A/N: Hey, everybody! I've got a new story for you. It's an AU I've been dying to write in again, ever since Nine Kinds of Pain.

I know you guys are waiting on an update for Prodigal Son, but I was having a bad week, and I wanted to write something happier. So here we are. I promise I'll get back to it ASAP.

This story is a companion to Nine Kinds of Pain, in which Josh and Donna are already married with a kid on the way pre-series. I'd highly recommend reading it for some of their backstory, though I may post those chapters here eventually.

Anyway, though this is set up to revolve around the semi-weekly dinners that Donna wrangles the West Wing staff into, that's mostly just a focal point. This story will be a catch-all for pretty much everything I think of in this AU (and trust me, I've thought of a lot), unless I decide there's something truly deserving of its own story.

Sound good? Great. Without further ado, here's my pilot.

Thanks for embarking with me, yet again.

Much love,

thatTWWgirl

(Rating: T

Reviews: Always!)

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The morning after her wedding, Donna is rudely awoken at six by the shrill buzzing of an alarm clock. Instead of shutting it off, she mumbles something that is incoherent to both her and her bedmate and shoves her boyfriend - or, husband, rather. He responds with something equally miffed and equally muffled, but nonetheless rolls away from her and hits the offending clock until it stops blaring.

Sunlight filters in weakly through the windows, as though it too is reluctant to be up at this hour. Donna blinks slowly, waiting for consciousness to wash over her in waves. Josh pulls her back toward him and wraps an arm around her before settling back into the pillows, displaying that he is no more eager to get to his first day on the job than she is. Her stomach is a little off, but she doesn't feel the urge to rush to the bathroom yet, which is good. Unfortunately, that probably means that she'll be making a few trips there later today, while she is simultaneously attempting to navigate her shiny new White House job.

The biggest wave of consciousness hits her while she is still blinking reluctantly, and something catches her eye in the feeble morning light. She's wearing a wedding ring.

Right. That actually happened.

After the initial shock dies down, she feels a warmth start in her chest and spread through her whole body. She reminds herself that the man currently holding her is the one she wants to spend the rest of her life with, and that as of last night, they'd committed themselves to do just that.

She remembers the exhilaration of last night, his elated smile that eclipsed any other she'd seen on him, even the one he'd worn when they won the election.

She'd always thought of elopements as messy, drunken affairs, but she'd made her decision sober. And she'd make it again a million times over.

"Did we really get married last night?" She asks, just to be sure.

Josh rouses himself enough to say "Hm. That was you, last night?"

"I'm afraid so."

She can feel his smile as he kisses her shoulder. "God knows what I was thinking."

"Same here." She wants to see him, so she turns over to face him. Awake now, he watches her with softly shining eyes. He rests a hand gently on the side of her face, with an expression like he is trying to contain his awe. He takes his time in leaning in to kiss her warmly.

"So, you're my wife." He says, brow furrowed almost dubiously.

"I guess I am."

"I have a wife."

"You do."

"That sounds so... Mature."

"You were getting a little old for girlfriends, don't you think?"

"A wife."

"How long are you going to keep on with this?"

"The Mrs."

"I'm not Mrs anything, actually."

"The 'ole ball and chain'."

"Well, unless you'd like to live without any balls, metaphorical or literal-"

"Right. Not gonna use that one."

"Good thinking."

"Hey, you know what?"

"What?"

"I've got something for you." He rolls away from her and practically off the bed, rooting around for something in the bottom drawer of his bedside table.

She smiles. "You've already given yourself over to me for eternity, what more could a girl want?"

He sits up, a black box in hand. Her heart skips a beat. He opens it and sets it close to her face for inspection, and she inhales sharply.

"Um." She sits up, taking the box into her hands and holding it up for a closer look. "Um. Wow."

"It's an engagement ring." He says, unnecessarily.

"Um." She repeats dumbly. "But, we were never engaged."

He grins, a little nervously. He has no idea what he's got to be nervous about, it's not like she's going to turn him down now. "You should still have it."

She doesn't look as thrilled as he'd hoped she would. "Why do you have this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Have you had it for a while?"

"You could say that." He says slowly, nonplussed.

She looks, if anything, a little ill. "Did you buy it for someone else?"

That's when he understands. "What? Oh, no, no, that's not-"

"I mean, if you did, that's fine, it's just-"

"Donna." He interrupts. "This ring has been in my family for, like, a century."

"It... What?"

"The ring has been around longer than I have. There are, um, some pretty great stories about it, actually." He reverts to his slight nervousness. "It was smuggled out of Nazi occupied Poland, in the 1930s. It was briefly lost in Lake Superior one time. It's, um. I always thought it'd be kinda weird to give someone a ring that your dead relatives have worn, but then when I met you, I thought it'd be the kind of thing you found interesting, so-"

"I do." She interrupts him eagerly, regretful for jumping to conclusions. "This is... Wow."

"But, if it helps, I asked my mother for it when we were in Connecticut last summer. That's when I knew I'd be, um... Needing it."

Her eyes brim with tears. He'd been grieving the loss of his father, and still, he'd thought to do this. She grabs his hand, wanting to express how touched she is, but all she can get out is, "Ruth must've been thrilled."

"God, like you wouldn't believe. It took everything she had not to say anything to you." He grins at the memory, and at the thought of calling his mother to share the good news.

"She's going to be one very happy woman later today."

"She is." He pauses, watching her. Her gaze hasn't left the ring box, her eyes wide and glittering. "So, you like it?"

"Are you kidding? I love it." She finally looks up at him, eyes still brimming. She leans in to kiss him once, fiercely. "I love you."

"I'm glad."

"It was really smuggled out of Poland during World War II?"

He can see her dorky enthusiasm creeping through, and he smiles with satisfaction. "I'm sure my mother can give you the full history on it."

She gives a happy little bounce that makes a laugh rise in his chest. "It's perfect."

"You're perfect."

She rolls her eyes, but looks pleased. "You know, it's strange. I always thought that when I was given an engagement ring-"

"You wouldn't be married yet?"

She shrugs. "Consider me old-fashioned."

He shakes his head. "So, you going to put it on or what?" He takes the ring out of the box, as she seems too awestruck to do so, and takes her hand in his. He slips the ring onto her finger, adorned just last night with a simple wedding band. "It's a little big." He says apologetically. "We can get it resized."

He makes to take it off, but she snatches her hand away from him. "Well, sure, but not right now."

He raises his eyebrows.

"I won't lose it! I just want to... Wear it, today."

"You're going to show it off, aren't you?"

"Possibly."

"And rail on about the historical significance to everyone who asks?"

"And probably those who don't, yes."

"I'm glad you like it."

"Love it." She corrects cheerfully.

He stretches out a hand to trail along her side, and brings it to rest on her waist almost reverently. Framed by soft morning light, she is naked and happy and impossibly freckled, and he is struck again by just how breathtaking she is. "Remind me again how I possibly got you to marry me."

"You knocked me up." She quips.

"Right."

She smiles indulgently, and shifts closer to him to rest her head on his chest. She kisses his collarbone. "And, I love you."

"That's the part I'm having trouble with."

"It's inexplicable."

He tilts her head back to kiss her more deeply than he had before, and she absolutely resents the fact that they have somewhere to be.

"So, this sucks, but we have to go to work."

"Fuck. You're right."

"I am."

"What idiot decided we should get married on Inauguration night?"

"You did."

"Well, it was stupid. We shouldn't have to go to work. We should be, I don't know, doing nothing but sleeping, having sex, and drinking champagne."

"I can't drink, anyway."

"Then the other two will do."

"Joshua. We both know you're excited to go to work today."

"Well, yeah."

"I am too."

"You're excited to spend the whole day with Toby?"

"Yes."

"There's probably going to be a lot of talk, today." He says dully.

"We'll be fine."

"Oh, God."

"What?"

He squeezes his eyes shut, and runs a hand over his forehead. "The President."

"What about him?"

"He's going to be told about the wedding this morning. If he wasn't already. And then he's going to sit me down, probably in the goddamn Oval Office, for a fatherly talk."

She grins. "This is going to be one hell of a day."

"It is."

"C'mon. Let's take a shower."

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"I've gotta tell you, sir, the sight of you behind that desk still gives me some type of feeling."

The President holds down a smile. "Leo, you had yesterday to adjust. Can we get some work done, now?"

"Of course, sir." Leo grins. "I'll round up the staff, they should all be in by now."

"Good, good." He shuffles through his papers to find the briefing memo for his next meeting. "Say, Leo?"

"Sir?"

"I meant to ask you last night, when you got back - but then, of course, you were with Jenny, and then I had to do some ceremonial thing, and then someone was toasting me, and-"

"Sir."

"The point being, I forgot to ask you." Jed admits. "I forgot to ask you where it was that you and, it seems, half my staff disappeared to last night."

Leo nods. He knew he'd have to address this at some point. He stalls. "It wasn't half your staff, sir. It was just me, Sam, Toby, CJ, Josh, and Donna."

"Well, that's more than half my staff!"

"You have a staff of hundreds, sir."

"Well it's more than half the names I remember."

Leo rolls his eyes. He steadies himself for what he says next. "Sir, what I'm about to tell you, I'd like you not to fly off the handle about."

The President furrows his brow. "Why would I fly off the handle?"

"Because, I know you'll either go into father figure mode, or you'll go into Catholic mode, or you'll go into wounded 'I wasn't invited' mode, so-"

"Leo." Jed interrupts. "Get to the point."

"We went to a wedding, last night."

"A wedding?" Jed repeats incredulously. "At midnight on a Tuesday?"

"An elopement."

"Leo..."

"Josh and Donna got hitched." He says bluntly.

"They..." Jed trails off. He rests his hands on his hips in a contemplative gesture, and stares in a detached manor at the seal on his carpet. "They did what?"

"Sir, the handle-"

"They got married?"

"I knew you would do this." Leo sighs.

"They got married?"

"Yes."

"Married." Jed repeats.

"Sir-"

"How old is she?"

"I don't know, sir. Twenty something."

"How old is he?"

"Jed-"

"How long have they been together?"

"Less than a year."

"And they got married?"

"I can't tell if you're being a father or a Catholic right now."

"I'm being both! Because I am both!"

"Ah, well-"

"Were they drunk?"

"They were totally sober."

"And the rest of you? You must've been drunk to let them go through with this?"

"We weren't drunk, either."

"Then for what possible reason could you have-"

"Sir." Leo interrupts firmly. "She's pregnant."

"She..." Jed's momentum comes to a sudden arboreal stop. "Oh."

"Sir." Leo says plaintively. "Please don't make this into a whole thing."

"Poor kids." Jed mutters distractedly.

"Sir?"

"Go get the staff together, Leo." Jed says, without looking at him.

"Sir, you're not going to sit him down for one of your talks, are you?"

Jed looks up at him sheepishly. "So what if I am?"

"He's got a lot going on right now, he doesn't need a lecture."

"I just think he could use a little fatherly advice, that's all." Jed defends, the weight of moral pretension behind him.

Leo chews this over. He obviously won't be able to dissuade him entirely. The war of the father figures wages on. "Fine. But you're not doing it here."

"Why not?"

"Because if you're going to have a talk with the very Catholic President of the United States, in concerned father mode, about how you knocked up your girlfriend, the last thing you want is to be doing it in the room where declarations of war are signed."

Jed considers this. "Can I use your office?"

"Fine."

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"That's all." Jed dismisses his staff.

"Thank you, sir." They chorus, all beaming goofily at the sight of their boss behind the resolute desk. No one is sure when the thrill will wear off.

"Josh?" Jed calls. His young staffer hesitates in the doorway. "Hang back for a minute."

There will be innumerable times in the future that the President says these very words to Josh with totally innocuous intent. He will then ask him about the progress on a bill, or how a certain freshman Senator is shaping up. But nonetheless, every time he hears these words, Josh will always remember this moment of total dread.

"Of course, sir."

"Come with me into Leo's office."

"Why?"

Jed raises an eyebrow. "Are you questioning your Commander in Chief?"

"Of course not, sir."

"Good." Jed opens the door to Leo's office without knocking, and Leo looks up at him in a very exasperated way. "Leo. Hello."

"I'd imagine you'd like me to clear out?"

"What? No! You can stay. We can double team him."

"I'm leaving." Leo says with vague amusement. On his way out, he claps Josh on the shoulder. "Hang in there, kid."

Josh looks like he very much needed these words of reassurance.

"Well, have a seat." Jed says warmly, and not a little off-puttingly.

"Okay." Josh hesitantly sits on the couch, watching as the President takes the chair closest to him.

Jed leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and giving Josh his best concerned smile. "I thought this would feel a little bit less like being called into the Principal's office."

"Sure." Josh says faintly, though he certainly feels something to that effect. He vaguely recalls his father calling him in to his study to discuss the fight he'd gotten into at school, a few months after Joanie had died. He feels eight years old again.

"I heard you got married last night." Jed begins, using his best 'I'm reserving judgment' tone. "Congratulations."

"Thank you, sir."

"I love that girl. Really, I do. She's good for you. She's an odd one, but I like her."

"Well. I do too." Josh acknowledges hesitantly. He feels somewhat like he's being lured into a trap.

"I wasn't sure it would stick, at first, but a few months in I think we all knew you were bound to tie the knot sometime."

"Right."

"Now, did I think you'd tie it last night? No. In fact, it was quite inconsiderate, stealing my thunder that way..."

He finally succeeds in getting Josh to smile. "I'm sorry about that, sir."

"And I wasn't even invited! Talk about rubbing salt in the wound."

"You seemed a little busy, sir."

Jed waves a hand. "Excuses!"

"You're right, sir. I'm sure you could've made the time."

"Damn straight." Jed says. He sobers himself and lets his expression fall to concern. "So, Leo told me about the baby, as well."

Josh's smile fades. "Yes, sir. I guess word's probably going to get around about that today."

"Don't worry about what people say." Jed says seriously. "It's not worth it."

Josh seems a little surprised by this. "Yes, sir."

"So. How are you feeling about it?"

"How am I... Feeling?" Josh echoes dubiously.

"Joshua." Jed pronounces his full name deliberately, knowing exactly how to make him feel young and lost. "I don't know what it is you thought I was going to say to you, but if it was anything along the lines of a scolding or a moral sermon, I'm deeply offended. Because never - and I want you to hear me when I say this - never will my own personal belief system color the way I think of you. And I would never want it to stop you from talking to me about your life, or your concerns."

Josh merely blinks, taken aback. "I... Yes, sir."

"Because I know this is strange to you. But your friends - the people you work with - they may know a lot of things, but they know nothing about what you are about to go through. And that is why I want to offer myself, and Abbey, as support. And I'm sure Leo won't mind my offering him, as well."

Josh tries to hide how touched he is by this. Because the truth is, he had been feeling horribly isolated for the past month. His closest friends were as close to having children as they were to winning the lottery, his own father had recently died, and he had no idea who to tell or what to say. He felt helpless. "I appreciate that, sir."

Jed smiles. "Now then. I'll ask you again: how are you feeling about fatherhood?"

"Sir, I'm terrified."

Jed laughs, because he certainly looks it. "As I thought. That's okay, it's perfectly natural. You've just become a member of the world's least exclusive club: the brotherhood of fatherhood."

"The brotherhood of fatherhood?"

"Yes. And I'll let you in on our biggest secret: none of us have any idea what the hell we're doing."

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"Abbey, my dearest, I have something to tell you."

"My dearest? Oh god, this should be good."

"I've got some hot gossip for you, hot pants."

"About who?"

"My staff. And it just so happens that this story is going to be a positive anecdote in proving that I'm right to meddle."

"Jed, you meddled? What did you do?"

"I would like to preface this by saying that you needn't meddle further."

"Who said I would meddle? I don't meddle."

"Not usually, but in this instance, I am sure that you'll want to."

"Why's that?"

"Because of your personal tendency to want to swoop in and mentor young mothers."

"Who's a young mother?"

"That tone! Right there! That's how I know you'll want to meddle!"

"So what if I will?"

"I'm saying I handled the situation, so we needn't attack it on two fronts."

"Jed, this is your first full day in office as leader of the free world. Don't you have better things to do than gossip about your staff?"

"Okay. Here it is. Josh and Donna got married last night."

"They what?"

"They eloped. Because she's pregnant."

"Oh my."

"Abbey, where are you going?"

"Nowhere, my dearest."

"Abbey, I told you, I've handled it-"

"You handled it in your masculine, boys club, 'everything will be okay, kid' way with Josh and then you just washed your hands of it, didn't you?"

"Well, I-"

"I'm attacking it on the other front, hot pants. Where does she work?"

"Communications. But I would appreciate it if you didn't distract my staff-"

"No, because you do a fine job of that all on your own."

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Abbey strides briskly into the communications office, and spies Donna sitting at her desk and chatting with a coworker. She knows by experience that the 'pregnancy glow' is a complete myth, and recognizes with sympathy the 'waxy pregnancy grayishness' that indicates that the sufferer has likely vomited in the past hour. She makes her way over, and as she does so, people begin to notice her presence and stand respectfully.

She stops in front of Donna's desk. "Donna Moss." She says cheerfully.

Donna looks up with wide eyes and springs out of her seat so quickly you'd think she'd been bitten by something. "Madame First Lady."

One of the things Abbey had always liked about Donna was that while most people generally fell onto calling her "Mrs. Bartlet" during the campaign, Donna had always taken care to say "Dr." She misses hearing that, now. "You don't need to stand, Donna, I'm not the President."

"That's okay, ma'am."

"Donna, would you care to come walk with me a minute?"

Her eyes widen again. "Of course, ma'am."

"And you can drop the ma'am."

"I really don't think I can, ma'am."

She follows her out of the office, the entire staff's eyes upon them. Abbey had thought she might not want to have this conversation in front of all her coworkers, but it's likely they already know. Gossip got around fast on the campaign, and there's no reason to think that the habit will have been kicked just because they have real offices now.

"I believe congratulations are in order."

It takes Donna a moment to realize what she's talking about. "Oh. Oh, thank you, ma'am, that's very kind."

She looks painfully young and scared in that moment. Not unlike the way Abbey had looked, only a few weeks after her own wedding night. "I thought a walk might help."

"I'm sorry?"

"With the morning sickness. Fresh air usually helps, but it's freezing, so I thought a walk would do. I know it seems like all you want to do is curl into a ball and moan, but trust me, this is better."

Donna looks floored by this. Her best efforts to hide her condition - ducking into the bathroom when no one was looking, and wearing a very loose sweater - had been for naught. She should've expected this - they'd told a handful of people last night, and it was only a matter of time before word got around. "Um, right."

"I hope you don't mind my bringing it up. Perhaps it isn't my place to know, but I thought it better to do something with the knowledge than pretend I don't have it."

"No, that's okay, ma'am. I'm sure the whole building will know by day's end." She says, a little bitterness creeping through.

"Are you worried about what people will say?"

"A little." Donna admits. "I mean, the way this looks... Well, the way this is..."

"Donna, I'd like you to remember something. The three men in the world who are least likely to keep someone around that they don't find valuable are Leo, Toby, and my husband. The three people responsible for keeping you around."

Donna fumbles for something to say. Somehow, she'd read the exact source of her anxiety - not that she'd be called a slut, or a whore, but that people might think she hadn't earned her place on the team. She fears being thought a charity case, or the beneficiary of nepotism, more than anything else.

"You deserve to be here." Abbey says earnestly.

Donna swallows. "Thank you, ma'am."

"And anyone who thinks otherwise doesn't deserve to be here."

Donna smiles. "That's very kind of you to say."

"Of course." Abbey says dismissively. "I came by because, well, I'm sure you must be going through a lot. And I wanted to offer myself as someone to talk to - or even just to sit and listen to you."

They reach a hallway with a bench, and Abbey sits down before gesturing for Donna to do the same. Secret Service agents at either end of the hall ensure their privacy.

"Ma'am, that's very generous of you, but I know how much you have to worry about already, and I can't see how my problems should merit any of your attention."

Abbey smiles. "Jed teases me about this. The way I always reach out to young mothers. But I can't help myself. It's not because I see you as a charity case, either. It's because I've been through something similar myself. And to not share what little wisdom I have seems wrong."

Donna hesitates.

"I became pregnant with Liz when I was twenty-one. I had a baby by twenty-two - which was the year I went off to med school."

"That must've been very hard for you, ma'am."

"It was." Abbey acknowledges. "But I'm not trying to make your situation seem easier by comparison. I just wanted to tell you that I came out the other side of it pretty well off. And I know that you will too."

Donna bites her lip. The First Lady's soothing tone is almost enough to make her start crying then and there. The only person she's had to reassure her in the past weeks is Josh - and, try as he might, he's floundering as much as she is.

She longs to call her own mother. At the same time, she dreads it.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"See that, right there? Just one of the many pearls of wisdom and reassurance I have to offer."

Donna gives a watery chuckle. "I'm sure."

"By the way, Jed's already gone and given Josh some long talk about fatherhood, which I'm sure involved whiskey and cigars and some sort of induction ceremony." Abbey jokes.

"That sounds right up Josh's alley." Donna says sarcastically.

Abbey laughs. "Geniuses, huh? Who knew they could be so stupid."

Donna grins. "Geniuses." She agrees.

"They're the hardest to live with, but the easiest to love." Abbey says sagely.

Donna nods. "That's the worst part of it."

"We should've married a couple of well-meaning idiots."

"That's funny, because that's usually how I describe Josh."

Abbey laughs again, a full laugh that somehow eases Donna's anxiety and nausea. "Fair enough." She settles back against the wall contentedly. "I like that you don't take any crap from him. You keep him grounded. That's what geniuses need, after all."

"And egoes."

"And god knows we married two of those." Abbey agrees fondly.

Donna settles back against the wall as well, remarkably more comfortable in the presence of the First Lady than she could've ever imagined herself being. There is an undeniable kinship - the secret sorority of take-no-shit women who were knocked up too young by world-class minds and universe-class egoes. Though, perhaps a shorter title would be necessary if they were to make t-shirts. "God knows." She echoes absently.

"Do your parents like Josh?"

"They've never met him." Donna admits, anxiety creeping back into the edges of her mind.

"Ah." Abbey says shortly. "Well, however that situation works itself out - and it will work itself out - you should know that there are quite a few people, right here in DC, who love and support you. My husband and I, for one. Leo, as I'm sure you know, has basically adopted Josh. CJ, and Sam Seaborn - hell, even Toby sings your praises. And Toby doesn't sing anyone's praises."

Donna grins. "Thank you, ma'am. That helps."

"What I'm trying to say is, it's true what people say. It takes a village."

"I'm starting to see that."

"Well, the more help you accept, the better."

"Right." In the many times she'd imagined herself as a mother, she'd never imagined accepting help from the First Family.

"I'd love for you two to have dinner with Jed and I in the residence, sometime soon."

"Dinner... With you and the President?"

"Sure. I'm pretty persuasive, but if we can't get Jed, I happen to have kept a couple cardboard cutouts from the campaign, so we'll have the next best thing."

"Ma'am, that's very kind, but-"

"Listen, we dine with heads of state some nights, but I'm sure you'll make for much better conversation. You and Jed can talk nineteenth century English literature, and Josh and I will try as hard as we possibly can not to look like idiots. It'll be fun."

"That does sound fun." She admits, though she knows it's likely impossible for Abbey to look like an idiot on any subject.

"So we'll make it happen. What do you like to eat?"

"Right now, pretty much nothing." She confesses.

"How far along are you?"

"Ten weeks, almost eleven."

"Ah. Well, trust me, in a few weeks you'll be eating pretty much everything."

"I can't wait." Donna says longingly.

Abbey chuckles. "So, we'll schedule in a few weeks."

"That sounds good."

"I'm glad."

"I'm having dinner with the President and the First Lady of the United States." Donna says numbly.

Abbey stands, and gives her a fond look. "That's how you make families happen, Donnatella. You sit people around a table, you talk, and you eat."

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"CJ, did I make a mistake?"

"What are you talking about, Joshua?"

"Getting married. Was that as stupid and impulsive as I think it was?"

"That depends. How stupid and impulsive do you think it was?"

"CJ-"

"Josh, you love her, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"And you want to spend the rest of your life with her?"

"I do."

"Okay, so. You're fine."

"But the thing is, I'm not so sure about her. If she feels the same."

"Josh, that girl is madly in love with you. God knows why, but she is."

"Yeah, but she doesn't know what she wants. She's young. She's flighty."

"Well, that wasn't condescending at all."

"I want you to remember that this is coming from a place of insecurity."

"So she's young. She's more mature than most of us are. I hardly notice her age anymore."

"But in a few years, don't you think she'll start to regret-"

"Will you stop it? She loves you, and she's not going anywhere. If you age well, good for you, and if you don't, she'll get really fat and call it even."

"I'm not sure she's capable of getting fat."

"Then she'll get an ugly haircut and start wearing khakis and lumpy sweaters. And socks and sandals. That's marriage. You balance each other out."

"But-"

"What she won't do is leave you. Because she loves you."

"I expected more sympathy from you."

"That's tough. Because, I'm sorry, but from where I'm sitting, you don't have any grounds to complain."

"I didn't mean-"

"As someone who's been chronically single for a year and half, is well into her thirties, and works a job that makes it impossible to meet people, I'm just finding it hard to dig up compassion for the guy who married a gorgeous blonde twentysomething that loves him and is having his baby. Sorry, but I'm just fresh out."

"...point taken."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go find and kiss my wife."

"I hate you."

"I understand."

"But, Josh?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm happy for you."

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"Toby, can I ask you something?"

"No."

"Toby, what's it like to be married?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm laying down on your couch."

"Who gave you permission to do that?"

"I'm pregnant. My feet hurt."

"Whatever. You may rest there, but we are not having any sort of deep discussion, is that understood?"

"Toby, what's it like to be married?"

"It's hell."

"Okay. Good talk."

"Donna, why would you ask me? You've gotta know how I feel about the whole thing. Are you looking for reasons to back out of this?"

"No. I just don't want to talk to anyone who will sugarcoat it. Or just congratulate me, or tell me how cute our kids will be. I want the truth."

"Donna, marriages aren't the same between people. They're highly different. So if you think yours will be anything like mine, you don't get it."

"So help me get it."

"I can't tell you what your marriage will be like. But I can tell you that, much as I hate to see anything good happen for Josh-"

"You're so full of it."

"He loves you. And you love him. And that won't always be enough, but it is for now. So enjoy it."

"...I'm not sure I can, now."

"People always say the first year of marriage is the hardest. But the first year of my marriage was great. It wasn't until year two that we hit the breaking point."

"Toby, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you."

"It's really okay, Donna."

"I should get back to work."

"Probably."

"Thanks for talking to me."

"I think you'll make it, Donna. It won't always be easy, in fact it hardly ever will be. But you're the kind of person who likes a challenge, and makes the hard stuff look easy. I think you'll make it, Donna. And we both know I'm no optimist."

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Josh is returning to his office from his search, when his girlfriend - or, wife, rather - appears, smiling brightly.

"Hey."

"Hey, I was just looking for you. You weren't at your desk."

"I was in Toby's office."

The intent of his search, to find her and kiss her, is spoiled when she lunges at him and does this for herself. Because she's mindful of where they are, she breaks the kiss before he would've, but allows herself to stay in his arms, eyes glowing.

"We're married." She says delightedly.

"We are." He confirms.

"We're married."

"You're having a moment, aren't you?"

"You're my husband."

"This is finally dawning on you?"

"Yeah."

"Well, at least you're smiling, and not dry heaving."

"Ugh, don't remind me of that." She grimaces.

"Sorry." He kisses the pout off her face, and is pleased when she giggles. He notices over her shoulder that his assistant is scurrying back to her desk, concealing a smile. "Hey, Addie!"

"Yes?" She looks up at them fondly.

"Have you met my wife?"

"Josh, I've met Donna countless times."

"Well, sure, but this is my wife, Donna."

Addie shakes her head in amusement. "Congratulations, by the way, you guys."

"Thank you."

"Should I be sending a wedding gift?"

"Oh god, no. We didn't even have a wedding. And, save your money for the baby shower. We don't need a blender, we need a stroller." Donna says, trying not to let the mental list of other things they need overwhelm her.

"Got it."

"So, Josh, I've had an idea." Donna says, and takes a step away from him to show how serious she is.

"Okay. Hit me."

"We're having dinner."

"...Wow, that's novel, Donna."

She scowls. "I mean, we're going to have a dinner. We're going to make food, and invite people over. Toby, Sam, CJ, Leo. Margaret, ooh, and Bonnie and Ginger! And Addie, if she'll come."

"Um, why are we doing this?"

"It's what grown ups do. Full-fledged, committed, soon-to-be-parents grown ups."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Why do grown ups do this?"

"Because. That's how families are made." And as much as she's excited to start her own little family, she wants another family for herself. With these people.

She wants Toby to feel more welcome in their home than he'd ever been in the one he shared with Andi. She wants CJ to keep her posted on her dating trials and travails, even if she can't relate. She wants Leo to feel close to the son he'd supposedly adopted.

The First Lady was right. She's going to be fine, no matter her family situation back in Wisconsin. She's going to make her own family, right here in DC - and she'll do it just the way Abbey told her. By sitting them at a table, talking, and eating.

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Isn't Donna the cutest? Next chapter we'll see her put her plan into action, with a few hiccups (as to be expected).

Anyway, what do you think? Let me know! And look out for a Prodigal Son update later this week!