Will cleared his throat.

"Alright. So, you know I wouldn't ask if I thought it was out of line or anything, because the last thing I want is for things to be awkward between us, but … did I interrupt something back there?"

She looked away.

"When?"

"Come on, Donna, I mean back in the hall with Josh."

Donna paused.

"No. I mean not really. I mean, just a little."

"I'm thinking we should discuss this once we're sitting down."

"Yeah"

She was exasperated. After an unfulfilling day at work, the very last thing she wanted to do was to sit down and talk about her former boss. And yet, here she was, agreeing that she and Will should most definitely sit and talk about her fixation on a nonexistent relationship, friendship or otherwise. They walked to the back of a familiar coffee shop, which was thankfully quiet, and sat down.

"Ok," Will propped his elbows on the table, "tell me everything."

Donna raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah…I'm going to go get some hot cocoa for me, some intense coffee for you, and when I get back you should really think about not talking like a teenage girl."

Will removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. The day had worn him thin. He was curious, of course. Josh and Donna had always been a source of confusion for him and for everyone else in the world. If something was going down, he wanted to be on the in. Everyone needed some good news, and reconciliation between Josh and Donna might bring a smile to some frowning faces.

Donna set the coffee in front of Will and brought her own mug to her lips. Chocolate was definitely the solution. Will pushed his glasses back on and looked Donna straight on.

"You going to answer my question?"

"Remind me, what was it?"

He laughed.

"Come on, Donna, I'm trying to be a friend here."

"There's nothing going on. We hadn't talked in awhile, we were catching up."

"Yeah… by the time I got in there you had turned green and looked like you were about to throw up."

"Good to know I looked nice…"

"Donna, please. He was obviously upset about something."

"When is he not?" She paused. "Look, we're both just really frustrated… with each other, I guess. He's mad because I quit and 'abandoned him' to work for Russell, who I think we both know he wasn't exactly fond of, and I'm mad because… because he let me take his messages for… God, for what, almost 8 years? Because I knew his drycleaner's name and his mother's email address and because I could keep up with his takeout orders and meetings that only existed in his head…"

Will pursed his lips. Did he really want to get into this with her?

"I know you're both mad, it's just…"

"Just what, Will? There were times I thought he respected my opinions and the work I did, but it's pretty obvious now that I was just his secretary."

"Whoa, whoa, now that's a complete lie and you know it."

Her eyes were turning red. Will took a deep breath.

"You know you weren't a secretary. Donna, you were the ring leader of all assistants, you were an essential advisor to the Deputy Chief of Staff and even advised the President when he made some pardons, and you once single-handedly saved Social Security. Josh fell apart without you there and acts like a baby when you're discussed, which is just to keep him from crying like one. You guys were best friends. I know that things are weird right now, but you guys have to work this out."

She sighed. This was a difficult fight.

"He held me back, Will, I had no choice – I had to leave"

"Yeah, he held you back. The one big opportunity he gave you, you nearly died in a car bombing."

Donna glared at him.

"So because I got blown up, I can't handle anything but phone calls?"

"No, Donna," he shot back, "Because you got blown up, he equates elevating your job to you getting hurt."

She looked down. She had considered that possibility, of course. Wasn't that very similar to what she had yelled at Amy for years ago? They were silent for a few moments.

"I got a call from Louise Thornton today."

"Excuse me?" That was obviously not what Will had expected.

"Lou Thornton. She called me today. Wants me to do press for the campaign."

"Wow. I mean… wow. If I had known Josh was asking you to… I wouldn't have interrupted…"

"No, Will, Josh doesn't know."

"Alright. So… exactly how does a campaign manager not know who is being hired for important staff positions?"

"She doesn't report to him. She takes everything straight to the congressman, apparently. I told her Josh didn't hire me before… she said not to worry, to think it over and call her at the end of the week."

"Wow. I mean… wow. Bet he hates that."

"Someone else having free-reign of his candidate without talking to him first? I'm sure he does."

"You're…. you're thinking of taking it, aren't you?"

"I don't know, Will. I mean, this whole being a student thing isn't as great as I thought it would be. I feel like it's holding me back. Like I need the degree to move on, but I already have the knowledge to."

"Maybe you should do it."

She closed her eyes for a moment. She had been trying to move on. She had honestly tried.

"If he was giving you every opportunity, you would have grown out of this job three years ago"

Donna bit her lip. This was a conversation she had relived all too many times.

"Yon know, you can't blame Josh. It's not his job to..."

"I don't blame Josh, it takes two of you. You choose to stay."
"It's the White House."

"It's not the White House, it's him."

What was she supposed to do? He had given her everything. He had taught her everything. What would she tell CJ? Not that he wanted her back, anyways. He didn't want her there. But was she really needed at the White House? The campaign could produce some lasting opportunities, not an honor that would end in 100 days.

"What should I be doing...instead of this?"

"Anything... anything that doesn't have to do with Josh Lyman."

"Donna?"

She looked up.

"Sorry. Just… zoned out for a minute."

"Thinking about something?"

"Yeah." She severely needed a drink of a stronger nature.

"Want to share?"

"Just… a conversation I had before Gaza."

"With Josh?"

"With CJ."

"And?"

"If we're going to do this…"

"Right. Alcohol."