W.W. –Saturday morning

"Donna!"

She looked herself over in the mirror. Her hair was still damp, but her makeup was on and she looked reasonably presentable. She looked at the fine shadings of color where a certain rather amorous DCOS had been marking his territory earlier.

"Donna?" At least he was varying the shouting.

She ducked her head out and saw him sprawled across the bed. He still wasn't dressed, but he had brushed his hair and brought the papers in and divided them into 'hers, mine and ours' stacks.

"Honestly, Josh, what do you want? You're yelling like this was the West Wing."

He flashed her a grin, and looked admiringly at the open robe that she wore.

"I missed you." He patted the bed. "Come back to bed. I'll order breakfast."

She laughed. "Missed me? It's too late for breakfast, mostly because you wouldn't let me out of bed at a reasonable hour. What on earth happened to my lovable workaholic Josh?"

She came back towards him, and he pulled her down onto the bed into the middle of the newspapers. She laughed, and he started kissing her on the tip of her nose and along her eyebrows. She pushed him off of her and looked at him, holding him at arms' length.

"You, sir, are a bad man. I was promised breakfast, oh, hours ago, and now it's too late for breakfast."

He rolled over on top of her. She loved the way he looked down at her, like she was the whole world and he was trying in vain to take her all in at once with his eyes.

"Tell me again why we didn't do this years ago?" she teased him.

"Because you weren't ready," he answered without hesitation.

"What?" She tried to push him off of her, and when he didn't immediately respond she heaved him to one side and sat up. "I wasn't ready? I wasn't ready?" It sounded just as bad no matter how she accented the line. "And how the hell do you figure that?"

"Donna," he started, reaching for her. Then, seeing how upset she was, he sat up and let her see his unguarded honest-face. "Donnatella Moss, do you believe I love you?'

"Yes, but-" she said and he held up a hand to her lips. "Yes," she said softly against his fingers.

"Okay, do you believe that you are valuable to me, both personally and professionally?"

"Yes." She made no move to continue, but he kept his fingertips against her lips. She thought he'd forgotten why they were there and he was just enjoying the feeling. She was, too, actually.

"And do you further believe that you are a smart, successful and capable woman, worthy of responsibility and trust? I ask you to recall that you have recently earned, not merely been given but earned, a college degree and a Presidential appointment. So, you acknowledge that you are a professional political operative with both status and influence?"

"Apparently."

"Well, I imagine if we had done this before, oh, any time really, that I'd be spending the next 30 years convincing you that you really were amazing and worthwhile and special, and you'd always be wondering if I was saying that to justify why I was sleeping with you." He looked a little serious, and very solemn. It was kind of eerie.

"Josh?" He took his hand away from her lips. "You're forgetting something."

"What's that?" He was puzzled.

"If those things weren't true, if I was just some politically savvy hussy who could bring the banter and fill out an evening gown, you would still have slept with me. So you'd be trying to convince yourself too."

He rolled back and stared up at the ceiling. "I'd never have slept with you before, Donna. I mean, I noticed you, I won't pretend I never thought about it, but I wouldn't have done anything. Not till now, not till it was a way to move on to the next part of our lives."

"Why not? I mean you know I love you, and I'll never say anything about this again if you don't want me to, but honestly, Josh, Mandy? And Amy? And still more Amy? If I still have any doubts it was because I've seen your taste in women."

"You seemed to like Joey Lucas," he said, still examining the ceiling. He didn't seem ready to look her in the eye yet.

"No, you seemed to like Joey Lucas and I wanted you to be happy."

"I'm happy now," he said.

"Really? Even knowing that when we get back, it's going to be tough trying to go back to the way things were?" She couldn't keep the sad tone out of her voice completely, and he caught it. He sat up and looked at her.

"You think I'm worried about that? About how things look in the office?" he laughed, and she looked at him sharply trying to figure out if he was laughing at her or at the idea.

"Donna, Donna, my love," he reached out and took her hands, and started kissing her palms one after the other back and forth, "My dear, my love, my only. If you think I can work another month in the West Wing while they find our replacements, work with you like nothing ever happened, you're clearly even more insane than I gave you credit for."

"Well, you can't just run around saying, 'Hi everyone! I'm leaving, but before I go I want you all to know I'm shtupping my assistant!' It would be bad for office efficiency." His kisses on her hands were arousing her, and her voice was getting the husky tone it had so often lately. God, she was totally transparent.

"You do realize you're not Jewish, right? Because you're getting this thing where you… anyway, yeah, yes. I know I can't run around telling everyone I'm sleeping with my assistant. Soon to be former assistant."

"So, I take it from your smug tone you have a plan. Perhaps similar to your secret plan to fight inflation?" She started collecting the papers and trying to restore some order.

"I gave Leo a name... let's just say if it works out, you and I will be the last thing on the minds of the press corps, okay? Tell you what, there's nothing left but busywork on the schedule today anyway, let's go over to Epcot, ride that test track thing you wanted, and we can sample our way through all the restaurants for brunch?"

"You mean it?" She knew she was sounding gushing and girlish, but hey, Disney World. She pumped her fist in the air. "My soon to be former boss rocks!"

It took longer than they expected to get ready, a delay that she thoroughly enjoyed even though it meant reapplying her lipstick and combing her hair out yet again. By the time they got to the theme park, they were both hungry enough to skip the rides and get straight to eating.

They particularly enjoyed the China and Japan pavilions, with drummers and dragon dances and lots of tasty tidbits to nibble. Donna was willing to spend all day in the Mikimoto department store, where she spent wildly on souvenirs for her soon to be former coworkers. C.J. got a silk robe, Margaret had a scarf, and Bonnie and Ginger got fans and little ceramic cats. The cats were to bring good fortune, and she got a somewhat smaller and more discrete one for Toby. She got herself some beautiful black lacquered chopsticks to use when she put her hair up.

She went looking for Josh, feeling guilty for spending so much time (and more than a little of his money, as he had insisted that he pay for at least half of the office presents). She found him at the counter, getting a small parcel wrapped.

"What did you find there, O Captain My Captain?" She glided up behind him and settled with her chin on his shoulder. "Something for Leo? Because I can't find anything for Leo or Charlie."

"As a matter of fact, I did find something for Charlie." He led out a small book to her. "It's all poetry about the life of the Bushi, these elite warriors in service to the emperor. Apparently, service and absolute loyalty weren't enough, they were supposed to be artists and poets too."

"I'm sure the President would approve." She said this quietly, not wanting to draw too much attention to the fact that they worked for the President of the United States and were making snuggle-bunnies all over Disney World.

"I hope so, since I got him a book about the evolution of the samurai code of honor in the Kamakura Shogunate. I have no idea what that is but it sounded esoteric, so there you go."

"Is that what's in the wrapping?" She said, trying to see what he was putting in his pockets and what was being sent back to the suite. "Or is that for Leo?"

"I have no idea what to get for Leo, Donna. And no, this is not for the President. Stop fishing." He pretended to sound stern, and she lit up like a sparkler.

"Ooh, someone got something for me? Is that what you're saying?"

"Go on to the bazaar in the Morocco pavilion, would you? I need to take care of a few things here before we go." He was trying so hard to sound casual, she was tempted to hang around being helpful and watch him go crazy. Still, if he wanted to surprise her, she ought to give him a fighting chance.

"Oh, okay, but don't be too long." She batted her eyelashes at him melodramatically. "A pale defenseless thing like me, alone in a Moroccan sook? I'll be in a harem by tea time if you don't come save me."

"I'm counting on it. I need the rest." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. It was the first time he had so casually showed affection in public, and she was thrilled at how good it felt. "Now go, woman, and let me do the thing."

She grinned, and pulled her Minnie ears out of her bag. Fixing them firmly on her head, she winked and grinned, and was off to the marketplace. Maybe Leo would like some Moroccan brass…somethings. Maybe not.

W.W.

Josh turned back to the patient lady behind the counter, and nodded to her. She brought his remaining gift out from under the counter and raised her eyebrow at him in an unspoken request.

"Hai, arigatou gozaimasu." That was about all the Japanese he remembered from his crash course before the last trade talks, but it was enough. The woman smiled at him as she rapidly wrapped the gift in elegantly folded paper.

He stashed the small parcel in his pocket securely, and signed to have the other items sent to his room. On an impulse, he added a long, dark emerald green kimono in what he hoped was Donna's size, and had that sent as well. Might as well spend his all his remaining mad money today, since they were going home tonight.

As he hurried towards the faux-Arabian marketplace, he looked for Donna amid the sea of tourists. He spotted her just outside the Morocco pavilion, her bag held securely between her ankles as she lined up a camera to take a picture for an old man, his son and daughter-in-law, and his grandchildren. They were all laughing, and she was calling to them in halting Italian.

"Unitamente! Um, closer? Closer! Buono! Buono!"

"Grazzie, Signorina," the older man told her, taking the camera from her as Josh came up to them. "Scusa, Signora?"

"No, no, signorina." she blushed as Josh came up and put his arm around her.

"Grazzie, e buon giorno." He nodded at Josh, and they started off. Donna got her bag back on her shoulder. She looked back at Josh.

"What? Come on, what?" She wondered why he was looking at her that way.

"Nothing," he said as the Italian family moved along the wide promenade around the Showcase of Nations lagoon. "You just still surprise me, that's all."

"Well, you know I'm half Italian. Mom speaks a little, but papa Fiorello hardly spoke anything else." She took his arm and they began walking back towards the entrance. It was about time to start packing up, but neither of them wanted to admit it.

"Fiorello, like Laguardia?" He grinned, enjoying the sunshine and the happy faces around him. No one was yelling, no one was fighting or smoking or trying to cut Social Security. He'd been to Disney before, but he hadn't really seen it till he'd come with Donna.

"He's the one that left the Catholic church- grandma was his second wife and they married in her Presbyterian church. I always liked his name. It means little flower. I think it's important that names have meanings. Take Joshua- you know what it means, right?"

"Sure. 'Jehovah saves.' Very biblical. Maybe a little rah-rah for my tastes but I've never been all that religious. Now, your name is a winner."

She grimaced and he could feel it in her body language. "Donna means woman. Big whoop. And Donnatella is just a long form of Donna."

"Beg to differ," he said, putting his arm around her and letting his hand rest on her hip. "According to babynamesworld dot com, 'Donatella' with one 'n' is Italian too, and it means beautiful star. You just got an extra 'n.' I guess because they knew you were going to be extra beautiful."

She stopped and looked at him. "You're kidding me, right? And what on earth were you doing at babynameswhatever dot com?"

It was his turn to stammer and blush. "Nothing. Just, you know, wondering about names, trying to find something I know that you don't, that doesn't involve politics."

"How about this?" She leaned in and kissed him briefly, and pulled back smiling. "I love you, and you love me, and that is the one thing in our lives we can always count on, no matter what else we screw up along the way."

"Well yeah," he said, taking her by the arm again as they headed back to the hotel for the last time, "but I knew that."

W.W. –Saturday evening

As they rode the monorail train back to the resort, Donna laid her head on Josh's chest and closed her eyes. She was memorizing every sensation, every sight and smell and taste, for playback over the years to come. She realized Josh had said something, and she'd missed it.

"What was that, sorry?"

"I said, 'Do you ever wonder what it would be like to bring kids here?' I see all the strollers and the bags and, the, you know, all the stuff that goes with kids. It would be like planning the Normandy landings."

"You think about kids?" She was trying to watch his face. She knew this was an important question, but she was tired and comfortable, and leaning on his chest it was so tempting to close her eyes and just cuddle till the monorail stopped. She blinked hard and looked at him owlishly.

"Maybe," he admitted. "I think about lots of things. It's what I do, I'm a thinker."

"I like the way you think," she admitted, and lay her head back down on him. This was all just too good.

The train came to a stop. "Donnatella," he said, sitting up straighter and forcing her to lift her head. "This is our stop, little star."

"Can we take a nap before we pack up?"

"No, but we can sleep on the train, okay? I promise."

"Humph," she grumped as they left the monorail platform and headed towards the hotel. "I remember the last time, I didn't get much sleep at all."

"Promises, promises," he teased, and she grinned despite herself. She wondered how they were going to fit everything into Josh's car for the trip back to the Autotrain and to DC.

W.W.

"Hey C.J., I got a message that you called."

"I'm sorry, Steve." C.J. said, pulling her long legs up and propping her feet on her desk. "I'm sure there was something, but I couldn't tell you what, sorry."

"Well," drawled the reporter casually, "I'm sure that it wasn't anything important. So I guess there isn't anything the White House needs to comment on tonight?"

"No, nothing at all." C.J. looked out her doorway and then said with absolute naturalism, "Of course, I'd heard that someone told you that Josh Lyman is not being moved out as part of any political maneuvering, but rather was making a move to be closer to his family."

"Yeah, I did hear that." C.J. could hear Steve's pen flying across his notepad. "I also heard something about him and his assistant…?"

"Nothing new or noteworthy, I'm sure," C.J. corrected him, "Of course they have both worked in the administration for years and it would be understandable if they decided pursue other opportunities after their long and professional service."

"Ah, that must be what I heard." There was silence for a moment except for the rustling of papers at his end. "I suppose I heard this from highly placed sources in the administration?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. I'd say that friends in the White House were pleased to confirm that the Deputy Chief of Staff and his Senior Assistant were both accepting prestigious positions outside the administration." Her wording was as close to a public coming out party as the couple would get from official Washington, and she knew Steve would get word around once his story broke,

"Well, I'm sorry to bother you then, C.J. Thanks for your time."

"Sure enough, Steve. See you Monday."

"Oh, and C.J.?"

"Yes?" The protocol of the official leak was as unchanging as a Japanese tea ceremony, and she was curious about what he else wanted.

"If you happen to talk to Joshua Lyman or Donna Moss again this weekend, tell them we all said congratulations."

"Well, I'll be sure to do that, Steve. Thanks." She hung up, and looked at the phone for a moment. "What an old softy." She grinned and went back to work, trying to clear her desk and head home for the rest of the weekend.