Author's note: One chapter and TWO flashbacks. This one is named "What Donna Did." Just kidding but if you watch "Lost" you'd get the reference. Nahh I think I'll name it that anyway. I don't have a whole lot to say about this chapter expect that you will learn the big secret. It's a little heavy, a little angsty but it has some sweet moments. Hopefully it will answer any questions. The next chapter is funny, or at least I think so.

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Enjoy!

Chapter 2

It was three days into the administration; Josh was still trying to figure out the phone systems and all the conference rooms. The only thing he knew for sure was the office connected to his was oval in shape. His mind was lost in a hundred different thoughts, so it wasn't surprising that Josh didn't notice the square box wrapped in red, white and blue paper. When he did, couldn't take his eyes off of it. "AMBER!" He bellowed. She rolled her eyes and entered his office. He didn't give her an opportunity to speak, "Where did this come from?" He pointed to the offending box.

"Some woman from the Bartlet office dropped it off for you." He wanted to question Amber if this was going to be standard procedure, that people were just going to leave strange objects in his office without questions, but is curiosity got the better of him. The paper was disposed of much faster than the time and care it took to put it on. Inside contain a hockey puck sandwiched between two hamburger buns. He smiled as he read
the note:

I could tell you to change to world, make it a better place. But I think that adds extra pressure to an already stressful job. So I will leave you with this piece of advice: Do no harm. - Donna.

Josh pulled the hockey puck out of the box dusted off any crumbs and placed it on his bookshelf- it stayed there until he left four years later.

Donna POV

So here I am two weeks from starting my new job in the White House, and my boss, the soon to be new President sends me, CJ and Toby on a vacation. Collectively, we haven't had more then two weeks off in seven years, so this did seem out of the ordinary. Abby said this would be our last chance to have a life for two years, and considering the last two years have been like living Dante's Inferno, I really couldn't refuse.

But right now, as the ship leaves dock, I'm standing two feet away from the soon-to-be-former-President's former Chief of Staff. I've ruined his life, and he doesn't even seem to care. His eyes are firmly planted on the sea searching for dolphins. Maybe he doesn't care, because he doesn't know it was me. I was the one who toppled his empire. Still it's a little unnerving he's so relaxed.

He coyly eyes me up. "Go ahead, you know you want to." Coyly, I meant cocky.

I raise one eyebrow, "I want to what?"

"Ask. You've got the great Josh Lyman in front of you, the man who single handedly ruined his career by walking away from the President. Come on, you have to have questions. Since leaving I haven't done a single interview, you could be the one who gets the scoop." There is a slightest smile in his face.

"Why would I want the scoop?" I press my hand to my chest, "I'm not a reporter."

"No but you play one on TV." He smirks and I want to… um... slap him? I guess. "Well you play Press Secretary on TV."

"I'm used to answering questions, not asking them." It's true.

"This is your one chance, take it now or lose it forever." He looks at me then back to the water. "5, 4, 3, 2…"

My mouth starts running and I am unable to stop it, "Why did you quit? Where did you go? Why didn't you retaliate when all of DC was running you threw the mud? Why did you come back so suddenly?"

His face lights up. "HA HA! I knew you had questions."

"Of course I have questions, all of America has questions!" I find myself smiling. He's changed so much, he's been hurt in ways I can only imagine He points to a deck chair and we sit.

"So do you want the whole story?" No, I don't. It's been hard enough to sleep at night, not knowing the truth. It makes it easier to hate you, although I never really did. Even when things were at its worse, you, I didn't hate. Everyone else, sure, that was easy.

"Sure." I nod. He looks again at the sea, trying the figure out where to start.

"I quit my job, left the county, bummed around Europe for a year or so, wrote a book and came back to the states. The End."

I start to pout, "Well, I knew all of that."

He looks at me with questioning eyes, "Are you sure you want to hear it? I don't want you to feel uncomfortable." Too late.

"Yes, Josh. Tell me. Let's start from the beginning, why did you quit?"

He puffs out his cheeks, "Sure, start with the hard one." He runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. He's silent for a moment; maybe he's going to change the subject. Maybe he isn't going to answer the question…. Maybe… "It was January 25."

What? But that's the day…

His eyes are unfocused like he's reliving the night. "I had come back from a meeting on the hill, it was late. I walked into his office about to recap the uselessness of said meeting when I noticed he had an ice pack on his face. 'What happened?' I asked. He glared at me as if it was my fault. 'A Secret Service agent punched me. I want that son of a bitch fired.' I stood there on the seal of the President questioning why an agent would punch him. He didn't answer. There were only a handful of people with protection. It had to be someone on Bartlett's staff."

He looks at me for the first time, his eyes swimming with fear and uncertainly. My stomach starts to knot up, and my heart feels like it is beating out of my chest. He looks back down at his shoes and continues, "I walked into my office, packed up my stuff, handed him the envelope that had been sitting in my desk drawer for months now, and walked out of the White House forever."

There's a lump in my throat, making it impossible to speak, "But you didn't even know who she was."

He shakes his head, "I didn't need too; he broke the first rule. He was lost and there was nothing I could do for him." There is sadness in his body language; he's hunched over, fiddling with his fingers. Like he had tried to help, but was always turned away.

I ask the question, although Sam already told me the answer, "Do you know who it was?"

"No."

I ask the second question, it seems fair considering what he lost, "Do you want to know?"

He frowns and shakes his head, "No, it really doesn't matter. I can't help her. Besides I probably would have quit eventually. Hoynes stopped taking advice years ago. I kept holding on for the greater good… but that never came."

A painful thought crossed my mind, I swallow hard recalling the fact that Hoynes had broken rule number one, "Did you know he was doing this?" Anger filled my eyes, as he looks up at me with guilt painted on his face.

"I knew about the affairs. It had been going on since the first campaign." My hands start to shake. His voice starts to quiver, "But you have to believe me, it was always consensual. Women would approach him. He never sought them out. At least not when I was in change, but somewhere along the lines he pulled someone else for that duty." Chipper Huges was Josh's replacement pimp. I won't lie; there is a sort of self-satisfaction of taking his office in a few weeks.

Josh's eyes plead with me, "I made rules to protect him, and everyone else. Rule one: Women who worked for us or Bartlet were off limits. He couldn't do it while he was in DC or with anyone from DC. Those women are smarter, more dangerous and know the system better, too much of a potential fall out."

"Oh, but every other woman is fine. This country was built on their backs?" I hiss.

He shoots back, "No! Don't you think I felt guilty? Look at how many women's initiatives went through because I was trying to ease my conscience. You have to understand, everyone has their flaws. I just thought that this was his. Your guy hid the fact he has MS."

Whoa now, it's on. "He never broke a law. Don't even compare the Vice President's medical condition with rape."

He recoils, shamefaced, "I know, I'm sorry, I've spend the last two years being sorry." He looks back out to the water, as if he finds some form of peace in it. I guess it would be easier then looking at me. "Honestly, Donna, I had no idea that was going on. I had no clue how far he had strayed."

This much I know to be true, the whole country found out at his questioning during the Congressional hearings. I believed he said something to the President along the lines of, "I hope you go to OZ, you son of a bitch." Then he had to explain to Congress he didn't mean where the wizard lived, but the prison show on HBO. "I know you didn't." My voice was softer than I expected.

Relief washes over his face. "Thanks. I spent so much time as public enemy number one; I forgot someone might believe me."

Well I don't know how long he was Public Enemy number one. I stole that title from him a while ago. "So what happened next?"

"Um, well it turns out the lovely and charming Amy Gardener only loved the power I had, not me. So she called off the wedding after I spent two days sulking in my townhouse."

He lost his girlfriend and his career. "I'm sorry."

A small smirk crosses his lips, "Don't be, it could have been worse. I could have married her." We share a quick laugh. The air around us has become considerably lighter. "So I left the country, hung out in Europe for a while, a month in London, two months in Ireland, and three months in Tuscany, here and there. I was gone for all the mud slinging, and scapegoating. When "she" finally came out and the scandal and investigation started I was too far out of the loop to really care."

"I find that very hard to believe. You walked away from everything you held dear because you were "out of the loop"." Caught in his half truth he quickly back tracks.

"No, I simply avoided all news channels, set my home page to caught up on my reading." His voice lightens, "I watched all the Lord of the Rings DVDs with commentary tracks. Yep, three weeks of my life I can never get back. Oh, I even went to New Zealand and saw where they filmed the Shire."

I smile despite myself, "Wow, you're quite the nerd."

"Jealous?" His dimples appear.

"Not Really." I laugh a little, "So was it worth it? The traveling?"

"Yeah, I gained perspective. When you are surrounded by countries, buildings, and structures that have survived plagues, fires and war, suddenly your own self loathing woes pale in comparison. So I settled here and there. I kept in contact with Mom, Sam and when the mood struck me Amber, my assistant. Some time when I was in Spain I started writing a book, mostly to keep myself out of trouble."

"The money didn't hurt either…" I add. He instantly frowns.

"I was never going to get it published, it was something Amber did. There's a reason I'm not on the cover or that my editor had to do all the promotion. If I thought for a second it would spend 15 weeks at number one I never would have sent it out. I think it makes me look less creditable."

On one level he's right. I haven't read the book yet, in fact it is sitting in my luggage right now, but from what I've heard it's a book how not to break into politics. Sam was helping Josh ghost it while he was defending the Bartlet staff to congress. I distinctly remember being impressed at Sam's ability to multitask.

Josh continued his story. "It was Amber who found Matt Santos. She's a sneaky one and set up meeting for me. After five minutes, I knew he was the real deal. One last gem in a sea of shit. I thought I was going to have to beg for a job, honestly I was ready to grovel. But I didn't. He said everyone needs second chances and offered me chief of staff for his office."

For the first time I see a glimmer in his eyes, missing for the entire conversation, respect, penances and honor. There's awe in his voice and the slightest quiver of pride in his smile. "I'm going to fix my mistakes and make a good man President." He looks me in the eyes for the first time and a wave of heat flashes over my back, and my stomach begins to tingle. No man has ever done that to me with one look.

4 Years ago

It was the second January of the Hoynes Bartlet Administration when Josh pleaded with Toby to write the state of the union. Toby refused at first, stating he had his own speeches to write and that Josh should hire a better speech writing staff. Josh quickly offered Toby a job for the President but was rejected just as fast.

"Why would I leave a good man, just to work for yours?"

Toby had a way of humbling the largest ego in DC, but after much pleading, begging and groveling, he gave it.

Josh rolled on the balls of his feet, as he stood in the conference room. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Toby grumbled. "I brought you someone to write with." And pointed to Sam Seaborn who was behind Josh. Toby wanted to make a snide comment, but it would inevitability get back to Donna somehow and he would get yet another lecture.

Toby and Sam's small talk lasted for the three seconds it took for each other to acknowledge the other's presence. Josh paced around the room, irritating both writers. Toby's head was in his hands when Donna entered the room.

"Hey, Toby whatcha working on? Do we need to review the rules about scheduling things on your own?" She stopped and surveyed the room. This was the first time Josh stopped moving since he entered the OEEB.

Toby seemed surprised to see her, "Donna, go home." She stood in the doorway waiting for an answer. Once again he was defeated, "I'm working on the State of the Union, because Josh didn't hire a competent writing staff. This guy Sam Something is here because Josh doesn't think I'm competent enough either."

"Seaborn." Sam corrected.

"That's not true." Josh defended.

Toby ignored both of them, "It's going to be a late night, Donna. Go home to Cliff, eat a normal dinner, have sex and watch the news."

She still stood in the doorway, arms crossed, "You're working on the State of the Union?"

"Yep."

"Well, then I'm staying. You're going to need it edited before State can OK the language. Besides sex with Cliff will last twenty minutes if I'm lucky, but the State of the Union, if done right, can be history. "

Josh found himself smiling. He wasn't sure why, but he thought on one level she was choosing to be with him instead of this Cliff fellow. It was under Toby's orders that Donna entertained Josh, if he insistent on hanging around the office.

"So what are you doing here so late?" Josh looked at his watch, it was nearly eight thirty.

"I missed most of the morning for class, so I make up my hours later."

"Class?"

"I'm finishing my BA at Georgetown. Toby said since I hired myself and didn't give him an opportunity to interview me himself. The very least I can do it finish my degree. Thanks to my alimony checks I've been able to take two classes a semester. But during the winter semester I can only take one. So here I am, working late and entertaining you." She smiled at Josh. He found himself proud of Donna; she changed so much in the two years since he met her.

Friendly banter about the in and outs of DC life, quickly became twenty questions, as Donna leaned on her desk and Josh sat on her chair.

"Is this that Cliff fellow?" Josh picked up a photo on her desk.

"I think it's pretty obvious he's my boyfriend."

"Good for you getting back on that horse." He said with approval, but it was shortly followed by, "Still, he's kinda short." Donna kicked Josh lightly on his shin, his comment did not warrant any retort. "So how did you two meet?"

"Do you remember that girl who kicked Toby's ass on Capital Beat?"

"Ainsley Hayse?"

"Yeah, Leo hired her for White House council. One day she was searching around the office for food, and we hit it off. She told me about this great guy, who recently broke up with his girlfriend and poof now we're dating."

Josh tapped his finger to his chin, "umm."

"What?"

"So he's on the rebound."

"No." She crossed her arms around her chest. "Are you implying there's something wrong with him?"

"Donna, there's something wrong with every man, not just him." He stopped and pondered a little longer. "Hayse huh? The Republican Sex Kitten?" His eyes grew wide as reality set in. "Oh my God, he's a Republican, isn't he."

Donna started to blush and shrugged. "But he's a nice one."

"There's no such thing! Where's your sense of party loyalty? You are a Democrat aren't you?"

"You're being irrational."

He huffed, "But I'm not the one sleeping with a Republican." Donna rolled her eyes, this man was clearly insane. She had heard rumors that with extreme power comes extreme insanity. She crumbled a ball of paper and threw it at his head. He blinked in shock as it rebounded and she caught it with the same hand. With one fluid motion she threw the paper ball over Josh's head and it landed in the trash can behind him. Josh's eyes followed the ball until it reached its' final destination. "Betcha you couldn't do that again." The second ball landed just as perfectly.

Donna raised her eyebrow in that age old temptation, "Betcha you couldn't do that."

So the Great Trash Can Basketball Challenge was on! In the beginning it was free throws, no one's foot could cross the imaginary line created by shadow Donna's desk leg cast on the floor. However as the game increased, Josh started blocking her shots (after all she was beating him by three points) According to Josh the score was 25 to 21 in Donna's favor. According to Donna it was 28 to 21, but he claimed her foot crossed the line on the last three shots and they didn't count. They were in the middle of the heated and friendly debate when Josh's pager went off.

"Damn, it's the Situation Room." He glared down at his beeper, hating it. He looked up at her, as if maybe she would let him stay longer if he asked. Honestly this was the most fun he had since entering the White House.

"You should go. The President is going to need you." She smiled, but didn't really want him to go. However if the President was left unchecked, no good could come from that either.

He nodded and headed back, "I'll stop by later to check up on Sam."

"He's in good hands." She smiled sweetly.

The Sit Room took much longer than he expected and with all the paperwork and calls he had to make, it wasn't until 2:00 in the morning he finally made his way back to EEOB.

He smirked seeing Sam asleep on desk, his finger pressed one key on his laptop. Current his MS Word document had 256 pages of the letter "Q". Josh wandered around the office until he found Donna, at her desk rubbing her eyes. Her trashcan was overflowing with paper balls.

"Donna, go home." He said quietly, so he didn't startle her.

"I've got one more page to edit then it can be shipped over to State."

"It can wait, do it in the morning."

"It's going to take me 30 minutes to get home anyway and the entire ride home all I'll be doing is thinking about this last page. And I have class…"

"30 minutes? Where do you live?"

"Rockville"

He thought it over for a second, "How about this, I've got Sam a hotel room; I'll get you one too. You can finish the last page and be asleep in twenty minutes."

"I don't have a change of clothes." She argued.

"I find it very hard to believe you don't keep a spare set here in the office."

She did, it was in Toby's office. She didn't like being defeated, but on the other hand a warm bed did sound good.

"Can it be my prize for kicking your ass?" She smirked coyly at him.

"Four points isn't an ass kicking…"He muttered. "Fine whatever."

Josh gathered Sam and Toby from the conference room. Both exhausted men grumbled.

She stood in the doorway waiting for them, a Secret Service Agent followed next to her. "What are you going to do Josh?"

"Sleep on his office couch like he does every night," mumbled Sam. Josh started to follow them out but Donna insisted he turn around and go to sleep, he was just as tried as the rest of them, he was just better at hiding it. Josh watched as she led the men out of the building and she gave him a sweet backward glance and a wave. It would be two more years before he would see her again.

Caught in an old memory it takes me a moment to recover, "you were back during the hearings, why didn't you stay."

The pride disappears from his face. "I was Dr Frankenstein and I unleashed a monster onto the county. I wasn't ready to come home yet."

I hate the look of despair on his face and I find myself redirecting the conversation. "Oh, I thought it was because you lied to Congress. You told them we had only met three times and the second time we played Trash Can Basketball."

"That's true." He smiles.

"Yeah but you lied about the score. 25- 21."

He stands up and throws his hands in the air. "YOUR FOOT WAS OVER THE LINE. YOUR LAST THREE POINTS DIDN'T COUNT!"

I smirk, knowing full well I've got him. "If that's true than the score was 25-14, you're first seven points were over the line."

He stares and blinks at me, "you knew about that?"