W.W. –Saturday evening

"Donna!"

"I thought," Donna said, popping her head into Josh's office, "that we were trying not to do that any more."

"Do what?" josh looked at her blankly for several seconds. "Oh."

"Oh," she repeated.

"Donna, darling, could you come her for a moment?" he asked with obsequious precision. She laughed despite herself and came into what would soon be Joey Lucas' office.

"Yes?" She noted his flushed face and wide eyes. "What's wrong?"

"You're wearing… that?" he choked out.

She looked down at the sheer silk blouse she was wearing, with a single ruby pendent necklace at her throat. "Why? Is something wrong with the way I look?"

"In this light you can see through it, for a start. Plus I'm about to meet your mother and father and I'd really rather not do it while trying to see through your shirt!" He was rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, scrubbing away the images and the thoughts that went with them.

"Ah," she said wisely. She slipped her jacket on, completing the black pants suit and leaving much more to the imagination. "Better?"

He looked up, and pursed his lips. "For the party? Yes. For when we get home… not so much."

"It's started raining again. Mom and dad finished the tour while you were in the meeting, so we better get over to their hotel before the weather gets even worse." She smiled, and moved to straighten his tie. He tipped his head back and perched on the edge of his desk as she worked her magic on his knot, her fingers ever so lightly touching his face when she finished.

"Damn," she said softly. "That's still good. Really, really good."

"Some things don't change, Donna," he said with a confident smirk. "Let's go."

W.W.

"Dad, what's so important that I have to take my first really free Saturday night off in a month to rush over here?"

Zoey Bartlet's warm tone did not match her scolding words. Ever since her violent abduction and eventual rescue, the young woman had rarely needed an excuse to be surrounded by family. As for her Saturday nights, she'd spent most of them either with her mother or one of a few friends from college. She rarely dated and never went to clubs on busy nights any more.

Her father reached out to embrace his youngest daughter. He tried to give her a solid hug, but his MS was proving troublesome tonight and he managed only an awkward squeeze. She didn't comment on it, but he saw her biting her lower lip for a moment as she composed herself.

"It's nothing serious, Zoey. There is an event tonight in Chevy Chase, that for reasons too boring and variegated even for my trivia-loving mind, I cannot attend. Your mother and I would very much like for you to go and represent the Bartlets at this function. I promise that you will have a pleasant evening, and I've even arranged for some suitable company."

"Daddy, you didn't! Not another one of those well-meaning chowder heads from State who's going to talk my ear off all night when he's not stepping on my feet? And what do I need to wear?" She had worn a simple but fairly elegant dress. With her hair up and the right accessories she'd be ready for a state dinner, with a sweater and a change of shoes she could have gone to dinner and a movie. You learned to dress for multiple scenarios living in the Bartlet White House.

"Actually, your mother has something for you, honey, and…" He looked up as his wife came in, smiling and carrying a small box. "And here is the original, the mold never to be broken from whom they cast my lovely daughters."

"Why, Mr. Commander-in-Chief! Don't let my husband hear you talking that way," Abbey said with a laugh as she crossed to her daughter. "Here, I brought you something, something that might help show you that we feel tonight is very special."

"It would be nice if one of you would tell me where I'm going," Zoey rolled her eyes while trying to figure out what her mother had in the box.

"Mr. President?" A member of the protection detail had leaned in through the doorway in that completely silent yet entirely unsubtle way they all had. "He's here, sir."

"Sorry, Zoey, your mother will have to fill you in. I'll be right back." Moving with a certain precision that showed his MS was bothering him but not yet dictating is movements, Jed Bartlet moved into the hall to meet Zoey's escort.

"Mom, so what's in Chevy Chase?" Zoey opened the box her mother had handed her. Inside was a magnificent strand of pearls. It was the same one that her father had given her mother on Zoey's graduation day, and it had not been worn since.

"Oh my," Zoey said quietly.

"Yes, they're the same ones. Zoey. Zoey, look at me." Abbey had moved to put her arm around her daughter.

"The day your father gave these to me was a hard and terrible day, for all of us. But we were both so proud of you that afternoon. And we've been even prouder since. Your father and I both think it's time to start remembering better times, and making some new memories. You're going to Leo's old house out in Chevy Chase tonight for an engagement party."

"Josh and Donna?" Zoey smiled. "I had a huge crush on Josh Lyman when he first came to New Hampshire, did you know?"

Abbey laughed. "I could tell, but I don't know if I'd share that with your father."

"Well, by the end of the campaign it was pretty obvious he was taken, wasn't it? I'm just glad he finally realized it, before it was too late." She lifted the pearls out of the box. "You really want me to wear these?"

"I'll feel a lot better wearing them again after you've taken them out for a test drive, honey." She turned Zoey and lifted her hair so that they could fasten the pearls around her slender neck. With a few pulls and twists, Abbey had gathered Zoey's hair into a knot that lifted it away from her face and would pass casual inspection as an appropriate style.

Zoey had her head down and her back turned while Abbey was finishing what she was doing, so she didn't see her father come back in the room.

"Hey, Zoey, look what I found on the doorstep," he said, waving in a somewhat perplexed but very sharply dressed Charlie Young. Charlie stepped in just as Zoey turned.

"Um. Hello." Charlie stopped as if he'd been nailed to the floor joists.

"Hi." Zoey didn't know what to say. They'd spoken a few times since she'd come back, but they hadn't really talked. Neither knew where to start, and both had worried where it might end.

"Charlie, you don't mind escorting our family's representative to Josh and Donna's engagement party, do you?" Abbey smiled at his obvious discomfiture. They really were good together, but it was just like Jed to throw them together like this, just to see what happened.

"Not at all, Ma'am." He swallowed, eyes still fixed on Zoey. "It would be an honor."

"Okay," Jed said, smacking his hands together as if he was about to begin some great endeavor, "You kids have fun. Don't stay out late. Or do, but make sure to lie to me about it afterwards."

"He's teasing," Zoey said, surprising herself by finding her voice at last. "Shall we go?'

Charlie turned and offered his arm. "Sir, Ma'am," he said to the President and the First Lady. Zoey took his arm and they headed for the waiting car.

"You couldn't have warned me?" Abbey smacked her husband on the hand playfully. "I almost missed his reaction."

"I work in mysterious ways, Abigail, my wonders to perform." He smiled, but the smile soon faded. She noticed he was still leaning on the back of the sofa where he had stopped when Charlie came in.

"Darling, I think you need to be in bed." She hated being the one to tell him, hated the feeling she was nagging him or bullying him.

His eyes twinkled and he waggled his eyebrows at her. "Best offer I've had all evening, my dear, best all evening."

She laughed at his teasing, and took his arm as though she were leaning on him. Supporting some of his weight and steadying him, she took him towards the bedroom.

"Get your pajamas on, and take your supplements," she told him.

"And what will you be doing?" he asked in his mocking voice, the silly tone she had missed so much the last few years.

"I'm going to put on my robe, send down for some popcorn and put on 'Roman Holiday.' So you better be in that bed when I get there, mister or I'll start without you."

Jed nodded and began getting ready for an early bed. Just once, he sighed, and said quietly, "Leo's making his pears. You love those pears."

She returned to the room carrying her robe just in time to hear him, and she put her arms around him.

"I love you, too, Jed. If I had to pick, I think I got the better deal. Let's get in bed and watch movies, what do you say?"

"Okay. But if you hog the blankets I am not responsible for my actions." He smiled, and they got ready for bed.

W.W.

Josh pulled the car to the curb, and looked up to see if they could see Donna's parents. They were running a few minutes late, despite the renewed accuracy of his watch, because of the weather. As he waited for an open spot at the curb, he thought about their detour on the way on to work that morning.

He smiled at the memory of her expression. He certainly wasn't going to compare her special gift, the amazing scene with Konstantin Frye, with his little gesture, but he was glad she'd been pleased. They had gone into the shop in Arlington and he had walked confidently to the counter.

"You're holding something for a Miss Donna Moss?" he'd asked, leaning on the counter like he owned the place. He had actually thought of investing in it. No substitute for good service in making a profitable business.

"Here you go, Miss Moss. Per your specifications, Mr. Lyman." The young man had handed Donna a largish bag, which when opened proved to hold a backpack.

"You got me my own backpack?" She had sounded either completely amazed or slightly disappointed, Josh was still a little hazy on telling the two apart.

"It has a reinforced bottom to hold briefing binders, Kevlar supports for the laptop area, and a lockable pouch for passports and whatnot. It's the next generation of the one I'm using." He had looked over at the salesperson, wondering if Donna's reaction was simply her being polite in front of the staff.

Donna had chosen that moment to set the pack down and throw her arms around him, kissing him hard and fast on his cheek then his mouth, her hands mussing his hair and their elbows knocking some brochures off the counter.

"That," she had stated emphatically after coming up for air, "is why you are so perfect for me. I love it." She'd looked, blushing with the realization of where they were, at the pamphlets on the floor that the salesperson was busy picking up.

"Oh," she'd said, chagrined. "Sorry about that."

"No worries," the young man had told her with a grin. "We get that kind of reaction all the time. It's a very popular gift."

Josh continued to look for John and Annabella Moss, but the continuous drizzle and rain spattered windows made it virtually impossible to see beyond the edge of the curb.

"Josh, drop me here and circle around, okay?" Donna 's black pants suit with emerald silk blouse looked like something off the cover of Vogue. She did not look particularly weatherproof.

"I'll go, you take the car." He started to unbuckle.

"Josh, it will take me longer to come around then to dash to the curb, and I know who I'm looking for," she reminded him.

"Tall guy, going grey. Looks like a steelworker rather than an accountant?"

"Yeah, how did you know?" She shot him a curious glance.

He pointed, "Because they're standing there waving at us."

"Daddy!" Donna threw open her door only to have a gust of rain and wind nearly slam it back on her.

John and Annabella scrambled into the back seat, both of them telling Donna to say in the car and close her darn door. With some jostling and muttering, everyone got in and settled. Josh turned and stuck his hand awkwardly back towards his prospective father-in-law.

"Welcome to D.C., Mr. and Mrs. Moss. Sorry we couldn't meet you earlier, but it's been kind of crazy around the office."

John Moss took his hand in a strong grip. "Call me Jack, Josh. It's not like we were put out on the street."

"Annie, Josh," her mother gave him a quick pat. "I see what you meant about the hotel. I think the Sultan of Oman is down the hall from us."

Josh turned his attention back to driving. "Well, I wasn't sure if you'd get another chance to see us here in D.C. I hope you don't mind us just taking care of things for this trip. I didn't want to put you to any trouble."

There was a brief pause, and Jack's voice had the definite air of someone who has lost an argument. "No, Josh, we were glad accept your hospitality, and hope we can return the favor when you kids come to Madison."

Donna smiled at Josh, and then turned back to her mother. "Impressive. Did you put that on cards, or make him learn it line by line?"

"A little of both. But didn't he do splendidly?" Annie Moss had her daughter's smile, or vice versa, Josh supposed. Donna didn't actually look like either of her parents, but she was just as obviously their daughter. It was something she and Josh shared.

"So tell me about Mr. McGarry's that we're going to, or is it Secretary McGarry?" Jack was tugging at his tie and looking confined in the back seat.

"It's Leo, Jack. He's our boss, soon to be former, I guess, and his title is White House Chief of Staff. He basically runs the executive branch of the Federal government under the direct supervision of the President." Josh grinned. "He also loves to eat, and apparently loves to cook, which explains the short notice gathering tonight."

"Jack can't fry an egg," Annie piped up from the back seat. "Loves to eat, but lord help you if he has to make do in the kitchen."

"Thank you, Annabella." Jack was grinning despite his dark tone. "Annie likes to tease me because her family recipes go back six generations to Florence, whereas mine come down through the pubs of Belfast and Boston."

"Daddy is actually a very good cook, Josh," Donna agreed. "And that's seven generations, Dad. You're forgetting me and Isabella, and Chuck though he tends to take after you when it comes to the kitchen."

"So, Donna tells us you've set a date?" Annie decided it was time to suspend the 30-year running argument over cooking prowess for the time being, and get to something solvable, like wedding dates. Or peace in the Middle East.

"Yes, February 8th, if that's okay with you all." Josh looked at Donna briefly as he drove and saw her misty smile. As long as he could put that look on her face from time to time, things were going okay, he decided.

"That should be no possible. It's barely enough time for a small wedding, so long as nothing catastrophic comes up, of course," Annie said.

W.W. –Saturday night

The dinner had been amazing, the company had been warm and best of all, Josh had been able to secure Donna's presence in the hallway or the cloakroom a number of times during the evening, once barely missing a somewhat flustered Charlie and Zoey, who it seemed might have had a similar idea.

Josh was sitting on a divan next to Annie Moss, with Jack opposite him, listening to Joey Lucas describing, via Kenny, the difficulty in trying to move house with a nanny and a toddler. Between Kenny's humorous commentary, switching back and forth between his own voice and his "Joey" voice, and Joey's own eye-rolling melodramatics, it was shaping up into a very funny evening.

Josh looked over to see Donna, talking to Zoey Bartlet as they poured drinks from the impromptu bar, mostly champagne or gingerale. Josh noticed that like Donna, Zoey stuck to gingerale, and he frowned for a moment, remembering the night she'd been kidnapped.

He took a moment to observe that Charlie, standing a few feet away, seemed at least as wary as the protective detail gent, Michael, who was standing so as to observe both doorways and the window. Charlie seemed happy, but it was a guarded sort of happiness, like he was expecting at any moment for it to be taken away. Josh felt for him.

"So, Josh, do you plan on trying to move in together here, then head for Florida?" Joey asked him, pulling him from his musings.

"I'm sorry? Oh, well, we've looked at a number of options, depending on how the schedule shapes up for the next six weeks. We'd prefer to be married here, and then move down together, schedules permitting. We have three or four weeks left here, which keeps coming up as enough time to get married, or to move, but not for both."

"And of course you can't move in together until you're married," Jack Moss said, taking a sip of his champagne.

There was a silence as everyone absorbed that, then Kenny noted the look on Annie Moss' face and began to laugh, which set Joey off. Josh didn't dare smile till Jack himself broke his straight face and started grinning at him.

"Had you going for a second there, didn't I?" Jack asked him.

"The administration has no comment at this time," Josh sad meekly, taking a long pull of his champagne. "If you will excuse me, I'm going to check on our host."

Just as Josh was coming to the kitchen, he noticed Michael moving towards the door. He slowed to see who was coming or going. He noted that Toby and Will, their constant bickering reduced for tonight to a low simmer, were helping a dark-haired man off with his coat.

As he stepped forward to see who it was, Josh heard Will saying, "If we had known you were coming we'd have prepared remarks."

"If you'd know I was coming," the man said turning, "You'd have brought work for me to do tonight."

Josh stopped in surprise.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," said Sam Seaborn, pulling him into a very California hug. "Miss me?"

W.W.

In the kitchen, C.J. and Margaret were watching carefully as Leo, apron covering his impeccable suit, was whisking something in a large saucepan.

"The original recipe calls for a brandy, or preferably a cognac, to reduce the sugars and for a glaze. I tried all sorts of things to replace the brandy and it never seemed like anything but poached pears with the brandy missing."

Leo tipped the pan with a practiced flip and sent some of the golden sauce within over a large pan filled with pears. He would whisk, stir, scrape and repeat, each time tipping some of the sauce over the pears.

"Then I tried something different, a spiced cream sauce. You can't rush this, that's the secret. Patience as you ladle it over the flesh of the pears."

Toby stuck his head in, a small grin on his face at the sight of C.J. and Margaret hanging off Leo's every word. "If you are just about finished in here, Leo, the prodigal has returned."

Leo turned with a grin. "He made it? I didn't think he was going to make it. We'll be done in here in about five minutes, have everyone sort themselves back to the table would you?"

"You two might need to sample this for me, I always go heavy on the nutmeg if there's no one tasting for me." Leo tipped the last of the sauce onto the pears and began grinding fresh cinnamon and nutmeg from hand mills onto each pear.

"Who's here, Leo?" C.J. asked, wanting to run and see but also enjoying the childlike thrill of being the taster in the kitchen.

"Margaret, don't say a word," Leo cautioned sternly. "She can go peek, or test pears, but not both."

"He's a cruel man," Margaret told C.J., "but fair."

W.W.

Sam was shaking hands, trading hugs and kisses and "Hey, you too," after "Hey, you too." He came into the dining room, Josh at one arm and Will at the other, when he came face to face with Kenny Thurmond. For just a moment, Sam showed real surprise.

"Sam, you know Joey Lucas, don't you?" Will said, as Kenny turned to bring Joey into his line of sight. She saw Sam and closed her eyes for a second. Then she stood up, a beaming smile fixed in place, and crossed to him.

"Sam," she said out loud. "It's been a long time."

"Joey," Sam said, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek. "No one told me you were coming tonight. Congratulations on the job."

"Thank you," she said, reverting to signs and letting Kenny translate. "How are things at the California DNC council's office?"

"Fine. Busy." He shrugged.

"And Ainsley? She's still in the AG's office?"

"Yes. She's very busy over there." He turned to Josh. "I almost forgot, she sends her congratulations, and I think there's a card in my bag somewhere for Donna."

"Sure," Josh said. "Sorry she couldn't make it." There was obviously more going on here than he knew. Josh looked quickly to Joey, who's face was unreadable behind her smile. He then thought to look at Kenny, and saw the way his eyes pulled down at the corners.

Josh knew that look, it was the same look Donna had always had when telling him Mandy or Amy was waiting in his office. Josh took Sam's arm and steered him toward the table, to a seat down by Toby and C.J.

"Hey Will, can you duck into the kitchen and scare up some more champagne?" Josh asked just a little loudly. Sam was right: he had a terrible poker face.

"Sure thing," the younger man replied, pushing through the doors into the kitchen.

W.W.

Leo was standing in the kitchen, a spotless white apron covering a suit that cost more than Will would earn in a month. Leo's hands were on his hips and he was regarding two swooning women with affection and pleasure.

"Oh, my God," Margaret said, running the tip of her tongue over her lower lip. "Oh, my God," she repeated.

"That is the most amazing thing," C.J. said, wavering between completely ecstatic and just tipsy, "that I have ever put into my mouth that didn't have a phone number."

C.J. realized what she'd said and clamped her hands over her mouth in embarrassment, as Margaret hooted with laughter. Margaret then likewise covered her face trying to contain herself, both of them rocking slightly, faces in hands.

Leo, himself looking a little frantic and trying to reclaim the tone of the conversation, looked to Will. "The secret," he told him, "is to keep covering their flesh with the spiced warm milk till they get very pert."

W.W.

"Will?" Josh asked.

"Huh?" said the normally eloquent young man, looking at the floor.

"The champagne?"

Will looked up, then looked back over his shoulder at the kitchen doors.

"I think I forgot it," he said dully.

"You forgot it?" Donna asked, as she and her parents were sitting down.

"I'm not going back in there," Will said with sudden decisiveness.

"You're not?" Josh asked in confusion.

"Actually I may never be able to look at you, or speak to any of you ever again," Will said, sitting down heavily at his place, still obviously disturbed.

"That might not be a bad thing," Toby said gruffly from across the table.

Josh motioned across Sam as if to smack Toby on the arm.

"I'm just saying!" Toby shrugged.

Further violence was averted by the arrival of Margaret, Leo and C.J., each bearing pears on serving platters. The was a general chorus of "oohs" and "ahhs."

"Sam, glad you could make it," Leo said, putting a pear and an artful drizzle of caramel sauce on Sam's plate.

"Nice to be here," Sam said, looking around at everyone. "It's been too long."

Everyone was served, and Leo slipped out of his apron and took his place at the head of the table. They followed Toby's lead and stood. Glasses were hastily filled.

"Why don't you make the toast, Sam?" Leo asked, taking a flute of gingerale. "If you don't mind?"

Sam stood, and looked down for a moment, then at his one-time best friend. His face became very serious, and he stood straight, glass raised.

"We salute tonight two dear friends, two colleagues, two very lucky people. We celebrate the evidence, embodied here in the engagement of Joshua Lyman and Donnatella Moss, that love, true love, sometimes may go astray but in the end does not often go wrong. We cannot be happier for you, and we raise our glasses now to your long and loving life together. Especially considering your individually disastrous histories when you've tried to stay apart. Salud." He took a sip of champagne.

"Salud!"

"Cheers!"

"Saluté, Pumpkin!"

"You couldn't maybe have put some punctuation in there, you think? L'chayim!"

"Sláinte!"

Josh caught Donna's eye across the table as he raised his glass, and winked as he took his sip. She blushed and winked back, a large grin curling from cheek to blushing cheek.

W.W.

"So, we'll see you kids tomorrow for brunch over by the museum?" Annie Moss was giving her daughter a hug goodnight while her husband collected their coats from the back seat.

"Sounds like a plan," Josh agreed. "Good night Annie, Jack."

"Night Josh. Pumpkin." Jack nodded and took his wife's arm as they went into the hotel.

"Home, Pumpkin?" Josh asked as he pulled the car away from the curb.

"Don't you get started," Donna warned. "Can we swing by the office? I want to pick up some things for tomorrow afternoon so we don't have to go in."

"Sure, it's just down the street." Josh drove, his mind elsewhere. "It was a surprise seeing Sam tonight."

"Yeah, it was a shame Ainsley couldn't come." Donna waited, and when Josh didn't say anything, she added, "He's still seeing her though, right?"

"Sure, yeah." Josh recalled his brief moments with Sam alone during the party. "She has a lot going on. So does he. They see each other when they can, he says."

"I wonder what happened to them. I was sure I'd see them married off long before you and I, well, before you and I stopped fighting our star-crossed fates."

"Star-crossed fates?" Josh pulled into the White House security gate and was waved through after showing their IDs. "Is that what we were doing?"

"Well, it sounds better than 'pulling your head out of your ass' doesn't it?" She laughed. "Sorry, Joey's voice kind of carries."

She looked at her watch. "I'm just going to be a minute. Do you want to wait here or come in?"

"I'll wait. Hurry back?" He leaned over and kissed her cheek. She smiled.

"Always."

W.W. –Saturday, after midnight

"I wanted to say thank you." Zoey's voice was soft, softer even than usual.

"It really wasn't a problem. I enjoyed seeing you." Charlie was walking her through the hallways towards the Residence. They were both taking their time, walking slowly to prolong the evening.

"I don't mean the party, but it was fun. I thought Donna looked beautiful."

"What did you mean?" Charlie asked, trying to keep the interest out of his voice.

"You've had so many chances to give me a hard time, Charlie, about everything." She stopped, and he had to stop too as she held onto his arm. It turned him to face her.

"After Jean-Paul, after everything." She shrugged. "I know I can't just roll back the clock, I can't ever undo the choices I made."

Charlie stopped her before she could go on. "No, we can't. There were nights I'd have stopped feeling certain things towards you if I could, Zoey. It doesn't work that way."

She looked at him with her eyes wide and her head tilted slightly to one side. "So you didn't? Stop feeling… things… about me?"

"Respectfully? No." He smiled, and leaned forward, placing his lips briefly against hers. It was warm and sweet and undemanding, yet honest and full of promise. It was Charlie.

"I should get you home. It's late." He turned and waited while she collected herself.

"Were you always so perfect, Charlie?" Zoey said, leaning into him a little.

"Pretty much," he admitted.

"You won't say it so I will: Boy, was I stupid." She laughed at her own boldness.

"I don't mind saying it," he teased with a straight face. "Zoey, for such a smart woman, boy, were you stupid."

They were at the doorway to the Residence. He took a step back, putting a little more distance between them.

"So, if I was to ask you out, sometime not prearranged by your father?" Charlie asked carefully, "There is some chance you'd say yes?"

"If you caught me at the right time," she smirked.

"Will you go out with me tomorrow?" His bright smile split the rich dark skin of his face in the dim hallway. "Just lunch and maybe a bookstore or something?"

She shook her head. "Make it a video after lunch, at your place, and it's a deal."

She leaned and kissed his cheek briefly. As she turned to go inside, he caught another whiff of her perfume.

"Cool." The door closed and he stood there for a moment, nodding. "Very cool."