I see him walking down the dimly lit hallway but I close the door. I'm not sure I can stand another tense meeting between the two of us. The tension seems to have thickened but it's not comfortable and exhilarating anymore. It's painful. It's… I look through the peep hole of the door and I see that he's standing there looking back at me. I duck out of the tiny beam of light. Is it possible that he can see me? I feel like he's looking right into my eyes.

I walk over to the bed, turn and fall backwards onto the rock hard hotel mattress. I'm depressed by the idea of spending the next year on mattresses of varying state of impossible hardness. The campaign can't waste money on better rooms though. We still have too far to go.

I lay in bed staring up at the dank popcorn ceiling. I feel anger so intense that it ripples through my body. "Damn you Josh Lyman" I say to no one. Ever since the attack, since Germany, things have been different. It was the moment when the gleam in his eyes went from lust to something else. We both saw it and I was too drugged to hide it anymore. It was like opening the proverbial can of worms. No going back. What else could I do but quit? It only made matters worse that he wouldn't even do me the decency of sitting down for a lunch. We could have done it the right way. I could have made him understand. But no. Something is always more important in the world of Joshua Lyman. I just thought that after 8 years of working for him, I would have ranked somewhere in the top 50 on his priority list.

I roll to my side and look at the red diodes of cheap Holiday Inn clock. The numbers cast an unwelcome glow around the room. It's already 1:15. I have to get up in 4 and a half hours. That thought suddenly makes my heart race. I know I'm already in for a rough day tomorrow. Lack of sleep will surely intensify the anxiety. Don't get my wrong. I'm happy to be working on a campaign for the Democratic front runner and Will is a great guy. It's just that working for him is different than working for… I go back to staring at the ceiling. This isn't a thought I want to be having right now. Or really ever, truth be told. Maybe he won't follow us to the next city. Maybe we won't be trapped across the hallway like this and I'll be able to get some sleep.

It's so cold in this good for nothing room. I feel the anger mix with shivers. The heater is making a faint sputtering noise. I'm not even sure it's working at all. "Great" I think to myself, "I'll just freeze to death." I'm torn between the ideas of getting out of the bed to look at the state of the contraption or staying under the covers I've already gotten semi warm. It's not like I'd know what to do with the heater anyway. I turn over to my other side and curl into a tiny ball under the blankets, gathering as much body heat as I can muster.

My mind wanders again. I imagine I can see through the walls and into his room. I imagine it's the mirror image of this one. I do a quick mental calculation of how far apart we are. I can't imagine it being more than 20 feet, unless he's lying on the other side of the bed.

But I know exactly where he's lying. Always the right side, just like me. I know because of all the times I visited him in bed after Roslyn. I wonder how a man who spends most of his life as a bachelor can grow accustomed to sleeping only on one side of the bed. I suppose the same could be said for me. I think back to the months after I learned his sleeping habits. I spent dozens of nights trying out the other side of the bed… imagining I'd ever get the chance… have the opportunity to need to switch. Then, shamefully, I went back to my normal routine. I wouldn't ever want anyone to know about that.

I look at the clock again. 1:47. "Donna you must sleep" I tell myself angrily. But the anger matches up with the other anger and serves only to make me tenser. I never have trouble falling asleep… until recently. But I'm sure it's just the campaign. Actually I'm not sure of that at all.

Suddenly, I hear a faint tapping. I sit bolt upright in the bed gathering the covers in my lap. Immediately, I feel a chill surround my body. It sounds like someone is at my door. I reach for my cell phone. Surely if someone needed me they would have just called or would at least be knocking louder.

"Donna?" I hear a voice accompany the faint knocking. "Are you awake?"

Oh my God it's him.

I lay back in the bed, uncertain of what to do. I know it would be easy enough to pretend I'm asleep. Normal people are asleep at this hour.

Suddenly the tapping stops and without thought I leap out of the bed, dragging the meager blankets behind me like a cape. I look through the peep hole and for a second time tonight I see Josh staring right at me through the door. But he turns his head and begins his assault of the electronic door lock. I open the door to find him jamming the key into the lock, too fast, always too fast. He nearly jumps out of his socks when he sees me.

"Donna" he splutters, "Did I wake you?"

"No" I tell him, shaking my head wearily. "Is there something wrong?"

He takes the 3 steps back across the hall to stand in front of my doorway. "I just…" he begins but I can tell he's at a loss for words and I know what a rarity it is to find Josh Lyman in a state of speechlessness.

"Do you want to come in?" I ask as I retreat back into the room leaving the door open for him to follow. This isn't exactly what I imagined all the times I imagined letting Josh into my apartment late at night.

"I'm sorry to bother you." He tells me.

I just give him a look. I don't really have anything to say to him. It's not like I've never been awakened by Josh late at night to come into work.

I don't work for him anymore.

"Look Josh, I wasn't sleeping but I'd like to be."

"Donna, I can't stand this."

We both pause to reflect on the dynamic between our two statements. I feel the familiar anxiety course through my body. "Josh…"

"Can I please just… say what I need to say?" His voice cracks. I wonder for only the second time in our history together if he's been crying. "Donna I'm sorry. I know that I hurt you. I should have listened to you when you needed to talk. I should never have cancelled those lunches. I… I" he stammered, "I took you for granted."

I can't say anything. He is simultaneously clueless and brilliant.

"Josh I didn't leave because of the lunch."

"I know, you kept saying that, but I just don't understand. Everything was fine between us, wasn't it?"

I sigh heavily, a little dramatically and I move to the bed. The covers are still tightly around my body. I sit down on the corner and wrap my legs underneath me. He seems uncertain but joins me on the other edge of the bed.

"I don't think I understand then, Donna."

To any ordinary person, an admission of not understand would simply make them human, a statement like that from Josh made him humble too. I'm not sure what to say in response. I look down at my grey socks before looking back at him.

"I'm not sure I can explain it either, Josh."

"Something changed… in Germany… between us."

I nod my head in agreement. Turns out he really does understand. He reaches out across the bed and his finger touches my hand. Brushes it so lightly it's amazing that I can feel it, but I can. It feels electric. Suddenly I'm not cold anymore.

"I can't do this Josh, not now, not when I have to get up in," I glance at the clock in horror, "three hours."

Josh shakes his head sadly and rises from the corner of the bed. I am overwhelmed with a sense of not wanting him to go.

"Josh, I…" I have no idea how to say this. I look up to the now familiar popcorn ceiling and try in vain to keep the tears from leaking out of my eyes. Then the words feel like they are going to suffocate me if I don't say them. "I…" my throat constricts, "I care about you."

Josh stops cold in his tracks. When he turns his head he looks me so straight in the eyes I'm suddenly very aware that I'm only wearing my pajamas. I see that something again. It isn't lust anymore. It's the same thing I imagine him seeing in my own eyes.

My throat isn't as tight as it was before. I feel like I can talk again. Maybe.

"I knew we couldn't go back to the way things were. I know we won't ever be able to. I thought I'd come up with the perfect solution, by quitting. But I realized that everything is different when I'm not around you."

Josh is speechless again. I make a mental note to tell CJ about this someday. She'll be shocked. I wonder if I'll be laughing or crying when I tell her the story.

"I couldn't be your assistant anymore. You couldn't be my boss."

I realize how cryptic this message is but I'm not going to say anymore than that. It would open up a vulnerability I'm not ready to ever face. This is bad enough. I go back to staring at my grey socks. I can't look at his eyes anymore. I can't look at any part of him.

He needs to say something.

But he doesn't say anything. He moves instead, so he is close to me, closer than I can honestly say we've ever sat next to each other before. I feel a new sort of pulsing race through my body but it isn't anger. He gently takes my chin in his hand and moves my head so I'm looking at him.

And then he kisses me.

It's unlike anything I've ever felt before in my life. He breaks apart suddenly, searching my face for permission to continue but I return my lips to his, not waiting for him to read signs. Turns out he did read my cryptic message after all. When did he start understanding women? But all thoughts of Josh's newly learned talent are gone as we continue to kiss. It feels like someone has poured a warm liquid form of euphoria all over my body. I push the covers off my shoulders and Josh takes this cue to move his hands from my face to other parts of my body. That's the moment I know that tonight will be more like my fantasies than reality has ever been.

His hand roams underneath my shirt and he masterfully strokes my breasts until I can't help but moan. I feel the pace becoming faster, more frantic. I pull at his shirt and it's hard to get it over his head. Our lips can hardly stand to break contact for longer than a few seconds. I tentatively stick my hand beneath the elastic of his boxer shorts. I'm struck by how different it is to do this with Josh then the other men I've slept with. I feel like I'm in high school again, losing my virginity. I think back and know that Josh is the first person where the "who" mattered more than the act itself.

His hand tugs at my own boxer shorts to the warm space between my legs. He touches me and a surge of intrepid desire flows so strongly through my body I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming.

"Oh. My God." I pant. "I… can't wait… any longer."

Josh takes a split second to remove the last of his clothing and I do the same. He begins kissing me again and this time I feel him enter me. Together we moan. It feels like the earth is shaking but I know it's really just the effect of having a part of him inside of me. Then, just like the pace of the whole evening, things become more frantic. We have both reached the point where not screaming is not an option. He thrusts again and again and I can feel the blood rushing out of my head. I'm seconds away and so is he.

Then, the explosion, so intense that I can see lights before my eyes. Josh whimpers and moans, his face is contorted into a brilliant array of ecstasy and emotion. He collapses on the bed next to me and now we're both staring up at the ceiling, our minds temporarily empty. The sound of our gasps for breath fills the room. The first thoughts that return to my head are that I've been missing out for a long time. That this is the way sex is supposed to be.

Josh is still quiet. I think he's still in the state of thoughtlessness.

"Donna," he says, still gasping, "That was… the most… amazing…" He turns his head and smiles his terrific grin which I return in kind.

Minutes pass and our breathing becomes regular again. "Is there anything you need, something I can get you?" He asks me.

"No, I'm terrific." I reply, for the first time in a long time knowing that that statement is true.

"That's good because honestly, I'm not sure I can walk." He laughs.

I glance at the clock. It's 3:23am. I don't care anymore though. The thought of tonight will keep me going for weeks and months to come. I don't need sleep anymore. Just my warm cozy bed, and Josh by my side.