Author's note: This is my little holiday gift to you, I'll update most likely on Tuesday. This chapter contains three different POV, Donna telling a story and one flash back. There's a lot going on. Just stick with it, because everything will tie together in the end. By the way, CJ obsession with the sudoku puzzles mirror's my own and I know I can't be the only one. I hope you enjoy! All questions will be answered by the end of the story. Promise!

Thank you to everyone who left feedback.

Happy Holidays!

Toby's POV

There is sand in my shorts. Sand. You know what sucks the most about sand; it never gets out of the crevice. It colonizes, settles and builds a civilization in there that never seems to fall. NEVER! Three months from now, I'll be standing in the Oval office scratching my ass because there's sand in it. Do you know why there's sand in my ass crack… yes, I've upgraded from shorts to ass crack, because of women. Two women, to be precise: Donna and CJ. Donna suggests when we get to this private island, own and operated by the Cruise Company; we head to the far side of the island to check out this beach. Let me give you the amenities list: one bar about a quarter of a mile away, seven beach chairs and water. Oh and a shit load of sand. Still, how could I refuse, Donna asked? She smiled even. Over the years I've become impervious to the pout, but since it had been such a long time since I've seen her smile, I was hooked.

Come on, she made me leave the White House for three weeks while I work things out with Andi. She baby sat my kids and even when she started to work for CJ, although I'm still not sure how that happened, she still edited the speeches and found any research I needed. Oh, and my Dad. There was the thing with my Dad. Yeah, I owe her a lot, so if she smiles at me and asks me to go to some stupid far off beach, fine. If she wants to take one of the only beach chairs, that's fine too.

CJ, on the other hand, she owes me. I found her in California, I offered her a job. I can send her back there. "Yo, CJ get up." She lowers her sunglasses, puts down her Sudoku puzzle and glares at me.

"I'll break you little man." Ok she probably would. So I plop down on the beach and more sand up my crack.

I sit and fiddle with my camera, while CJ works on her puzzle, which she swears is going to catch on and be some big craze in two years and Donna flips through CJ's wedding magazines. Behavior like that might be deemed as certifiable for a single woman in her early to mid thirties, but Donna will end up planning all of CJ's wedding like she did for Ainsley. Donna's the kind of woman that needs constant distractions; tasks to keep her busy, so maybe she won't notice how unfair her life has been.

Of course, she's noticed.

Donna looks away from the magazine, points to one of the boxes on CJ's puzzle and states, "That's a three."

CJ's long stopped arguing with Donna, making her prove her theory and writes a three in the box.

The beach really is secluded, there's five agents milling around in plain clothes. The only way you could tell they are agents is because none of them are wearing a bathing suit. There's a family farther down on the beach, closer to the water and some honeymoon couple on the other side. The beach is cut off by a row of trees; it really is the best place for the agents to secure. With the exception of the lack of chairs, it really is faultless.

Two men emerge out of the water, like Greek gods in their own way. But with flippers and snorkel gear, so they look like dorks. Donna sits up a little bit, even with sunglasses on; I can tell she's staring. She's also starting to blush a little bit. My powers of observation are useful, normally, but now they're kinda creepy.

But she smiles at them, and when they get close, "you found me." She calls out.

"I knew I would." Josh calls back.

I stand and shake out the sand, which won't do any good.

They trudge over, CJ asks while her eyes are glued to the puzzle, "Did you see anything cool?"

Sam's nearly giddy "There was this cool fish getting eaten by an even cooler stingray. It was nature in action!"

CJ placates him, "That's great Sparky."

Donna moves over a little to give Josh room, she won't do that for me. He sits down as she offers him a towel too. Politics!

Josh Lyman might be a master politician but he's not good at subtlety, his eyes haven't left Donna's body since he came over. Smooth, Josh, let her know you're checking her out.

"Are you going swimming?" He asks.

Donna shakes her head, "Nope, bull sharks."

Ok, even I'm lost, "Bull Sharks?"

She nods and continues her train of logic, "Bull sharks are the most deadly sharks in the world, and most people think it's the Great White, but they rarely bit to kill. They make test bites and if it isn't a seal, they'll leave it alone. Bull sharks bite to kill; they live close to the shore; in fresh water and in salt water, nowhere is it safe from them. So unless the water has chlorine and a diving board, I'm not going in." She crosses her arms like it's the final word.

Sam looks back at the water, doubting. "Do you think that big fish we saw was a shark?"

"Um no. No. Definitely not." But Josh's eyes look out to the water too. I don't think they're going back into the water again.

CJ looks up from her puzzle, "Hey Sparky, I didn't know you had a tattoo."

Sam touches his shoulder, "Um yeah, it's not mine."

What?

Donna repeats, "What?"

Josh smirks, "you like it?"

"Um I guess."

"Cause it's mine." Josh smiles.

"Ok you're going to need to fill in some details." CJ adds.

"Well, I was drunk and I wanted a tattoo, Sam came with me to the tattoo shop. I was sitting in the chair and announced that I'm Jewish."

He can't be buried in a Jewish cemetery with a tattoo. Damn, he chooses weird things to be Jewish about.

"Some how I convince Sam to get it for me instead, and he does. I paid for it, took a picture and TADA! I have a tattoo." Josh is awfully proud of himself for some reason.

Sam shrugs, "it seemed like a logical solution at the time."

CJ blinks a few times, "You're codependence on each other is quite disturbing sometimes." Then she returns to her puzzle.

One might question the nature Josh and Sam's relationship. I would have, but I've caught Sam and Ainsley in various states of undress. And the way Josh is looking at Donna and his hand moving up her thigh, no questions there.

There is tenderness in the way Josh whispers something to her; she pushes her hair from her face and giggles. Donna? GIGGLES? I'm going to need evidence of this later to blackmail her. The picture is taken and persevered in digital format.

Like a moving mountain Jackson crosses the beach, standing in the sun, casting his shadow down on them he growls to Josh, "Could you remove your hand from her thigh?"

This is the moment when everything stopped, well not stopped entirely but the events unfold glacier like.

Josh shows every emotion, played out of his face, anger, confusion, and heartbreak. Donna' face mirrors his, her back stiffens and lips purse.

Josh's voice is low, hoarse and weak, "What?"

Jackson doesn't hesitate, "It's been hard enough keeping camera's away from her. You flaunting any type of relationship" he hisses with disgust, "makes my job infinitely more difficult. If you could do your best to stay away from her in public and not draw attention to yourselves, that would be great."

I scan back over the beach. Yet the population hasn't changed. Five agents, one family on the south side and the happy couple on the north side.

"JACKSON!" Hollers Donna.

Josh's eyes grow cold as he withdraws his hand, "Sir, why don't you skip the pleasantries and say what you want to?"

"Donna Moss has a bright political future ahead of her. The less she's seen with you the better. You, Mr. Lyman, are political poison."

Josh's eyes never disengaged, he slowly stands. They stand before each other, titans, gladiators, and stone giants. Jackson has 50 pounds of muscle and six inches on Josh, but from the way he stands, he shows no intimidation.

Donna reaches for Josh's arm in a desperate attempt to disarm the situation. She whispers, "Josh?"

Eye contact and testosterone broken, both titans look down at their muse. Taking risk-benefits analyzes and deeming it's not worth the risk, Josh turns and heads onto the path through the forest.

Donna drops CJ's magazine, evens shielded by her darken glasses, and her eyes burn a path into Jackson's soul. "What the hell was that?" Her composure was starting to melt fast. She stands and puts her skirt thing around her waist, as if she was putting on armor. "I'm a big girl. You don't need to protect every aspect of my life." Jackson opens his mouth to speak, but is silenced by her hand. "In case you were wondering, you crossed the line a mile and half ago. We're done!" She turns on her heels and follows in Josh's footsteps.

CJ takes a deep breath and with certainty she states what everyone else is thinking. Her eyes trace Jackson's body, and in a slow southern draw she smiles, "She's gonna kill you, dead." Then CJ returns to her puzzle.

JOSH POV

My brain has stopped working for a moment. I'm on autopilot, right leg, left leg, sit; order a beer at the out of place tikki bar. I start to peel the label off, almost instantly, of the plastic bottle. Plastic, huh? Makes sense, I can't crack the bottle and slit that guy's throat. Oh and people won't get hurt if it breaks. Ah, paranoid lawsuit phobic tourist industry.

One, two, gulps of beer. Not really as refreshing as I would like. It isn't really clearly my head like I would like either. Too many emotions. Too many daggers laced with salt and lemon juice stabbing at my old wounds.

I feel her before I look up at her. I want to finish peeling all the red off of my label before I'm ready to glance her way.

"Hi." Her voice cuts through the air.

I look up, but say nothing. She pulls her sunglasses off of her face, and timidly sits on the stool next to me. This side of Donna I've never seen. She's always too strong, proud and happy, and this shamefaced Donna is unsettling. Her eyes are filled with pity.

"Hi." Sometimes my voice is hard to control; this is one of those times.

"Josh…I'm so sor..."

"What the hell is going on, Donna?" I snap and she recoils. I've been holding in my rage in too much and rapid release normally makes me feel better, but her reaction, eyes widening, slightly tearing up, her lips quivering. This time I feel like shit. It isn't her fault the Secret Service is a dick, but she isn't telling me why he's here either.

She starts to speak stops and starts again, "Jackson had no right to speak to you like that."

"Why is he even here?"

She pushes her hair back once more, "Death threats. We all got them during the scandal and investigation. It only takes a small group of people make changes; however, it's easy to target them, too. CJ was stalked, Toby found a donkey heart in his car, I received death threats daily. Even Sam and Ainsley received some. Toby, CJ and I were at the center of a firestorm. Whenever we're together, the Secret Service comes around. Nothing too dangerous has happened yet, but its better to be safe than sorry."

My brain can't fully wrap around the idea at first. Donna was only an assistant, right? Why would she be getting death threats?

She sighs and continues, "I need you to understand. Jackson's reaction earlier comes from a very emotional place."

"Emotional?" Oh my god! Did they date? Some sort of passionate affair?

"It's not what you think. It wasn't a love affair gone wrong or something like that." I guess she can read my face. "If you've got a few minutes, there's a story I'd like you to hear?" I nod and she grazes her fingers against mine.

She looks down at our hands before she starts talking, "Do you remember the assassination attempt on Charlie Young?" I nod, of course I do. "The Vice President, a by-stander and an agent were shot. Jackson was the agent. He had fallen behind a wall; no one knows how long he was lying there, until Jefferson found him. Can you imagine the terror he must have felt bleeding on a sidewalk."

She stops talking, her eyes lost in sympatric horror. She shakes it off, "CJ, Toby and I were all at the hospital waiting to hear news about the VP, when Jackson comes rolling in." She leans in, with an embarrassed smile, "what I am about to tell you, you can't repeat to anyone. No one know, not Jackson, not CJ, Toby or even Jefferson. OK."

"Yeah, but it better be good."

"We had been waiting for two hours, fatigue and boredom started to set in because prior to the shooting it had been a very long day. I stood up, walked out of the waiting room, to use the restroom and get a soda. I remember standing in front of the vending machine pondering if I should get diet or regular Coke. By the time I got back to the waiting room, Toby and CJ left to return to the office. They ditched me! I left my wallet back at the office, getting a cab was out of the question and Abby was sitting there tapping her foot, so I didn't feel right leaving her. It wasn't out of some deep rooted kindness which caused me to stayed in the hospital that night, but because I didn't have a ride anywhere else. If you knew me better you would find out stupid things like this is always happening to me.

"Twenty minutes and a half a soda later, Kelly, Jackson's wife, and their two little girls come in to the waiting room, panicking and sobbing, Abby and I started to comfort them. At least now I have something to do. Five hours into the operation the doctor comes in, stating the bullet has done more damage than expected. This was during one of the biggest blood shortages GW has ever faced. The doctor needed to know if Kelly knew of a blood donor. The only reason why I know my blood type, is because in college I signed up for a blood drive so I could continue to flirt with my now ex-husband. Once again more shallow logic infiltrates my mind and controls my destiny. Jackson and I were the same blood type and it wasn't like I was doing anything, hence why Jackson has three pints of my blood in him.

"I really didn't think much of it. In fact, I didn't think anyone knew about it. But a few days later, the Secret Service agents started to smile at me, hold the doors open for me, I became a blip of their radar. They'd whisper, "She's the one that saved Jackson." A few months later I got my own code name. Kelly invited me for Thanksgiving. I was invited to the Secret Service Super Bowl parties and poker night every year. The next thing I knew I had another family. All because everyone thinks I'm really kind and concerned about my fellow man, when in reality, my ride ditched me and I was bored.

"So there you have the truth, I'm shallow and milked it for all it was worth." She tries to get me to smile, but it really doesn't work. She wraps her fingers around mine. "So when the death threats came, all the agents took it personally, but Jackson more so. It doesn't excuse what he said to you, or the way he behaved."

Her story makes sense, but I'm far too irrational. "Are you sure you even want to be seen with me, after all I am 'political poison'." I scoff. She pulls back.

"I'm willing to risk it."

I sip my beer one more time. Not answering her.

She sighs and tries a different tactic, "How about this, let's forget who we are in DC, we're on vacation for the next two days, let's enjoy it! Escape."

"Donna, I've spent a year and a half escaping from who I am in DC."

Her voice catches me off guard, quiet and torn, "Yeah, but I haven't."

Ladies and Gentleman! This is the moment I fall for Donna Moss. It's the deep contrast of her joy and sorrow she shows for her friends. If she's trying this hard to make me feel better, a man she's only really known for a few hours, the angst she must have gone through during the scandal should have been unbearable. Her empathy is overwhelming and her kindness is palpable.

I think I should also mention she looks incredible in her navy blue bikini as well.

"I'm going back to the ship, you wanna come with me?" She stands and rubs her finger tips against my stomach.

"No. I need to clear my head for a while. You go ahead, I'll catch up."

Her eyelids close slowly and she nods, "I understand."

Oh no, she thinks I'm pissed at her. I run my hand up her arm and to her shoulder, standing in the process. My lips touch hers in the best "I Promise You I'll See You Later kiss". Her eyes open when it's over and she smiles, "You taste like salt and beer."

"Must have been all the beer I was swimming in and the salt water I was drinking." I give her a feeble smile. Jefferson is standing on the pathway. "You're entourage is here." She looks over her shoulder and pulls away.

"We're cool right?" She asks with uncertainty.

"Yeah, we're cool." I try to appease her fears, but I'm not really doing such a good job.

I watch her walk away and go back to my beer. I have no clue how long I've been sitting there. I just know I have a choice to make.

I stroll back to the beach, there's a steady path in the sand where Sam's been pacing, he's the first to see me and calls out, "I was going to give you the one hour to cool down, but you came back early."

CJ, still in the same spot I left her in, "by five minutes."

Toby stands shaking the sand off his shorts, "You ok?"

In my hands I hold four beers, extending one to Toby, one to CJ and Sam. I walk over to Jackson who is now sitting in Donna's chair. "Mr. Lyman."

"Josh." I correct him and offer him the final beer. He looks at it, then at me.

"I'm still on duty." He takes the beer. "I want to apologize. My comment was unprofessional and…"

I cut him off, "You were just doing your job. Donna's the kind of woman who cares more about her friends than herself. That's why it's so easy to want to protect her. The past few years must have been hell for all of you. I get it." I look out to the ocean for a second, "Look there are over 37 different eateries between the Island and the ship. Surely one must be private, upscale and easy to secure. I want to take her out tonight on a real date not one of those fake dates she keeps thinking we gone on."

Jackson opens the bottle and takes a sip, "I m sure we can find something like that."

February into March, nearly two years ago.

Donna was dying. Slowly. Not physically, she did seem paler and quieter than normal; she was physically in ideal condition. The fire and light in her eyes faded, and dimmed by the day. She was missing work, sleeping and drinking more. Old insecurities, doubts and fears started to cloak her. Every man doubted her, saw her as weak and flawed, Kevin used it to his advantage, Cliff assumed she was a slut and Jack, well; she was potentially dangerous to his career. That one stung, most likely because the wound was so fresh, with salt and vinegar poured into it. Even Toby, Leo and the VP treated her different now. Pity. Maybe she was pitiful. Everything she touched crumbled, the agents that saved her were "discharged."

Only one man in five years never treated her as if she was weak. Currently he was in Europe, while his former allies blame him for every mistake, soiling his name while their names stayed pristine. The anger grew, but not enough for action. Donna was still too focused on herself.

One Monday morning she found a memo on her desk and to this day, she isn't sure where it came from. It was this motion that made the first domino fall. She read and reread the memo, letting the rage and frustration build. Her indignation could be felt as she rushed into the VP's office. Toby, Leo, CJ and Vice President Bartlet were in the middle of senior staff, when Donna stood in the doorway. Her eyes were blazing and the fire that died a month ago was an inferno.

"I want to crush him." Her voice was quivering ever so lightly. CJ took the memo from Donna's hand, read it, and passed it to Leo. It was no secret, after Leo learned Josh was unemployed he pleaded with his friend's son to come work for him. Josh respectfully declined. Donna's glare matched Leo's. Her voice was a little steadier, "I want him to feel like the hand of God is crushing his soul. What am I going to need?"

Leo answered, "Lawyers."

Donna nodded, "Will I need to quit?"

By this time Bartlet was reading the memo, "There are people who will tell you leaving is your best option. But I will not let you quit or resign, you're family, Donna, and you're going to need us more now than ever before."

Donna went back to her desk and pulled out the business card she had kept in her wallet for years now.

Donna's POV

Jefferson walks me back to the ship, saying nothing. I find minutes of comfort in his silence, he never fumbles for words or fanes interest.

"Aren't you going to lecture me about getting hurt, or leading him on or something?" I ask when we get to my door.

"Nope, I figure you've heard plenty of that."

"So you don't think I'm going to get hurt?"

He smiles, "No Donna, I know you're going to get hurt. But I also think you're young, hot as hell and at the very least you should get laid first."

He makes me smile faintly as he opens the door and I step in. "I'm going to be right outside this door if you need anything." I nod and shut the door behind me.

Ok, I know what you're thinking. You had an out, and you could have told Josh the truth, the whole truth. It would have made everyone else happy, but me and him. So I stayed quiet. I didn't lie to him; everything I said was the truth, with one tiny detail omitted.

I didn't want to lose him, I know that's selfish and childish, but I wanted one break away from who I am, what I've become. I don't feel righteous, just guilty, like I am prolonging the inevitable.

I flop down on the bed as an old feeling takes control of my body. Depression. Body crippling depression. It nearly paralyzed me every night during the investigation, trail and scandal. I would spend hours in the same spot; my thoughts focused on the various ways I was inept.

There's something almost safe, (is that the right word?), about feeling like this. I know it, understand it, it's familiar. Like an old pain in your joints when it rains, you know when it's going to come and how bad it's going to be. Or like your best friend's ex whom, for whatever reason, keeps showing up where you go. No one likes the ex, but he pays for his own dinner and at least you know what you're in for, a night of offensive jokes.

I don't welcome my old non-friend of Depression, but accept him and allow him to share my space. At least it's a known element. Although I do find it unsettling at how fast it hits me, the moment Josh said he needed time to think, BAM! Depression came knocking at my door.

I should ponder why Depression appeared or why Josh was able to trigger him so fast. But I don't. For now I let Depression take over, control my body and let time tick by ever so slowly. I roll over and stare out my balcony window.

I might have dosed off, maybe not, but there is a knock at my door. When I don't rush to answer it, the door opens, someone steps inside. Its Jackson, I don't even need to roll over to see him, I can tell the sound of his walk.

"Hi."

I don't answer.

"Are you not speaking to me?"

I still don't answer.

"Donna I am so sorry, I was out of line and unprofessional."

I roll over to look at him and he sits down on the bed, and picks off some lint. But I remain quiet.

"I'm guessing you didn't tell him."

Silence.

"That's fine, for now. He gave me this for you." He pulls an envelope out of his pocket and places in the space between us on the bed. I sit up, slowly taking control back of my body.

Dearest Donnatella,

I would like to formally invite you to a private dinner at 9 o clock. Attire will be semi-formal, (you should were a dress- I'll wear a suit, we'll look great.) Please send your RSVP through Jackson. I will be bugging Sam until I hear from you.

Love,

Josh

I reread the letter five times. He sent me a formal invitation; he stole the idea from Sam. Sam gave Ainsley a formal invitation for their first date, on my suggestion. I start to blush as I reread for the sixth time. Jackson starts tapping his feet, attention starved.

"Should I tell him you'll be joining him for dinner?"

I nod, but still refuse to speak to the agent.

"Are you going to give the silent treatment forever?"

I glare, giving him no hint either way.

He rubs his head, "Oh come on, this is so much worse! Can't you just yell at me or punish me or something. You're as bad as my wife!"

I remove myself from my bed and head over to the phone and dial, "Hey CJ. Look I've got to go back to the island to buy a dress and sexy underwear you wanna come? Jackson's going to be holding our bags the entire time, hell I think he might even pay for some stuff." I watch Jackson from the mirror; he groans and flops back on the bed.

"Oh come on, Donna. It's not like I punched him or something."

I frown at Jackson, "See you a few minutes CJ."

I turn and start to rummage through my suitcase for clothes; I can't possibly go shopping in my bathing suit.

"Are you going to talk to me at all?" he whines.

I pull out my clothes and before heading into the bathroom I smile and growl, "no."