Disclaimer: Fluff, fluff, and more fluff. All mistakes belong to the author. All characters from The West Wing belong to Aaron Sorkin and company.

Takes place a few months after the second inauguration.

CHAPTER 1

~Donna's POV~

"DONNA!"

That would be the oh-so lovely cry of my wonderfully annoying boss. I roll my eyes and quickly finish the last sentence of the memo I've spent the better part of the last hour writing for Josh's meeting with Congressman Whitley. Before I can type the last word...

"DONNATELLA MOSS... I BELIEVE I BECKONED YOU!"

Ugh, if I don't kill him before the end of the day (which for normal people, would have been 3 hours ago might I ad), it'll be a miracle. I take my time making my way the few feet from my desk in the bullpen to the door of Joshua Lyman's office. He's still looking down at something on his desk when I see him inhale deeply, preparing to yet again bellow my name.

"You rang Joshua?"

"Where have you been?"

"Just reading the gossip columns in the latest issue of People Magazine... What do you THINK I've been doing Josh? You said you needed that memo before your meeting with Congressman Whitley first thing tomorrow. So as much as I'd prefer to be sitting on my couch, indulging in some Ben & Jerry's and crappy reality television, I've been furthering my chances of developing carpal tunnel syndrome by getting your memo done. Did you know the instance of carpal tunnel increases to three times the average in jobs like mine?" I might have made up that statistic, but I made my point.

Josh's eyes don't leave the papers on his desk until I finish my diatribe. He scrunches his forehead and purses his mouth in that way that screams "I have no idea what you just said and I don't care".

"Whatever. Leo just called. I need to go out to Los Angeles to meet with the D triple C chairman in Southern California. Apparently they aren't happy with the way we handled Sam's campaign in Orange County and Leo needs me to placate them to ensure we have their support for the Midterms. Much to my dismay, we'll need that pompous asshat to do some heavy fundraising if we want a chance at the 5 house seats that are up for grabs."

"Oooookay... So I'm guessing you need me to set up your travel plans. When do you need to leave and how long do you need to be out there?"

How I so easily ignore Josh's udder disregard for my carpal tunnel concerns and jump back in to assistant savant mode is, of course, a testament to both my patience and ability to ignore Josh's idiosyncrasies. Maybe I should add these skills to my resume. You know, for the future. Can't work at the Bartlet White House forever. Silly Constitution and all.

Josh regains my attention when he replies, "Actually, I need to head out tomorrow morning. The chairman is holding a luncheon with some big players in the DCCC tomorrow and Leo wants me there for that. Kill, well... all the birds with one stone, so to speak." He has that self-satisfied, "Master Politician" smirk on his face. You know, the one that both infuriates me and makes me slightly weak in the knees? "I need you to give the memo for the meeting with Whitley to Toby. He's going to take my place there. Then if you could set up our travel plans, that should be it for the night".

Being the expert assistant that I am, I write all this down on my notepad to ensure everything is covered. What can I say? I'm thorough. "Okay. And I'll farm out any other meetings you had for tomorrow and through the weekend. Should I have you returning Sunday then?"

"Monday actually. You can have us returning Monday. I also need to do some schmoozing at the chairman's pool party on Sunday. So make sure to, you know, pack a swim suit or whatever one would wear to that sort of thing."

I stop writing and it takes me a second, but I'm pretty sure my boss just said that I would be joining him on his L.A. trip. This can't be. He never brings me on the trips to fun places. I look up at him and our eyes meet across his desk. He is smirking again. He can tell he caught me off guard. My face softens and though I'm usually quite adept at hiding any outward sign that I actually don't hate my boss, I'm pretty sure "oh you wonderful man" is written across my face. I mean, it's April and it's been a long winter. A long, cold, snowy winter. A few days in the sun sounds absolutely lovely right now. A few days in the sun with Josh sounds even better. Wait, I didn't just think that. Ignore that. I realize that we've been staring at each other a bit longer than is probably appropriate. Considering the late hour, the bullpen is empty and I'm sure no one noticed, but I look back down at my notepad and break the eye contact just in case. Yeah, because people catching us mesmerized by each other is the real problem. I'm so screwed.

"Josh, before I get too excited and just to clarify, do you mean to tell me I get to go on the trip too?! I mean, of course we both know you would find me valuable in Los Angeles, what with my great organizing skills and general likeability. I could keep you on track as well as use my feminine wiles to help calm the DCCC chairman and his cohorts and..."

"DONNA!" Josh interrupts me. "Feminine wiles?" He's smirking again. Ugh, he can be so adorable. ANNOYING! I meant to say annoying.

"You know what", he continues, "I'm going to be the bigger person here and forget that part. Yes, Leo suggested that you join me on the trip. Something about ensuring I don't stick my foot in my mouth so he doesn't have to put his up my ass... Toby would have a field day with the language in that statement. But yes, you will be joining me." I am smiling like a kid on Christmas morning right now. I can't help it. A few SUNNY days in Southern California. Yes, it's for work, but that's just details. I try to reign in my excitement.

"Well that just makes sense. You do have a tendency to put your foot in your mouth and get it royally stuck there."

"I do not!"

"Secret plan to fight inflation, Josh?"

"That was an anomaly!"

"Yeah, sure, okay", I reply as I straighten up a few of the piles he's created on his desk in the last hour.

"You know what, keep this up and I'll inform Leo that you're indispensible here at the office for the next few days."

"Will not."

"Why the hell wouldn't I?"

"Because then I would be forced to tell Margaret about your proclivity to becoming a ballerina."

"Margaret?! Might as well just send out a memo to the entire White House. And I was 4. I liked the word!"

"Okay twinkle toes." I love this. Banter is so our thing. "I'll take care of the memo and travel arrangements before I go home to pack." I turn and head back to my desk to plan our Californian vacation... I mean business trip. Shit...

~Josh's POV~

I don't think she's stopped smiling since I stressed that WE would be returning Monday. And to be perfectly honest; I probably haven't since the image of Donna in a swim suite entered my mind. (I need to remember to thank the chairman for having a pool party.) Plus, there's all the banter. We rock at banter.

I know I'm supposed to be reading the background on the California DCCC chairman right now, but I'm honestly too excited for a few days away, even if it is for work. The re-election was tiring and things haven't slowed down since. Not that they ever really do around here. I mean, this is the White House. Nevertheless, it will be nice to get out of the cold and in to some sun for a few days. I need to remember to call Sam and see if he's free for lunch or something. I would love to see him and I know Donna would too.

Donna. If I'm truly honest with myself, I probably would be loathing the idea of flying across the country to kiss up to a bunch of rich, Hollywood Democrats, but the fact that Donna will be with me brings a whole new light to the situation. Especially when I know I will be seeing Donna in some form of swimwear.

Easy Lyman. Those thoughts have been sneaking up more and more on me recently. And I'm becoming less and less interested in quelling them. As I'm contemplating the meaning of this revelation, Donna walks back in to my office and leans against the edge of my desk facing me, trusty notepad in hand.

"Okay, so I emailed Ginger about the meeting with Whitley so she can get Toby up to speed in the morning. I also placed copies of the memo on both her and Toby's desks. Everything else for the week has been farmed out. Our flights, hotel, and car service are booked and thanks to the time difference between DC and LA, I was able to get a hold of the chairman's assistant and had her fax me a copy of the itinerary the chairman had in mind. I told her I'd run it by you to confirm and send her an email before we catch our flight out of National in the morning."

I take the proffered itinerary from her hands and our fingers happen to graze each other. A strange, anticipatory sensation overcomes me. It's this feeling of warmth and calm but at the same time my heart is racing like when I wake up thinking I've overslept. And it takes me a minute to recover. I look up in to her eyes and if I'm not mistaken, I wasn't the only one who felt something there. I clear my throat and look down at the itinerary. I don't think I actually absorb any of it, but I really don't care right now. I look back up at Donna, finally able to steel my expression somewhat.

"Looks fine. What time is our flight?"

"8am. We land at LAX just after 10am California time. A car will pick us up there and take us to the hotel. That will give plenty of time to freshen up before the luncheon at 1. I'll be at your place at 5:30 tomorrow morning to pack your bag, so be up and ready."

"Donna, I have degrees from Harvard and Yale. I think I can pack my own suitcase."

"You really can't."

"Can too!"

"760 verbal Josh. Really? And last time you packed your own bag, you called me from Denver and insisted I overnight you boxers and a shaving kit to your hotel. I'd rather not have to make a run to the nearest Target when we get to California."

"You just like handling my undershorts," I shoot back. Hah! That shut her up! For a second at least.

"Joshua Lyman! I am not going to even give you the pleasure of a response to... I mean to suggest... UGH!"

"Oh come on Donna, it was a joke. And I've had to handle yours. Why shouldn't you handle mine? Reciprocity!" I finish that statement with a wink and more of the smirk. She can't handle the smirk. I think it's the dimples. The ladies love the dimples.

A smack to the back of my head quickly transforms the smirk in to a glare. Should have seen that coming. "Joshua! I thought we agreed to never speak of that again," she whispers. She can be so adorable, even when causing me bodily harm.

"Okay, okay. Just shut down and I'll walk you out." She gives me one last glare, then her face softens and she leaves me to gather my things. I grab my coat, stuff a few files I'll need for the trip in my backpack, and meet Donna at her desk. I hold up her coat, stand behind her, and help her in to it, smoothing it over her upper arms and letting my hands linger on her shoulders. I realize too late that that little maneuver did not go unnoticed by my striking blond assistant. She looks over her shoulder at me and our faces are so close, I can feel her breath mingling with mine. Her lips are like a magnet that I can't stop staring at. For a second, I forget where we are and why I'm holding back and think about moving my mouth ever so slightly toward hers just to see if she'd meet me halfway. Thankfully, she comes to her senses before I do and turns forward once again.

"Thanks", she says with a hint of a sigh.

"Yeah, sure." I don't have the mental capacity to cover with banter right now so I just hope that she hasn't been "in tune" to me as she normally for the last few moments.

We both snap out of whatever spell we are in and proceed to make our way through the West Wing and out to the parking lot in silence. I walk Donna to her car, which, might I add, is NOT on the way to mine. What can I say? I'm a gentleman. She unlocks her door and slides in to her car. For some reason, I discover that I am leaning against the open door preventing her from closing it. Pull it together Lyman! I back away slightly.

"Thanks Josh. You didn't have to walk me to my car."

"Donna, we have this conversation every night we work late. I'm not letting you walk to your car in the middle of the night by yourself. End of story."

"Josh, though I appreciate your chivalry, this is the White House parking lot. I have a feeling I'm safer here than most other places I could be walking in DC, what with the Secret Service and all." She says this sternly, but her grin doesn't lie. She enjoys our little walks at the end of the day.

"Donnatella, we both know your argument is futile. Accept my gentlemanly charms and move on," I reply. I mean, what kind of man would let the woman he lo-, I mean the woman who works for him and who also happens to be his friend walk to her car alone? At night? In the middle of a dangerous city? I think not. "I'll see you in the morning." I say as I close her door.

"I'll call to make sure you're up before I leave my place." That's my Donna. Always making sure I am on time.