Author's note:

Sorry one day late, but I got a lot less writing done that I wanted to over the holiday. Stupid Flu! Anyway I don't really love this chapter- it's my first attempt at smut and not a whole lot happens. Josh and Donna go one a date and have sex, the end. I cut out a lot of the smut part, mostly because I didn't know was a lot on the websites I'm posting. But if you're interesting in the extra stuff, e-mail me and I'll send it to you. Deal. When I get my website up and running (Don't hold you're breath- it took me four years to figure out Pong) it will be on the website too.

Thanks a billion to everyone who left feedback and enjoy the chapter.

Josh POV

It was the longest four hours of my life. Seriously, horrible time stopped moving all together and at one point I could have sworn my watch hands moved backwards. I've been bouncing on my heels for at least an hour now, begging Sam to let me go up to her cabin. He informs me I don't want to look too desperate. I inform him for me it's too late. Sam sits on my bed watching TV while I check and recheck myself in the mirror.

"Do I look ok?" My hair is sticking all over the place.

"Do I look like a chick?" Sam's eyes never leave the TV screen.

"A little bit." Sam throws a pillow at me and goes back to channel surfing. "I just want everything to be perfect," I whine.

"According to Donna isn't this, like, your fifth date? Time to drop the masks and show her who you really are."

"I want her to still like me." I check my watch one more time, "Can I go and pick her up now?"

"Wait." Sam gets up and gives me a once over. "You look presentable." He pulls a small box out from God knows where, "Here." and shoves it into my pocket. Is this what I think it is? "Be careful tonight." Yep. Gee, now that's a best friend; a man who will threaten you in the morning if you hurt her, then buy you condoms.

Donna's POV

I check my hair for a third time; it's pulled up, exposing the most of my neck as possible. I think he likes my neck. I'm wearing a freshly purchased dress, thanks to Jackson's gold card, and new lacy underwear, thanks to my ATM card.

"Do I look ok?"

CJ looks away from her puzzle for a second, "Hot Damn Donna! You're getting some tonight!"

"Not really the reaction I was expecting, but I'll take it."

There's a knock at the door. CJ jumped up and ran to the door before I can get to it. It swings up and Josh takes a step back. "What time are you going to have her back home, Josh?"

"Whenever I feel like it?" He pretends not be afraid of CJ but fails, "By midnight."

CJ pats him on the head and pushes her way into the hallway, "Good answer."

I stand in the doorway waiting for some reaction from Josh. His jaw opens but no words come out.

My left arm crosses my body and I rub my right arm, "um, hi."

"You look pretty."

"Pretty?"

He rubs his head trying to come up with a better word. "You're a vision of beauty."

"Better." I smile at him and take him by the arm. We walk through the ship arm in arm, Curtis and Simon are on duty tonight, but they hang back giving us space. We make small talk, filling each other in about the events of the day. Him: Basketball with Sam and watching "The Sandlot" on TV. Me: Shopping, lunch and more shopping. I would have rather been with him, which I admit quietly.

Rather proudly he questions, "Really?"

"Yeah."

"I wanted to be with you too, cause you're cooler than Sam anyway."

"I know." I rest my head on his shoulder for a second as we leave the ship and walk through the Island. Lights are provided by stars, the moon and a large array of white Christmas lights. We walk in comfortable silence until we reach a small restaurant. It's one of those restaurants with ten tables, small portions of overpriced food, but it was the easiest place the Secret Service could secure. The gesture doesn't go unnoticed.

"It's nice."

"Thanks." Josh flashes his dimples at me. We're seated instantly; menu's presented and drinks orders taken: white wine for me, red for him.

"Do you have any plans for tomorrow?" I ask.

"The ship's casino is having a poker tournament Sam and I are going to enter."

"Sam's a crappy poker player. You should have no problem taking his money." I smile at Josh.

"Yeah, I used to play in a game in DC with the head of the CIA, the Speaker of the House and a bunch of cabinet members, senators and congressmen. I got several bills passed thanks to that poker game."

"Yeah, I know, I was the one who took your seat." I say as I sip my wine. He blinks a few times trying to comprehend my words, shakes it off and continues.

"I'm not too worried about my place in a cruise ship tournament. I just didn't want Sam to feel like I was blowing him off or anything."

"Good, I didn't want to get in the way of your male bonding with your best friend."

He smiles at me and places his hand over mine, "We've bonded quite enough, besides you're prettier than Sam."

"Gee, I don't know, Sam's awfully pretty." I push around my salad for second, before asking, "So are you excited about the wedding?"

He looks at me blankly before the light bulb goes off, "Sam and Ainsley's?"

"Well, you are the best man. Are you nervous about giving the speech?"

He shakes his head, "Naw, I'm more worried about the marriage."

"Why?"

Now it's his turn to push his salad around his plate and he shrugs, "they seem to fight a lot."

Hmm. "It not really fights. It's debating loudly."

"She's just so different from him." Josh's concern is understandable; he didn't watch their relationship grow and change.

"When it comes down to the important things, the big things, they always agree; friendship, loyalty, they support each other.'

"I'm just worried she's not going to get what she's looking for." He states rather cryptically.

"You think Ainsley's after his money?"

He shrugs, "I don't know, I just don't see them lasting. It would be a quick way for her to make some money."

I raise my eyebrow. "Ainsley's my best friend. While I can see your concern I'll fill you in one a little secret. After she left the White House she made Junior partner at NY's second largest law firms. Her annual salary nearly doubled Sam's. She took a leave of absence to come work for the VP during the scandal and Congressional Investigation, two weeks into it, her boss called and told her never to come back. Ainsley gave up nearly $900,000 a year and never looked back. Josh, she's not hurting for money. "

Everything for the next day was in one and twos. One memo. One train ride. One tape recording. One coffee shop. One muffin. Two folders. Two cups of coffee. Two phone calls. Two lawyers. Donna pushed her hair back as she approached the table. One embrace from Ainsley, one handshake from Sam.

"Thank you for coming."

Sam smiled, "I have to say I was a little surprised to hear from Toby Zeigler's assistant."

Donna sweetly answered, "He enjoyed working with you on the State of the Union two years ago. But that's not why I asked you here."

"I didn't think so," frowned Sam.

Donna took a deep breath, recalling the events of two months ago. "I have to tell you a story and I'm not over-selling it by admitting this might change the course of history. If you want to walk away, now is the time." If the moment hadn't been so serious, Donna might have been amused by her Mulder-like delivery. Sam and Ainsley both nodded for her to continue. Donna words were even, clear, as she recounted the events which sent her into the oval office. The way his hand felt when he touched her, how she struggled with the panic button, the agents bursting on the scene. She handed Ainsley the police and hospital reports. Ainsley's eyes moved slowly over the papers and her fingers had long stopped picking at the muffin in front of her.

Sam cleared his throat, "I don't understand. It happened two months ago, why now?"

"I have many reasons for waiting." She pulled out a folded sheet of paper and pushed it toward Sam. "This is one of them." Sam read it contents; the color drained from his face. Sam had been on the edge of rage for a while now, but this pushed him over.

"Did he really say this?"

"Yes. Danny's running with it tomorrow, I think you should contact Josh and his mother at the very least." Sam nodded, eyes filled with betrayal, as if the words were said about him. Donna knew how he felt, after all, it was the reason she was risking her whole world.

"Are there any other reasons why?"

Her brow furrowed in fear, her eyes raged with indignation, her head high and brave, "There were others. Other women." She paused as Sam grappled with the idea, "It isn't right, the rules and laws apply to everyone, including the President of the United States. I don't know why the others haven't come out yet. Maybe they are feeling intimidated. Maybe it takes one woman with a silent army behind her to make the rest join the fight."

Sam was sold.

Ainsley continued her study of the reports, Donna words were heard but not listened to.

Donna spoke quietly, "It's not fair for me to ask you for your help, it could end up costing you everything, and I don't have a lot of money…"

Ainsley spoke for the first time, "Donna, pay for the coffee and I'll do this for free," she looked up and made eye contact with Sam as well.

Both Sam and Ainsley stood beside Donna as she addressed the press for the first time. Ainsley lost her job, Sam lost his fiancée, Lisa. They were on a long road of loss but in the end there would be two large gains.

Josh's POV

Donna seems so confident in Ainsley. I guess I should believe her. She did witness their relationship first hand. When she speaks she states the dark truth and my own fears, "I think you are not very good at sharing, Josh. You probably didn't like Lisa, but put up with her because you knew she wasn't going to stick around anyway. But Ainsley is a rock, the real thing. You're afraid Sam's going to replace you."

My God has she been talking to my therapist?

"I'll let you in a on a little secret. I don't think Sam would have gotten a tattoo for Ainsley. Your friends are loyal to you Josh. They might not be standing next to you the whole time, but they would walk through hell for you if you asked."

How does she do that, know what to say to me, comfort me when we've just barely met?

Dinner is going much better than I could have expected. She laughs at my jokes, I find reasons to touch her hand, and she steals food from my plate. Dessert is ordered; for me, Crème Brule, caramel cheesecake for her. She leaves one bite on her plate and offers it to me. I stare at the buttery graham cracker crust and back at her. I rub my head and finally speak the truth, "Donna, I don't like cheesecake."

"But you ate some yesterday."

"Yeah, but I wanted you to like me and so I choked it down. I lied and I'm sorry."

She eats the final bite of her desert, "Didn't you learn anything from the Willy Wonka story?"

"Apparently not."

"Have you learned your lesson now?"

"Yep." She moves her fingers over mine. We finish our wine, pay the check and leave. As we leave our finger intertwine, we walk though faux streets covered in sand head toward the beach. There's music playing in the distance from the bar and it filters its way towards us.

As if we share one mind, without a word spoken, we start to dance to the music, the waves keeping rhythm, the moon casting as our spot light. She rests her head on my shoulder, her breath warms my neck. My hands move from her hips to her bare back. I jump from the electric jolt I get when my skin touches her.

"Thanks for the formal invitation," she whispers. "I can't believe Sam remembered."

She starts to play with my hair, her nails gently scratching into my scalp. It's time to start being a little more honest with her. "It wasn't Sam. I remembered. Sam called me before he asked out Ainsley and said that you had a really dorky idea…"

She gasps, "Dorky?"

"His words not mine… to give Ainsley a formal invitation to dinner might help her realize how special she was to him. He said he got the impression you had always wanted to get one. I remember staring out the window, enjoying the Tuscan landscaping thinking that sounded just like you."

She pulls her head from my shoulder and her eyes dance across my face. Her eyes close as she moves in; my lips meet her halfway. It was the prefect amount of lip pressure and wetness technically speaking, it was an ideal kiss. It was the way my stomach dropped and fire shot up my spinal cord that made it the best kiss of my life.

"Jossshhh." She moans lightly, "We need to leave now."

"Where?"

"You're cabin's closer." Oh. OH!

I'm not sure how fast we made it to the ship; I don't think I was sprinting or anything, but somehow, rather magically, we end up back there in record time. The agents back off a little bit, so we ride alone in the elevator. She runs her fingers up and down my arm for a few seconds, trying to get my attention, as if she wasn't what my entire brain was focusing on. I pulled her towards me and kiss her deeply. Yeah, there was no way I was going to be able to hold out the extra three minutes it would take to get back to the cabin.

Her arms wrap around me, under my jacket; her heat is slowly penetrating through my shirt. Our tongues twist and explore the each other's mouth.

I'm so focused on her; I didn't notice the elevator had stopped.

The doors open.

What I did notice was the eighty year old woman and her husband snickering, "Oh, its ok dear, we were once on our honeymoon too. We'll take the next one." I'm pretty sure the old man gave me a thumbs up. Donna buries her head in my chest for a second, laughs, and then kisses my neck. I guess it takes more than that to embarrass her.

I swear to God this is the longest hallway ever created. How the hell do you work these stupid key cards away? Red light, red light, red light and a beep. DAMN YOU! Donna pushes me out of the way and with her magical hand, poof the door is unlocked and opened. I wonder what else she can do with her hands.

There's a moment when we stand awkwardly in the center of the cramped room. Making out in the elevator and hallway were one thing. But here, ten feet away from a bed, makes everything more real, inevitable. I stop and think maybe this isn't a good idea. We could walk away, no fowl.

She points to the bed, "Hey you got a duck!"

Huh? Donna shifts to reveal the towel bird on my bed. "I think it's a swan."

"Really 'cause it looks like a duck." She pokes at it.

"Nope it's a swan."

"Josh, are you really going to sit there and argue with me about this?"

"Maybe, until you admit that it's a swan."

She raises one eyebrow and devilish smirk ebbs across her face, "Well I guess we can't do anything else but argue about your towel animal." She touches her shoulder, fingers playing with her dress strap.

"It's a duck." I cough out, tension broken, she steps forward and starts to play with my tie.

We kiss. I'm going to go on a brief tangent here, but kissing Donna Moss is the best thing I've ever done in my life. Her lips are light and sweet, but once you get past that, press a little harder, her lips turn passionate, wet and even taste a little different. A part of me thinks I could spend the rest of the trip simply kissing her and I would be happy.

Of course if she's this good at kissing… why be happy when I could be euphoric?

She works my tie off as I remove my jacket our lips never breaking part. She throws my tie on the ground like she's defeated some great beast and smiles at me triumphantly. I find myself smiling back at her before launching an assault on her neck with my mouth. She moans my name. Suddenly, we're both wearing too much clothing.

She seems to have come to the same conclusion as she feverishly unbuttons my shirt. Shortly after I stand before her shirtless she kisses my neck and her hands work over my chest. She lightly drags her nails over my skin sending electric pulses though my body.

I turn my attentions away from myself and on to her. I need to touch her, bare skin on bare skin. I hold her shoulders and guide her back up my body until we are back at eye level, Wrapping one arm around her waist and the other at the base of her skull my tongue enters her mouth. Her knees buckle a little and she falls into me. My hand presses firmly on her not- as- naked- as -I –would- like- back, and works downwards as I pull the zipper down with it.

Donna's dress falls gracefully like water on glass to the ground. I take a step back to enjoy the view. I have to blink a few times to fully comprehend the image. Her skin is so white it nearly glows when she stands in the moonlight. Her black lacy bra and equally lacy underwear deeply contrast her skin. With one motion she touches her head and her hair comes cascading down around her. Her blue eyes search me for some sigh of approval. My eyes grow wide and she lies down on the bed and I quickly follow.

I read once that men are visual creatures while women are auditory. It makes sense, I can't take my eyes off of her, while she closes her eyes, blocking out everything else, content to listen to me. I'm fascinated by her skin, my skin, the way my hand looks caressing her stomach.

I think men are visual because by nature we aren't as trusting as women. I can see her skin, I can touch it. I know she's real. Words, however, are intangible and often impossible to believe. It is an interesting contrast that while civilization needs to trust in words in order to function, words can be falsified, twisted.

"How long have you wanted this?" She asked between kisses.

Words. They linger in the air, you can never retract them, and they can crush and build just as easily. I lie and say, "Since the Inaugural Ball." See, how easy that was. The early part of every relationship is in fact a series of small lies surrounded by the best facts you're willing to tell. If I told Donna the truth, how long I've really wanted her, one of several actions might occur.

1) She would find it appealing and endearing but not likely.

2) She would collect her clothes and haul ass out of here

3) She would question my sanity and then collect her clothes and haul ass out of here.

Returning to my point, every relationship starts with a small lies here and there, but it's the strength of the relationship, the trust, that makes you tell the truth. My example is the cheesecake.

She smiles up at me, "Really, you didn't find me charming prior to then?"

"Of course not," Caught in my second lie, she laughs at me. "You? How long?"

"Trashcan basketball."

"Really? But you were with Cliff."

"We broke up a few days afterwards. By the time I finished licking my wounds; Amy was already in the picture. It's fine, you found love."

Words. Powerful and painful, and the only way to get to the truth. The question is how much do I trust Donna? How long will it before I tell her the truth?

She pulls me close to her, wrapping her legs around me. I kiss her neck and work my way south, kissing at the lacy fabric that is trapping her breasts. The bra's detail isn't soft and smooth like the rest of Donna's skin, and while it does look neat I want her and only her.

The bra is thrown and lands on top of the towel ducks head.

I taste her right breast, while my hand cups and squeeze her left one. Her breathing deepens as kissing turns to sucking. While her body rises to grant me more access her hands work at my belt.

With some effort I manage to wiggle out of my pants and break my bond with her breast. Her body is becoming flushed and blushed.

I look up at her eyes, asking if I can go farther without saying the words. She bites her lower lip and nods. I'm about to lose it right then.

Donnas POV

Reluctantly I get up out of the bed, feeling alive and warm as I make my way to the bathroom. I look in the mirror and see a woman I've never met before. She looks like me, but different, satisfied. Whole. I run the water so he can't hear me cry. For the first time in nearly two years, I feel like a woman.

When I crawl back into bed with him he cocoons me with his arms. I start to breath following the pattern he set forth. He whispers in my ear, "I lied earlier."

"About the cheesecake." My voice reflects the smile on my face.

But his tone is serious, "I lied twice."

I swift my weigh to look at him, his forehead creased eyes uncertainty. "I never loved Amy. She was just something I thought I was supposed to do; find a wife, get married, get divorced. I liked her, I guess. We fit and made sense professionally, but looking back I never loved her."

It takes a second for me to fully understand that statement, for me to comprehend the way his life and mind must have been at the time. I roll over and place my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat, creating a connection. I really don't know what to say about Amy.

"I didn't like her much anyway." That's the best I can do. He smiles down at me and kisses my forehead. "What was the second thing you fibbed about?"

He breathes deep, buying time. "Remember when you forced Toby to order a salad at the meeting on the campaign trail?"

"Yeah."

"About a millisecond after I found myself ordering a salad I really didn't want to eat was when that I realized I wanted you."

Six years! He wanted me for six years! I thought I was the only one who… "Why didn't you say anything, call or something?" I ask quietly but my frustration heavy in my voice.

"Because I wanted to keep you safe."

Now I realize the truth, painful and powerful. Josh and I are not alone in this bed. There will always be another person here, fouling up our relationship. He'll be undefeatable unless I, no, we fight him together. If not, it will always be, me Josh and John Hoynes lying in bed together.