"Ready to go?"
Josh's voice in my ear startles me.
I turn around to face him, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne. "Can we?"
"The President said we could go whenever." He nods in Bartlet's direction to emphasis his point.
Following his gaze, mine settles on the First Lady standing at her husband's side with a small smile on her face as she looks over at us.
I return hers gratefully before bestowing mine on Joshua. "Then let's get out of here."
Easier said than done. We're on the far side of the room from the doors and every three or four feet someone stops Josh to talk.
"Ah, the lovely Donnatella Moss."
Ah, the obnoxious John Marbury. I'm standing off to the side of a group of bureaucrats who seem to have swallowed Josh whole. I'm also trying not to be irritated, I know he's trying to worm his way out of there.
"Your Lordship." I give him a strained smile. I don't care for the man. He strikes me as slimy, but I can be polite.
"May I offer you a drink?" He holds up a glass of white wine.
"Thank you, but I can't."
"Why on earth not?"
"I'm expecting," I explain the obvious, my eyes still searching for Josh.
He stops and takes a closer look at me, as if he's never seen a pregnant woman before. "Josh told me you two are getting married, he didn't say anything about attempting to repopulate the species."
***
It takes me way too long to free myself from the pack of blowhards intent on rehashing the entire day's meetings. Donna is standing next to John Marbury, looking bored and slightly impatient.
"Sorry," I whisper in her ear, slipping up behind her and resting my hands on her hips.
"Ah, Joshua," Marbury starts in before Donna can say anything. "Your beautiful fiancée was just telling me additional congratulations are in order."
I must look a bit confused, because he keeps rambling. "The baby, young man, the baby! Congratulations!"
"Thank you, sir. If you'll excuse us" I trail off and gesture towards the door, indicating we're heading out.
"Of course. I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow night at the play." He kisses Donna's hand, slaps me on the shoulder and staggers off in search of more booze.
"The play?" I ask, guiding Donna out of the reception hall.
She nods, possessively wrapping an arm around my waist while we wait for the elevator. "Prime Minister Smyth's wife and Dr. Bartlet have arranged a thing for tomorrow night."
My groan sounds in concert with the elevator's ding.' I fear the power of the International Sisterhood.
"I swear I haven't done anything!"
***
Josh looks decidedly unhappy as we enter the empty elevator. He pushes the floor button with barely constrained annoyance. I'm tempted to tell him what we're doing tomorrow night while everyone else is being punished, but I decide to just grope him instead.
"Donna!" Josh yelps, but instead of pushing my hand away he covers it with his own.
We stand in the corner of the car just staring into one another's eyes. I can see the brown color of his irises deepen.
Our lips come together almost of their own accord, Josh runs his free hand over my cheek. We guiltily jump apart when the elevator dings again and an elderly couple joins us. I stand with my back to Josh, leaning against him, effectively hiding his arousal. We're gradually getting used to public displays of affection in professional situations, but groping is still a no-no.
***
I'm going to die in this fucking elevator if it doesn't hurry the hell up. Donna is not helping, swaying her hips against me like she is.
If she doesn't stop, I'm going to have a wet spot before we get to the room.
"You're killing me, Donnatella," I breathe into her ear as the car finally stops on our floor. I nod at the Secret Service agents in the hallway; most of whom just smirk back.
I think I hear the phrase booty call' more than once as we walk past.
***
Josh seems a little more in control when we get to our suite. I head for the bathroom, leaving him to stare at the room service cart containing strawberries, whipped cream and hot fudge.
I see him pick up a note. "Who is it from?"
"Zoey," he calls. "She says we should try not to repeat last year's performance."
Josh pulls his tie down, joining me in the bathroom. "You look beautiful tonight. I'm sorry it took me so long to get out of there."
"It's okay. You've made a bunch of new friends over here," I tease him.
"No one I really want to talk to," he insists, undoing the zipper on my dress. We lift it over my head together. Discarding it, Josh runs his hands down my arms.
"Who do you really want to talk to?" I lean back against his chest, making eye contact in the mirror.
He undoes my bra next. "You."
The feel of his lips on my collarbone sends shivers through my body.
"Dad said he got an offer on Grandpa's farm," I tell him, distractedly.
His hands on my bare hips are almost all I can concentrate on. I started wearing thigh-high nylons a couple of weeks ago for comfort and went without panties tonight to facilitate this specific activity.
"From who?" Josh asks, turning me to face him.
He drops to his knees before me, flicking his tongue around my belly button. His hands caress my extended stomach, coming to rest on either side.
"He wasn't sure. A lawyer from Milwaukee called him. Said his client would meet the asking price and wanted to close the first weekend in March."
It's tempting to just forget about the farm and succumb to Josh's attentions. His hands have drifted in opposite directions while he continues kissing and nipping at my stomach.
"At least you'll be able to meet whoever it is." Josh eventually replies, looking up at me with those deep, brown eyes.
"What do you say we not have sex in the bathroom?" I hint.
Josh leers at me. "Wanna do it on the coffee table again?"
"Ooo, the coffee table!" I giggle, suddenly remembering the room service cart. "Go lie down on it."
He looks ready to protest, but just shrugs and complies with my request. Our sexual obsession with coffee tables has pretty much reached complete weirdness in the past year.
***
I finally open my eyes to see her above me, smiling down. Her eyes are filled with love and I reach for her hands.
"Josh?" Donna finally speaks.
"Yeah?"
"We should probably get up before"
***
CRACK!
Before I can finish the sentence, it happens. Some kind of Valentine's Day hex finds Josh flat on his back, naked, amid the crushed ruins of yet another coffee table with me standing over him.
"Before what, Donnatella?" Josh starts to laugh. "Before we destroy another piece of furniture?"
"Are you okay?" I giggle. His laughter at the situation is contagious.
"Yeah, you?"
My yeah' is lost to the pounding on the door. "Mr. Lyman?"
"Everything's fine!" Josh calls to the agent who must have heard the racket.
"You wouldn't mind opening the door would you, sir?"
I scramble into the bathroom, throwing Josh his boxers.
***
As soon as I get my shorts on, I open the door, running my hands through my hair. The truth is probably my best explanation. "The coffee table wasn't structurally sound."
The agent's eyes widen in amusement as she considers my post-coital appearance.
I look down.
There's whipped cream in the shape of Donna's butt on my stomach.
"I'll make sure we get things taken care of before the hotel staff cleans in the morning." The young woman is biting her lip, trying not to laugh out loud.
"We'd appreciate it."
"Good night, sir."
"Good night." I close the door and turn around see Donna standing in the doorway of the bathroom, wearing my dress shirt.
"Those boxers just make me want to jump you right there." She says, sauntering towards the room service cart and picking out a strawberry.
"Buttercup's a real turn on, huh?" I walk towards her, both of us ignoring the remains of the coffee table. I stop a hair's breadth from her, smelling my cologne mingling with her perfume. Donna slowly dips the strawberry into the heated fudge before offering it to me. I take a bite and then kiss the palm of her hand with my chocolate covered lips.
"Let's go to bed," Donna suggests.
***
We relax on the king-sized bed, feeding each other fudge-dipped strawberries until they're gone and then making love again. I did some research on positions we'll need to use in a month or two, so we try out one of them.
A cramp in my leg tells me I'm going to need to increase my flexibility for any of these to work. I'm lying on my side with Josh behind me and a pillow supporting my abdomen.
When we've finished, I'm content to simply roll over and mold myself to his body, sinking into his arms.
Resting my head on Josh's chest, I indulge in my favorite cuddling activities: tracing his scars with my fingertips and listening to him breathe. In the quiet of the night, I'm almost asleep when I feel something flitter inside me.
***
Donna suddenly tenses in my arms. "What's wrong, babe?" I yawn, trying to re-supply my brain with oxygen.
"I felt it move." Her voice is filled with awe.
From the books I'm reading, I know, logically, I won't be able to feel anything for another couple of months, even though Donna can. Logic doesn't stop me from pressing my hand to her stomach.
Rolling Donna on to her back, I wiggle down to give the little bear a kiss and wish it good night. She gave me the new ultrasound picture before we went to the reception. You still can't tell if it's a boy or a girl, but at least you can tell it's a baby now.
I've thought up three or four names for a girl. My favorite is still Katherine Eileen, after both our paternal grandmothers. I've got one boy's name in mind, but I'm keeping a secret. On the odd chance we break the familial traditions and have a boy, I want to surprise her.
Donna swears if they don't let her have a C-section, she wants to be drugged out of her mind. I figure I'll have the birth certificate filled out before she can put up a fight, either way.
Also, since we're not sure of the gender, we keep referring to it as the little bear. We agreed we don't give it any kind of prenatal complex.
Donna's newest thing is insisting the kid is going to be late, based on the fact that I can't be on time for anything. Lying with my head resting on her stomach, I spend the next fifteen minutes talking to my kid.
I heard a rumor that CJ and Carol are starting a baby pool and I'm hell bent to win it. One of my strategies is repeatedly suggesting a date to the bear. Trying to convince it to be like its mom — early to everything.
Now if I can just figure out when I turned into a complete sap
***
Josh is talking to the bear, encouraging it to not be late. He is such an utter wuss about this. The big, bad, cold-hearted politician totally wrapped around the still developing finger of a fetus.
If his political adversaries could see this, they'd probably die of shock. If Leo or any of the guys could see this, they'd never let him live it down. I don't even want to think about what CJ would say.
Never in a million years would I have imagined Josh to get this freakish over us having a baby. He is all over picking out names. He floated a couple of them by me before he left for the summit and they weren't weird or anything.
I'm seriously considering foisting the job off on him completely; I'm terrible at deciding on names.
The warmth of Josh's breath on my stomach along with the beat of his heart against my hip lull me to sleep before I realize how tired I am.
***
Rustling cotton against my chest awakens me as the travel alarm clock goes off. Donna fell asleep wearing my shirt and, as always, she beat the alarm clock up.
If she was hoping to motivate me into getting out of bed with the kiss she's presently giving me, she is sorely mistaken.
***
Josh is downright jovial this morning when they join the rest us for breakfast. Donna is also looking much happier than she has in the past month.
Nobody should have as much sex as these two do.
"What's the matter, CJ?" Toby slides into the chair next to mine.
He follows my gaze to the happy couple at the buffet. "Ah. Rather saccharine, aren't they?"
"I think I'm just jealous. How often do you think they do it?"
"According to the Secret Service, they broke a coffee table last night." Sam interjects, sitting down on my other side, joining the conversation.
"Having sex?" Toby's incredulous question mingles with my disbelieving "another one?"
Toby turns his raised eyebrow to me. "Another one?"
***
I can tell I'm interrupting something when I sit down opposite CJ. She and Sam instantly start talking about baseball. Something neither of them cares about.
"Um, guys? It's February. Spring training doesn't even start for another two weeks." I wave a forkful of scrambled eggs in the air between them.
Toby is just shaking his head at the two of them. "Get a clue," he growls before turning to me. "So, Josh, what's the mysterious thing on the itinerary tonight?"
I shrug. "I don't know. Marbury said something last night about a play, but Donna won't tell me what it is."
"A play?" Sam groans.
"Something the First Lady set up." To be honest, I could care less. After three weeks in London, all I want is to make it through the next twenty-four hours, get on Air Force One and go home to my own bed.
***
"The Full Monty?" The look on Leo's face is priceless. He's staring at the theater marquee like it might bite him.
"This is why we fear our women." I mutter to the equally horrified-looking British Prime Minister while tugging at the collar of my tux. This wasn't just a spur of the moment thing, because I didn't bring my tux to London. Zoey delivered it after the summit sessions were over today. Dr. Bartlet planned this in great detail.
"Josh?" Dr. Bartlet calls from near the door of the theater where she's standing with Mrs. Smyth, CJ, Zoey and Donna.
"Yes, ma'am?" I head over, unconsciously wrapping my arm around Donna's waist. She's wearing a stunning wine-colored dress I haven't seen her in before.
"You and Donna are excused from this little exercise in negative reinforcement. Neil and Angela," she points to two Secret Service agents, "are driving you to dinner and a night at The Savoy. Away from the rest of us."
***
Josh looks like I'm speaking Greek.
"Ma'am?"
"I didn't stutter, Josh. Consider it your birthday present from my jackass of a husband. Now go, have a good time. Just take it easy on the coffee tables." I shoo them into the waiting limo before turning to Jed, who is looking as confused as his Deputy Chief of Staff. "You are a five-star jackass and to pay for it, you and your staff will be subjected to an evening of contemporary musical theater. Minus the victims of your jackassedness."
"Abbey, men get naked in this thing," Leo protests from his place at Jed's side. Colin Smyth, Sam and Toby look equally distressed.
I sweep past the five of them into the theater. "I'm going to need a front row seat then."
Behind me, I hear Zoey snickering. "It could be worse. She was trying to get tickets to something called Cock Talk'."
***
Josh is still looking confused when we climb out of the limo at the hotel; he hasn't said anything since we left the theater.
"What's going on, Donna?" He finally asks as the Secret Service agents escort us through the lobby.
"I'm not 100% sure," I admit. "But I think it starts with Jack Norris not having a heart attack."
"WHAT?!"
"Evidently, Jack Norris didn't have a heart attack. Leo used it as an excuse to send you over here, because the President felt you needed some foreign policy experience. Dr. Bartlet found out and got a little hacked off. Her idea of revenge involved forcing Leo to bring me along this weekend and dragging the staff to see a musical, while setting us free for a romantic evening. She told me it was to make up for you being over here on your birthday. I didn't know anything about it until after we got here."
"I heard there was a diabolical plot."
I'm not sure if he's referring to what we're talking about right now or something else.
"There are many diabolical plots, Joshua."
We trade smiles with the maitre de, who ushers us into a private dining room complete with a string quartet.
"Wow," is all I can say.
"She was really pissed." Josh decides as he pulls my chair out for me.
***
Dinner was amazing. Donna and I talked about nothing and everything, something we haven't had a chance to do in a while. We were able to reconnect and I remembered again why I so desperately want to marry this woman and spend the rest of my life with her. Not to mention have a bushel of kids with her.
"I love you," I murmur into her hair. We're looking out the window of our moonlit suite at the Thames River. I'm standing behind her, my chin resting on her shoulder and my arms around her waist.
"There's a coffee table over there."
"Very funny, Donnatella."
"Thirteen days, Joshua."
"Is there anything left to do?"
"No, our mothers took care of everything over the phone. Sam and Matt Skinner are planning your bachelor party, by the way."
"God save me. Who's doing your bachelorette party?"
"CJ and Margaret."
"At least you'll get strippers."
"I thought men didn't like strippers," she teases me.
"I might have been lying." I admit, my fingers finding the zipper of her gown.
***
I turn in his arms to face him, locking my hands around his neck and playing with the curls on his neck.
"Lying? My man? Lie to me?" I tease.
"I wasn't your man back then," he replies, huskily.
"You were hot to trot after Joey Lucas."
"You were telling me to gather rosebuds, if I'm not mistaken." He displays his dimples for me, distracting my attention while he slowly unzips my dress.
"I was misdirecting you." My gown falls to the floor, leaving me naked except for my heels.
"Built-in bra?" Josh's knowledge of women's clothing has come a long way in the past 15 months.
"You know it, baby."
His eyes follow me as I saunter over to the bed, step out of the heels and lie down.
***
Donna raises her eyebrows at my fully-clothed appearance. My eyes lock on her vivid blue ones, promising her everything I have to offer.
Including my Chippendale's impersonation.
The jacket goes first. I slowly undo the button and let it slide from my body to join her dress on the floor. Taking two steps forward, I ditch the slick soled shoes. I take my time unbuttoning my shirt, carefully removing the cufflinks. The tie is next: undone, but still strung around my neck.
Donna is sucking on her finger; our eyes still locked on one another.
I undo my pants and in one swift motion shed my suspenders and step out of the trousers.
***
Josh is standing before me in his tuxedo shirt, tie and the irreverently named I'm gonna get some' boxers from last Valentine's Day. With a growing smirk, he strips off the shirt and shorts before joining me on the bed, naked and aroused.
"I think you just turned yourself on there, buddy." I say before capturing his lips with mine.
"I think you do this to me."
***
A glance at the clock near the bed tells me it's 2 a.m. and I'm wide-awake. Donna is curled on her side, snoring softly.
Cautiously getting out of bed, I slip on my boxers and grab some briefing notes out of my bag. Sprawling into a chair by the window, I open a folder to start going through the domestic stuff that has piled up in my absence.
***
Waking up, I unconsciously reach for Josh. Finding only empty space beside me, I sit up and look at the clock. 6 a.m. We need to get up and going, there are some final ceremonies this morning and then we leave for home at noon.
Josh is asleep in a chair by the window, briefing notes scattered around him. I pick everything up and reach for the folder on his chest.
"What?!" Josh jerks awake when I take the folder.
"It's 6 a.m. We need to get showered and dressed."
Instead of getting up, Josh pulls me into his lap and together we watch the skies begin to change from a deep, pre-dawn blue to the first pinks of the sunrise. A knock at the door finally interrupts our momentary bliss and reminds us there is work to be done and a country to run.
At least for another week. Then the real fun begins.