Donna leaned towards him.

"I mean it's jus the way she said it" she slurred, kicking her feet against the bar, "She's onea my best friends, an she knows how I feel an everything…"

Will nodded.

"Yeah. That sure does suck quite a bit."

She put her head down on the bar.

"WiiiiiiIIiilllllll I jus don't know what to do"

Will wrinkled his brow and finished off anther beer.

"Well you've got a pint," he laughed, "point. You've got a point. And a pint. In addition to the couple I've had and you've had and…" He chuckled into a slight snort, twirling around on his bar stool.

Donna sat straight up and focused her eyes as much as possible.

"Will, this is a serious matter. I'msnot kidding." She giggled

He cleared his throat and straightened up as well, glancing around the bar.

"I think I've got it"

"got what?" Donna asked, confused

"A plan. On what you should do."

"Ok tell me"

"So first, we go to the grocery store. We buy some bananas. They need to be solid yellow, no green, no brown – just ripe bananas. We get some creamy peanut butter, some wheat bread, and maybe even some honey. Then, we go back to my place and turn on the stove and get a frying pan. I will, at that point, find some wine, while you cut the bananas into little pieces about a quarter inch thick, and fry them just a little bit until they bubble on the top. While you're doing this, I'll be consuming more alcohol and attempting to spread a mix of peanut butter and honey on the bread. We will then put the banana slices on the bread and have sandwiches while watching re-runs of Iron Chef on the Food Network."

Donna's eyes watered up and she burst out laughing.

"Okay. Okay, alright, lets go, I can stand, we're good, lets go."

Will chuckled, paid their tab and stood. They both took several moments to relearn the skills necessary for walking, then headed towards the door. Donna bumped full force into Will and he ran into the side of the door. They both bent over laughing, completely inebriated.

A bulb flashed.

Will held his hand in front of his face. Donna bit her lip and chuckled. There were several more flashes. Will grabbed onto her arm and they walked past the photographers. There weren't many – two or three, tops, but enough to cause a bit of trouble in the morning.

They ducked into the corner grocery.

"Do you think it'll be a story?" Donna grabbed a small basket and dashed towards the fruit.

"I dono. Shouldn't be too bad."

He grabbed some peanut butter, a 12-pack, honey, bread, and aspirin before they headed to the Cashier and out the door. Donna waved madly in the air to hail a cab, which Will found incredibly amusing, and they finally got themselves off the street and into Will's apartment.

Donna immediately found a frying pan, because the whole idea seemed very exciting to her, and turned on the oven. Will handed her another beer and took off his coat. Her eyes lit up.

"I've got it."

"What? We're already frying bananas and we can't really get back to the store…"

"No. About the job. I've got a plan that doesn't involve peanut butter."

"Shoot."

"So tomorrow, you'll inevitably get a question about your relationship with the stunning Donnatella Moss, and why you were seen last night stammering drunkenly out of a Georgetown bar in each others arms, AP photo included. You'll dryly give them the truth, of course, that we're merely friends having a fun evening. But to make sure nothing comes of it, I'll tell CJ that I feel badly and don't want to jeopardize your career as Communications Director, and I'll give her my letter of resignation. I'll also tell her that I have been offered another job working under Louise Thornton, and if she doesn't like it she can bite my ass."

"Not quite as good as peanut butter, honey, and banana sandwiches, but I'll take it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he smiled, "but if you really plan to tell the White House Chief of Staff to bite your ass, tell me first"

"It's not like there'd be any political fallout…"

"No no no, I just want to see it."

They laughed. Donna plopped onto the couch and Will curled up in an armchair with the remote. As promised, Iron Chef was to be viewed until morning. The secret ingredient this time… Asparagus!

Commercials.

"You think it's going to be weird?"

Donna looked over at him.

"What do you mean?"

"You know, the new job."

"Not really. I mean, it can't be too different from the VP's campaign, can it?"

"Donna…" he whined, "you know, with Josh – working for him again"

She was quick to stop him.

"I'm working for Louise Thornton."

"Yeah, but he's the campaign manager."

"Yeah"

"and you're working for the campaign"

"Yeah"

"so you're working for him."

"Yeah… no… I don't know."

"I'm taking that as a yes."

She sighed deeply.

"I guess. I wish it could be like it was, kinda, but then again, I don't regret leaving."

Donna took a big bite out of her fried banana-peanut butter-honey sandwich and leaned back. She had been on the verge of a killer headache all night long. A few more beers helped.

"Betcha the Iron Chef wins" She smirked, brushed her hair out of her face.

"Always does. At least usually, you know."

The volume was low. Their lack of words was palpable – Will took a deep breath.

"Donna… just tell me, as a friend…tell me the truth"

"Hm?" she glanced over at him

"Are you in love with him?"

She pursed her lips. Her eyes closed, and her face was slightly lit with the soft blue light of the television. Words did not come. She nodded.