W.W. –Monday morning

"C.J.! C.J!"

"Yes, Steve?" C.J. Cregg looked over the tops of her glasses at the prematurely white-haired man in the second row.

"Does the White House have any further comment on the story that Deputy Chief of Staff Josh Lyman has tendered his resignation?"

"Well, I'd like to note that Josh Lyman has been a valuable member of the administration since joining the President's first campaign for the White House, and his contributions have not come without personal sacrifices. I understand he plans to meet with the President tonight and I'm sure I'll have more comment for you then. Until then, I neither wish to speculate nor gossip, despite your palpable desire to have me do so."

"C.J., does Josh Lyman's resignation have anything to do with the story in this weekend's Miami Herald, which stated that he was photographed in what was described as, and I'm quoting here, a 'passionate, public embrace' with his long-time assistant, Donna Moss?"

"Well, Katie, obviously when I said I didn't wish to speculate or gossip, I didn't mean to include where he was, who he was with or what he might be doing. I'm getting each one of you a dictionary for Christmas, honest to God." C.J. pouted just the slightest bit.

"And, since none of you are going to give me nearly enough credit for using the phrase 'palpable desire' in the White House Press Room, that's it for this morning everyone. See you this afternoon when your outfits may change but your questions will very likely be the same." C.J. grinned and snapped her briefing folder closed with a pop.

"C.J.! C.J.!" They always tried for one last follow-up. She had never taken one, but it didn't stop them from trying.

"Carol," she told her assistant on the way out, "make sure Steve, Katie, and Philip all have a hard copy of Friday's statement on Donna's new job before they leave the building today?"

"Already done," Carol said with a broad grin. She took three steps to every two of C.J. as they walked quickly away from the Press Room and back to C.J.'s office.

"Thanks. We don't want them getting creative describing her new position, especially since no one but the President, Leo and Donna seem to know exactly what it is yet."

W.W.

Donna managed to get up and get ready for work without looking at the huge pile of boxes UPS had delivered from Florida, or the two delivery notices on the door since her roommate had gone out.

"Accustomed to a certain amount of physical closeness my ass." She blew at a strand of hair that was hanging in her face. She wanted to go back to bed. Or the sofa, the sofa was good.

She looked at the pile of papers and books still waiting for her. She had been in the middle of several projects when the trip to Florida had arrived out of virtually nowhere, and she'd planned to clean up when she got back.

She hadn't really planned on falling in love, graduating college, committing to a new job in another state, and getting engaged all over the last week. In retrospect, this had proven to be shortsighted of her.

Most of all, she spent the morning not thinking, very deliberately and precisely not thinking, about the pills she had missed in Florida, and the bajillion little Lyman swimmers that might or might not have made themselves at home somewhere past her cervix during the weekend. In case that wasn't enough, she had a wedding to start planning, but until the next news cycle broke they didn't dare tell anyone at work who might possibly help. Wonderful.

She took a moment to look at herself in the mirror on the back of her closet door. She put her hands on her hips and rolled them forward, pushing her belly out. She turned a bit and contemplated the view.

Maybe she was being silly. Worse things could happen. A Josh baby would be a cute baby, right? All dark eyes and curly hair? She sucked her stomach back in, and frowned at the sleek silhouette. Maybe she didn't want to be safe, she didn't want to be 'lucky.'

Maybe she just wanted to be happy.