AUTHOR'S NOTES: HA! Hartsfield's Landing – "Politics in New Hampshire is…?" "Retail." Ok, had to do that 'cause I'm watching that episode right now and I thought it was an incredibly funny line. And makes me want to learn how to play chess.

Plus – Ed and Larry!!!!! Woot!

After a short break for some angst (see "Angels and Ministers of Grace") and some original fiction, it's back!

So, Susie and Birdie get mad props for helping me with this chapter and helping to come up with the premise.

PHOTOGRAPHS (14)

Donna rolled over and slammed her palm down on the top of the clock, abruptly stopping the buzz of the alarm and, at the same time, the warm feeling she had from her recent dream. Rolling over on her back and putting her hands behind her head, she sighed deeply, smiled, and thought back over the dream.

She and Josh had been dancing in the White House, as they had a hundred times before, except this time they were all alone under the chandeliers of the grand ballroom. They were dancing to Strauss, some kind of waltz for which she didn't know the name, and laughing. Josh was in white tie and tails and she was in that blue dress from the Second Inaugural. Spinning and laughing, they circled the dance floor…

Then the alarm went off.

Damn.

Stretching, she got out of bed and padded to the bathroom, noting with pleasure that she no longer had to wade her way through her roommate's plethora of hair care and grooming products. Within days of receiving her first paycheck in the private sector, she had found a better apartment in a safer neighborhood - minus roommate and cats. One of the nights that Josh had come over, he had helped hang some pictures on the wall, put up the new curtains and arrange the furniture.

Looking around, Donna smiled at the memory of Josh, with hammer and nails in hand, attempting to be "manly."

"Josh, it's crooked."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not."

"Josh, I'm not going to walk into this room every morning and look at a crooked picture."

"Donna, I am a very powerful man. I am a Fulbright scholar. I scored 760 on the verbal portion of the SATs. I have made Senators cower and women tremble. I can hang a damned picture."

"It's crooked."

"Donnnnnaaaa…"

"Josh, I have known you for over seven years. I know your qualifications. And while you may be one of the most powerful men in the country, I am here to tell you that picture is crooked. Now straighten it up."

"Why do I let you treat me this way?"

"Because you're Josh and I'm Donna and that's what we do…"

Donna smiled, switched on the coffee-maker and got ready for her day.

xxx

Ginger hadn't been able to leave the White House for their lunch date. Josh had her on a short tether because of a bill up for vote on the Hill, so the two of them had lunch in the White House mess. It had been a while since Donna had partaken of the bad coffee and excellent chocolate cake and she felt a little out-of-place among the movers and shakers at the collected tables.

"I had forgotten what it was like to eat in here," Donna whispered conspiratorially. "It's like being part of the cool crowd in high school."

Ginger giggled, "I am still in awe of this place. And I've been eating here at least once a day for the last 900 years!"

The two women laughed and settled into their old routine, catching up on gossip and the news of the upcoming campaigns.

"So, who do you think I should go to work for? I mean, I could go back to Toby, or over to Annabeth, I guess…"

Donna looked up sharply from her salad, "What?"

"I asked you who you thought I should try and go work for, when Josh leaves. Annabeth needs someone…"

"When Josh leaves? What do you mean?"

Ginger stopped, covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head. "I'm sorry. Oh, God, I'm sorry, Donna. He didn't tell you. I thought he had told you …"

Putting her fork down, Donna breathed deeply, trying to stop her racing heart, "Told me what?"

"The press release is going out tomorrow, Donna. He resigned."

He resigned. Why didn't he tell me?

"When?"

"He gave the letter to C.J. yesterday. They were waiting until tomorrow to release the news so they could work on the short list."

Ginger looked at Donna and realized that the blonde woman across from her truly had no idea what her former boss and best friend was planning. Casting her better judgment aside, she continued, "Donna, he's going to work for Matt Santos."

Donna looked questioningly at her lunch companion, "Matt Santos? The Congressman? I don't understand… why would Josh leave the White House to run a Congressional campaign?"

"Santos isn't running for Congress, Donna."

The blonde shook her head again, "I don't…I don't understand."

"Donna," Ginger said, wishing that the entire day could start over again, "Santos is running for President. Josh is going to manage the campaign."

xxx

"You are such an asshole!"

Josh stared down at the papers on his desk, forcing himself to count to ten rather than look up at the raging woman in his doorway.

"Why don't you come in?"

"Fuck you, Josh. Why don't you go to hell?" Donna shouted, barely able to restrain herself from walking over to him and slapping him across the face.

Standing up from behind his desk, Josh quietly said, "Come in and shut the door."

"When were you going to tell me, Josh? When were you going to be honest with me?" Donna's voice was rising and he could see people in the bullpen turning to look at the two of them.

"Either get in here and shut the door or leave, Donna." The tone of his voice was one she had heard only a few times in the past. Knowing he was on the edge and there was the potential for a full blown, window-shattering rage, she stepped inside the office and shut the door.

Sighing heavily, Josh sat back down behind the desk and looked at her, noting that work in the private sector had given her a new air of independence and authority. He hadn't noticed it before, concentrating on simply spending time with her and, characteristically, not observing how much she had grown.

She's becoming a totally different woman, he thought.

"Now, would you like to tell me, in a calm manner, why you're so pissed?"

"You resigned."

Shit. This was the conversation he had been dreading.

"Yes."

"When were you going to tell me?"

"I gave C.J. the letter yesterday. It's only been a day."

Donna came and sat down in the visitor's chair, the strength seeming to drain out of her legs. She couldn't believe she was having this conversation with him.

"Josh. Why didn't you tell me you were thinking about this? I mean, I had no idea. Why couldn't you tell me?"

He couldn't look up to face the blue eyes he knew were trained on him. He knew the look too well and knew that he wouldn't be able to do what he had to do if he let that look get to him.

Do it now, Lyman. If you do it now, it may not hurt her so much later.

"I'm not sure I owe you an explanation. I resigned my job. You don't work here anymore, Donna, and I certainly don't answer to you."

He heard the sharp intake of her breath and felt his heart break at the same time. In the nights since he had made his decision, he had gone over everything in his mind, trying to find a way for things to work between them. But there was no way. Operatives in two different campaigns could not have a personal relationship any more than the Deputy Chief of Staff of the White House could be involved with his assistant.

It couldn't happen.

"You told me that you…that day by the Lincoln Memorial… you told me…" she started, wanting him to explain away all the questions she had in her mind. She thought back over her own words that day and wanted to weep.

"I would hate to think what would happen if we worked for two different candidates. It would be awful. I wouldn't want to campaign against you, Joshua."

"I didn't tell you anything! You asked me if I was going to work for Hoynes and I told you no. I didn't lie, I didn't mislead, I didn't do anything that I need to justify. Not to you." Josh was forcing himself to be mean, forcing himself to push her away.

Continuing, he stood up and looked out the window, "Did you think I would sit here in the White House doing nothing while Bingo Bob Russell got elected? A man who makes Dan Quayle look like a Rhodes scholar? A man who gets his news from People magazine and the occasional blurb on SportsCenter? He's an idiot and has no concept of loyalty. There is no way that I will let that man become President, Donna!"

He turned to look at her and saw the expression change on her face. It was a look he remembered from times when he had hurt her in the past. The times when he had struck her and struck her hard.

Oh, God, please forgive me for this.

"You felt this way all this time?" she said quietly.

"C'mon, Donna. What did you think I was going to do? Sit back for the next few months and watch everything we worked for get ruined by Bingo Bob and his band of merry men? And then walk away from the White House and go do what? Work for some consulting firm while our legacy and all our good work just disappeared? Get this straight. It is my goal to make sure we put the real thing back in the White House. And it's not your guy."

By the time he was finished, he was leaning over his desk, both hands spread on the table top in front of him, looking her directly in the eye, "Yes. I felt this way the whole time."

Donna stood and picked up a coffee mug from the edge of the desk. Studying it, she realized that she had no idea why it was in her hands; she had simply reached out to hold onto something. If she held onto something tangible, maybe she could pull herself out of what had to be an awful dream. The mug was one she had gotten Josh one year for Boss' Day – she had joked that she wouldn't bring him coffee, but she'd make it easier for him to get his own.

"So, it's Santos?" The words were almost a whisper and Josh had to strain to hear them.

"Yeah," he said softly, "It's Santos."

Donna looked up at him, studying his face for what seemed to be a lifetime. Shifting her gaze, she turned to the photograph of the two of them hanging on his wall.

Who are those people? she thought. What happened to them? I don't know them anymore.

With one fluid motion, she flung the coffee mug at the picture. It was a dead on hit and the sound of shattering ceramics and glass was deafening. Walking to the office door, she threw it open and stalked down the hallway.

In the bullpen, the staff was motionless, the sound of the shouting and breaking glass completely audible through the closed office door. They could see Josh standing, immobile, in his office, staring down at the top of his desk.

There was coffee streaming down the wall behind him.

(To be continued.)