

"Yes."

"So. Does that mean there's an us?"

"Yes Donatella. It's what we both want, right?"

She smiles. "Yes Josh. I believe it's what we both want."

"Will you move in with me?"

The pause is killing him.

"Yes. On condition we discuss it to see if it's working in a few weeks. I love you Josh, and I don't want to ruin this by moving too fast."

He's laughing at her. She gets up. Haughtily. Clears their plates onto the trolley and calls housekeeping.

"I'm going for a walk, Joshua."

He bounces off the couch. "Can I come with you? Or would that be moving too fast?" He's teasing her. Bouncing around her, trying to get her to laugh with him. She's slathering herself in suntan lotion. When she's done she wipes her hands on his face. Smearing suntan lotion down his nose. He takes it as an invitation. He grabs his wallet and sunglasses and follows her out the door. She has her magic tote, he's never quite sure what's inside, but there's probably a wide brimmed hat and sunglasses. Maybe a bottle of water if she's not been too distracted by his antics.