AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's incredibly tempting to go ahead and just put these two together. But I can't forget what Josh said to her and I can't make Donna do so either. So we'll just see where the muse takes us, won't we?

Also, this is sort of a transitional chapter… I don't expect much more than for it to move us from one place to another… Sorry.

PHOTOGRAPHS (10)

Waking up the next morning, it took Josh a moment to figure out where he was and who was sleeping on top of him. It had been a long time since he and Donna had fallen asleep together and he reveled in the comfortable feeling it left inside of him. He remembered that it had been a common occurrence on the campaigns, either on the bus or on Air Force One, and he had never thought twice about it. Funny how things change, he thought.

Reaching up to stroke her long blonde hair, he thought back over the events of the last several months and caught his breath at the thought that she had been so close to being taken away from him. Colin's photograph of the burning truck flashed in his mind and everything he had meant to say for all of these months, the things he had held inside because he was terrified to share them, came spilling out of his mouth.

"Donna, I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry for what I said the other night. I was so jealous. After all the gomers and dolts you had been with, Colin was the first one I felt afraid of losing you to. He was standing there in your hospital room and you kissed him and I was so jealous I could barely breathe. And after I saw those pictures, I was jealous he was there when the attack happened. I should have been the one there. I should have been there when you needed me. I had always meant to be there to protect you and the one time I wasn't you nearly died."

Josh took a breath and continued, "I'm sorry I sent you on that trip, Donna. If I had known, if I had any idea you would be in danger, I wouldn't have sent you. I hope you know that. Not a day goes by that I don't want to go back and change everything. I am so very sorry."

He held her closer and felt the tears start down his face. It was the first time, since C.J. came and told him about the attack, that he let himself cry. He had been close, several times, but he had always been afraid that Donna would see, or that if he started he wouldn't be able to stop, so he kept it all inside. After she had left to work for the Vice President's campaign, he felt he needed to keep a strict hold on himself because if he let himself go, he knew he would fracture into a million pieces and never be able to gather himself together again.

"I miss you so much, I miss having you around, I miss you keeping me together, I miss simply having you near me. I screwed things up, Donna, and I am so incredibly sorry."

A few moments passed while Josh held on to her tightly and cried softly into her hair.

"Josh," Donna whispered, her head still against his chest, "It's not your fault."

Trying to gather himself together, he chided her, "I didn't know you were awake."

"Well," she replied, "it would have been a useless apology if I hadn't been awake to hear it, now wouldn't it."

"I was just practicing."

"Really?" she laughed, sitting up next to him and looking him in the eye, "That one was good enough."

Josh looked at her, the tears running down his face, and smiled, the infamous Lyman dimples showing for the first time in ages. Donna reached up and wiped the tears from his cheeks.

"Josh, it's not your fault. I begged to go, remember? I would go again if you gave me the opportunity."

"I sent you there, Donna. I sent you there and you almost died. I don't know if I can live with that knowledge," he said to her in a small and pained voice.

"Joshua Lyman, stop it! Don't you think I wished I had been there that night in Rosslyn? Don't you think that for months afterward I woke up at night wishing that I had been with you when you were shot? Thinking maybe I could have stopped it?"

Josh looked at her in wonder. Never, in the years since the shooting, had Donna mentioned that night in Rosslyn in such terms. She had always danced around talking about the event and never spoke about it directly, particularly with him.

"I learned to live with the knowledge that I wasn't there, Josh. That there was nothing I could do to change what happened. You have to do the same thing."

Holding his face in both of her hands, she continued in a softer voice, "I don't blame you, Joshua. Please don't blame yourself."

He looked at her for a moment and then glanced away, the emotion between them was almost palpable and he needed a moment to get a hold on himself. There had been a few times in their relationship when this kind of moment had arisen and Josh had always relied upon the fact that he was her employer and she was his employee to keep them in line. That relationship didn't exist anymore and he had no idea what would happen without that barrier in place.

"What I said the other night…" he started, feeling the need to get those awful words out in the open and resolved.

"I haven't forgotten it. And I haven't forgiven you," she said, standing up slowly and moving toward the kitchen. Josh looked down at his hands, knowing whatever she said he deserved.

At that point, Josh's pager went off. Reaching down he noted that it was a White House number and he jumped up to grab the phone. Dialing the number, he stood in the doorway to the kitchen watching Donna make coffee while he spoke to the person on the other end, "Uh-huh… yeah… yeah… When?... Okay… give me an hour and I'll be there."

Josh hung up the phone and cleared his throat, "I have to get back to the White House."

"Gaza?" she asked, her eyes wide, remembering the events of the day before.

Josh nodded silently and grabbed her hands, "Are you going to be okay? Should I have someone come over to sit with you?"

Donna looked up at him and smiled, "No. I'll be fine. I'm going to call Stanley's guy today. You don't have to worry. My windows will be safe."

He smiled at her weakly, "Can I call you later?"

She studied him carefully, noting the wrinkled suit, the sleepy eyes and the wild hair. In the weeks since their falling out, she had missed him… missed talking to her best friend, teasing him about his lack of social graces and inability to take care of himself, sharing his french fries, and simply being near him. She had been shocked at the depth of emotion he had expressed in his "apology" and knew that whatever there was between them, they had crossed a line that had been etched in the sand for the previous years of their relationship.

"Yes, you can call," she said, looking down at the coffee pot in her hands.

"Ok," he said, grinning and bouncing on the balls of his feet. He turned to gather his coat and start out the door.

"Josh?"

"Yeah?" he was standing with the front door open, ready to run down the stairs.

"Thank you."

He smiled at her and then disappeared.

(To be continued.)