W.W. –Thursday morning

Donna woke, briefly, to the feeling of Josh getting out of bed. It was morning, and she had slept soundly. She felt rested, and restless, and anxious to start the day. She waited for a few minutes for Josh to come back to bed. They had cuddled on and off through the night, but this was now two nights they'd slept together, without actually sleeping together. Before anything more happened, she knew they had a certain responsibility to talk some things over.

When he didn't immediately return, she frowned and rolled over. He'd taken his cell phone off the dresser, but all his clothes were still here except for the sweatpants she'd laid over his chair before going to bed. She guessed he was making some calls and was letting her sleep in. She debated whether to wait for him or to get up and go looking for him. While pondering her options she stretched and arched her back, and she had fallen back to sleep before she unwound from stretching.

W.W.

Josh sipped a cup of coffee and looked at the paper. They had sent up the Post and the local paper, and he was indulging himself by reading the sports pages first, something he usually only did at Christmas, Thanksgiving and on Mets' World Series days. There was a knock at the door, and he imagined it was a runner from the front desk with his requested New York Times.

Running a hand through his wild hair, mashing it more or less flat down the back, he opened the door, the local sports page still in his hand.

"Yes?" he said, opening the door. He stopped, looking at the woman standing in the doorway.

She looked him up and down, noting for future reference his scruffy socks and baggy sweatpants. Her eyes moved up to his stubbly chin, past his eyes, wide with shock, to his hair.

Without saying a word, she reached out, and ran her hand across the hair sticking up over his left ear. She leaned forward, and holding his head with her right hand, she reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek.

He stood aside, still speechless, as she came into the room. She looked with unconcealed interest at the lovely suite and the riot of newspaper and legal pads on the big table. She walked slowly into the room, and turned to look at him.

"Close your mouth, Josh. And the door, as well." Her voice assumed assent and she waited next to a chair, with one eyebrow raised.

He shook himself like a dog coming out of the water, and closed the door. He then hurried over and pulled out the chair for her. He made sure his mouth was closed and was trying to think of what he could possibly say to this woman. His mind flashed quickly to Donna, sleeping half naked about fifteen feet from where he was standing.

"So," the woman said, settling in to the chair and looking at him critically, "You have nothing to say to me?"

"Um, hi, Mom?"

W.W.

Donna stood, bent at the waist almost double, her hands palm down on the floor, her hair falling all around her. It was a yoga form, part of her morning stretching, and about the only thing she retained from one semester as a drama major at UW-Madison. She grinned, imagining what it would do to Josh if he came in right then. Maybe it was time to go looking for him.

W.W.

"So, you call, you tell me you are coming to Florida and will be here for days," Josh's mother complained, "but I shouldn't expect you to make it down to West Palm. Did you think my little boy would be this close and I would sit at home, looking at pictures from last year perhaps?"

"Mom, it's great to see you but-" Josh began, then sat across from her and looked at her in a mixture of confusion and concern, "but, how did you get here?"

"Mr. Maxwell, from across the alley, has a new Chrysler. Always up at the crack of dawn, putting on wax or whatever men do with cars. Every night, he puts on a cover after rubbing it with a cloth. 'Come for a ride with me, Ruth,' he always says. So this time, he tells me 'Come for a ride with me, Ruth.' And I went into the house."

She smiled. "I get my little green bag, the one your father used to carry when he went to Chicago. I get my little green bag and I come out to Mr. Maxwell. 'Avi,' I tell him, 'get your keys, we're going for a ride.' We drove up, and he brought me here."

Josh shook his head. "Mom, it's like, a three hour drive from West Palm Beach. What time did you leave?"

"We left yesterday afternoon. I don't like riding in cars at night, Josh. You know this."

"Yesterday? Where did you sleep?" His eyes narrowed. "Where's Mr. Maxwell now?"

"We stayed at the Hyatt. It's a perfectly nice hotel, not so fancy as this, but Avi is on a fixed income too. He's retired from a company, something with computers."

Josh was shaking his head, and slumped forward to put his head in his hands. "You drove up here with some snowbird gigolo and stayed at the Hyatt?"

She reached over and smacked the back of his hands with a section of the Post.

"You show some respect, Joshua. Avi Maxwell is a perfect gentleman, not that you would ever know. Do you call? Do you come see me? Who takes me to the Swan Court buffet for my birthday? Avi Maxwell, thank you. And to Temple on the bus, him with his Chrysler, but he rides the bus, because I like the bus."

She looked around. "Now, where is your Donna? I brought her a little something, down in the car. They have her staying in this place too? Or did you put her in some cheap hotel while you lie around here?" She was giving him a dangerous look.

"Yeah, Mom, they put her at the Hyatt," he told her with a grin, and they both started laughing.

Behind her, Josh saw the door to his bedroom open, and tried to keep his face calm as the door swung wide. He never did have a poker face. Ruth Lyman turned to see Donna Moss standing in the open door of her son's bedroom.

W.W.

Donna stood in the doorway, admiring the way Josh looked at her with a combination of fear, desire and worry. He really was a very sweet man.

"Donna," he said, his voice rising dangerously towards breaking, "you remember my…"

"Mrs. Lyman!" Donna enthused, gathering her robe about her and running across the suite to kneel by Josh's mother. She had heard voices and, improvising with what was at hand, had splashed some water on her face, put on a big terry robe and wrapped her hair turban-fashion in a big towel. She looked scrubbed and fresh, like she'd just stepped out of a spa.

"Donnatella," Ruth said, rising slowly and leaning a bit on the table. "I've told you dear, you really must call me Ruth." They embraced and did that air kissing thing women did.

"It's such a nice surprise to see you," Donna told her. "Josh didn't say anything about you being here this trip. Have you eaten? Can I get you anything?"

Josh, who had been closing the door to the bedroom that still contained his suitcase and nothing of Donna's but a Minnie Mouse hat, turned and called back to them.

"Ask her if her boyfriend wants anything too."

"Joshua!" said both Ruth and Donna together, in identical exasperated tones. They looked at each other, and Donna blushed while Ruth smiled.

"I have a gentleman friend making reservations for breakfast. Can you join us, dear, or does my son the slave driver have you chained to a computer this whole trip?"

"I'd love to join you, if it's not any trouble. You can tell me all the embarrassing stories we didn't cover when you were in Washington. Will you excuse me while I make myself fit for company?" Donna threw Josh a look filled with gleeful venom.

Donna excused herself and retreated into to Josh's bedroom, wondering how they were going to manage getting her and Josh both dressed without giving up the pretense of staying in separate rooms.

Josh managed to convince his mother to meet them down stairs, which was good since he couldn't exactly excuse himself to go in to 'Donna's' room for clothes. As he walked his mom to the door, she looked at the closed bedroom door and grabbed Josh by the ear, pulling his head down so his ear was at her mouth's level.

"Joshua Lyman, do you love this girl?" Her voice was strictly no nonsense, and she was ready, he knew, to pinch the hell out of him if she even suspected he was lying.

"Ow, err. Ah," he grumbled. "Yes. Yes!" She released him and he sprang back up, rubbing his ear. "How did you know?"

"Oh, my little Josh," she laughed softly, almost sadly. "A mother knows. Besides, since when does a woman come out of a shower with wet hair and dry feet? I'll tell Avi to pull around the Chrysler. You be nice to Mr. Maxwell, and don't give him the attitude."

"Yes, Mom," he said dutifully.

"Such a good boy," she said with a sudden grin. "See you downstairs."

The door closed behind her, and he slumped for a moment against it, letting the cool wood press against his forehead.

"Donna!"

W.W.

Margaret dialed the number with some regret, but she had her instructions. Donna's voice when she answered was so bubbly that Margaret wondered exactly how nice the Florida trip had been so far.

"Josh Lyman," Donna practically sang.

"Hey Donna, how's the trip?" It was worth a moment of small talk at the risk of making Leo impatient.

"Oh, the usual- a few meetings, a trip to Disney World with actual rides and shows, and not one emergency call. I'm just about to sit down to a late breakfast with Josh, his mother and her friend. How is life inside the Beltway?"

"Drizzly and gray. He introduced you to his mother?" Margaret sat down and leaned forward in full gossip mode. "I mean, without having been shot recently?"

"Margaret!" Leo's yell found her with the precision of a GPS-guided smart bomb. She went to her game face.

"Please hold for the Chief of Staff." She said formally and parked the call before Donna had even responded.

In Washington, Leo was glaring at the wall separating him from his assistant, just radiating his displeasure and knowing it would find her thorough the wall. He punched the button and picked up the phone.

In Orlando, Donna was handing the phone to Josh, figuring Leo was mad enough without being asked to hold for his Deputy Chief of Staff.

"It's Leo. This thing with the TV, it's gonna break tomorrow. We'd hoped to push it to the weekend but they want to run promos starting on tomorrow's morning shows. But there's another thing, a new thing. I hate to ask you to do this, but I need you to fly up this afternoon. You'll meet with the President and then get back down there late tonight so you're away when the stories break on the TV tomorrow. Got it?"

"No problem, Leo," Josh said, with a confident wink to his mother. 'Who's da man? I'm da man!' the wink said.

"Josh?" Leo looked at the phone, scowling.

"Leo?"

"Josh!" Leo looked in the direction of his assistant again with annoyance. Margaret was slinking lower and lower in her seat, fully aware from the tone of voice coming through Leo's door that something was awry. "What are you doing on this call?"

"You called me," Josh said in some confusion, looking at Donna and making frantic and vaguely threatening gestures. Something was indeed awry, and he hoped uncharitably that it was her fault.

"Josh, I need to talk to Donna," Leo said shortly.

"What would you want Donna for?" Josh said, and he could almost watch the words coming out of his mouth and hanging in the air, just being wrong. He winced preemptively.

His mom reached over and pinched his arm, hissing, "With her sitting right there, you schlemiel! This is how we raised you? To act this way to the girl you love? Where did you leave your manners?" Her fingers were pecking and pinching at him, punctuating every phrase.

"Mom, Ow, Mom!" Josh whined, rubbing his hand over the spots she'd pinched.

"Ruth?" Leo asked confused. "Josh, is that Ruth?"

"Yeah, Leo, we were just getting ready to have a bite to eat. So what's this thing that you need Donna for?" He eyed his mom carefully, and then mouthed 'sorry' to Donna, which shocked Donna more than the call from Leo had done.

"It's a thing, the President wants her here right away, and we need it done before NBC drops the biopic story. Tell her to call Margaret from the car, we're putting her on a plane."

"I'll reschedule Lieber and we'll be back this afternoon, sir."

"No, the President was pretty specific. I need you to stay out of DC till at least Sunday, and I need Donnatella Moss in the Oval Office in five hours. Now get her moving. Oh, and give my love to your mom." He hung up.

Josh looked at the phone, and slowly closed it. He handed it to Donna, and turned to Avi Maxwell.

"Mr. Maxwell, I hate to do this, but would you mind taking my mother back to the hotel after you eat? I need to put Donna on a plane."

"Is something wrong, Josh?" Donna asked, trying to communicate to him that she was dying to know what was going on without having to pry it out of him in front of his mother.

"The President wants to see you, and not me, in the Oval Office before dinner, and I am not to leave here till you come back." He was glowering. She could tell he was going to have a moody day till he had her back and had pumped her for every last detail of her meeting.

"Am I in trouble?" She looked at Ruth in what she hoped was a reassuring way. "I mean, not that I would be, or anything, or that there was anything to be worried about at all."

"No, everything's fine," Josh lied badly. "Oh, and Mom? Leo McGarry sends his love."

As Josh and Donna excused themselves for a quick dash back to the room to get her ready for her flight, they left Ruth to explain to a melancholy Avi Maxwell that Leo McGarry was an old friend of her late husband Noah. It certainly killed the mood of what had been a festive breakfast.

As they rode the elevator up to the room, Josh and Donna were both lost in thought.

"Did the President hear something somehow?" Josh finally wondered quietly. "If anything happens, blame me. It's all my fault, at least till I can get back and get things straightened out."

"My fallback position is always to blame you, Josh," she said with utter sincerity. "I just can't believe it, I can't get my mind around it."

"Don't worry," he told her, taking her hand. "There could be all sorts of things the President wants to talk about. Not that I can think of any, but hey, I'm sure they're out there, you know… out there. Somewhere." His face was bleak.

"Oh, not that. I haven't even started worrying about that yet," she dismissed a command appearance with her boss' boss' boss, the President of the United States, the Commander in Chief, the Leader of the Free World, Nobel Laureate Josiah Bartlet, dismissed it with an impatient wave of her free hand.

"Then what are you talking about?" Josh said looking at her as she squeezed his hand hard in hers.

"You told your mom that you love me," she said in awe and wonder.