Chapter 11

That Saturday, Liz, Tom and Mark met at Donna's apartment so they could once again make fun of the number of plants in the living room, having taken to calling Donna 'Plantgirl' a month earlier when they helped move her things in. From there, the four of them took a cab toArlington for a Rock the Vote concert at the House of Blues. The election was in two and a half months, and due to the president's health issues, the polls were showing a very tight race.

The cab driver refused to let anyone sit in the front seat, which meant Liz had to sit on Tom's lap. They had finally begun dating that past winter after years of friendship, their public displays of affection quite nauseating. Once Donna had broken things off with Jeff the following month, Mark had turned the flirting up a notch. She still laughed it off, the arm that tended to drape across her shoulders, the talk of double dates and foursome vacations, the hand that liked to rest on her knee, but she knew he was looking for the four of them to become the next 'I Love Lucy' four-pack. And while he was cute, not hot but cute, and worked as a lobbyist for the EPA, the sparks she felt for him couldn't light a candle, much less a fire.

They walked in, and with the exception of the strobe lights circling the main area and the light from the stage, it was completely dark inside. There were tables and chairs on the sides and in the balcony area, but the main floor was standing only, and it was crowded with college-aged students dancing to a rock band she'd never heard before. The truth was, it wasn't really her scene; the crowds, the noise, the stuffiness, the overall chaos it seemed to be about, but it was something different and she liked a few of the bands listed to perform, so when Tom had suggested it, they'd all agreed, including her.

They stayed towards the back of the crowd, dancing a bit, but mostly just swaying with the music and sweating. Tom stood behind Liz, nearly towering over her small 5'2" frame, holding her around the waist from behind and resting his chin on top of her head, and Donna glanced at the smile on Liz's face and smiled herself. It was nice to see her happy and Donna had enjoyed watching 'The Domestication of Liz Driscoll' over the last several months.

They'd been there for a few hours, pressed up against people and each other, when it really started to take its toll. Her hair was sticking to her face and sweat was trickling down her neck, her feet hurt from the two inch heels that looked great but had been less than practical, and quite the headache was forming from what had to be an unhealthy volume of noise. She turned to Liz and shouted, "Restroom."

Liz nodded. "I'll come too," she yelled back,then kissed Tom and sent him and Mark for beer before following Donna out of the auditorium and into a hallway that, while quieter and cooler, had a ten minute line to the restroom. A glance down the hall confirmed her suspicions that the men's room had no wait at all.

When they finally got inside, Liz headed for a stall while Donna went to the sink and rinsed her face off, then used a paper towel to wipe sweat off her neck. A stall door opened and through the mirror she could see Amy Gardner come out. Donna's eyes widened at the sight of the ridiculously tight tank top Amy was wearing, and wondered if perhaps Amy was confused and thought herself to be an undergrad. Amy walked up to the sink and caught Donna's eyes as she turned on the water.

Donna smiled politely. "Hi."

"Hello," she said neutrally.

"Donna Moss," Donna reminded her, fairly certain she hadn't given as much thought to Donna as Donna had her since finding out she was dating Josh. Even at that moment, standing there as demurely as possible with a fake smile on her face, Donna couldn't help picturing Amy tripping in the halls of Congress. She suppressed a laugh and shook it off. Thoughts like that were to be expected when faced with the wench dating the love of your life. "We met at the…"

"Children's Right's Council. I know," Amy replied in an uninterested voice. "How are you?"

"Well thanks, and you?"

"Good," she said coldly. Liz walked out of a stall then and up to the sink as Amy walked to the paper towel dispenser and pulled a few out, drying her hands. She threw them away and then started towards the door.

"It was nice seeing you," Donna said as Amy walked out of the restroom without looking back.

Liz watched her leave as she dried her own hands. "Making new friends?" she asked sarcastically.

They walked out of the restroom not far behind Amy while Donna chuckled. "Apparently not."

"I heard she got fired after the welfare thing," Liz said quietly.

"She resigned," Donna corrected, although everyone knew that wasn't the truth. And Donna didn't feel the least bit bad for her, trying to strong-arm the Bartlet administration the way she had.

"Officially, maybe."

"You do like the DC rumor mill, don't you?"

Liz shrugged and smirked. "I don't have time for soaps. Anyway, she's working on the Stackhouse campaign now, so she's fine."

She'd heard that to and it boggled her mind. Why someone who knew Josh as well as Amy apparently knew him continually felt the need to go up against him was nearly beyond comprehension. Donna had learned in about three days of working for him that he was unstoppable. Whatever made Amy Gardner think she could or even should beat him at his own game was simply ridiculous and proved, to Donna at least, how wrong they were for each other. Of course, she doubted she'd ever meet the woman she thought was right for him.

Liz opened the doors to the main auditorium, the noise blasting out at them, and Donna started thinking of excuses she could use to leave. They pushed their way through the crowd towards Tom and Mark, who were conveniently not holding drinks in their hand, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Amy again. She looked over and stopped walking when she saw her standing with Josh.

She couldn't have stood there for more than a second before something hit her back and she looked behind her to see that Liz had walked directly into her, but it hadn't taken longer than that to practically melt at the sight of Josh wearing jeans. In the six weeks she'd know him, she'd seen him in suits and tuxedos and even pajamas, but nothing compared to him in jeans. Those rare occasions had been like Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia.

Liz gave her a look and she started walking again, but kept an eye on Josh and Amy. They were talking, screaming really, but that could only be expected with the noise volume of the concert. Still, something was off. They weren't touching at all, weren't standing close to each other, and she couldn't help the small twitch at the corner of her mouth. She and Josh had been more touchy feely than that and she'd only been his assistant.

Josh crossed his arms over his chest and Donna couldn't help turning her head and watching closer. His face was hard, his stance defensive, and a few seconds later he walked away, leaving Amy standing on the main floor with an indignant, angry look on her face. Donna's twitch turned into a full smile.

zzzzzzzzzzzzz

She woke up late the next morning, at least for her, and futzed around the apartment reading the paper and calling her mom before going out for her morning jog. But eventually she got hungry and it was either jog then or eat breakfast and wait two hours to jog, so she threw on a pair of navy shorts and a few tank tops and pulled her hair in to a pony tail as she walked down the steps. It was already hot outside, and it wasn't even ten o'clock. She didn't know how people could live in Florida; the heat would simply be too much.

After stretching, she started on her jog, heading down the street and past the Baked and Wired before turning and ending up on the Georgetown campus several blocks over. With two weeks left before classes were scheduled to start, it was mostly empty, just a few random students scattered here and there, and if it hadn't been for the heat, she would have thought it was nice. She left campus, running past the hospital and through part of Glover-Archbold Park, then turned around and retraced her steps, heading for home.

Two blocks up from her apartment, she jogged up to a stop light, leaning over and putting her hands on her knees to take deep breaths while waiting for the light to turn red so she could cross the street. She looked up, wiping sweat from her forehead, and saw Josh walking up the steps to the Baked and Wired. He was wearing sandals and khaki shorts along with a Harvard t-shirt he used to wear late at night on bus trips, and suddenly the pounding of her heart had little to do with the exercise. Her assessment the night before had obviously not been quite accurate. She thought nothing compared to him in jeans…that was obviously because she'd never seen him in shorts.

He opened the door and walked inside carrying a paper as she fought the urge to call out to him. She was still staring at the doorway a minute later when the 'walk' sign lit up and it took several seconds to tear her gaze away and cross the street to head the two blocks down to her apartment.

She started thinking about Amy Gardner then. Were they still together? Was he meeting her at the Baked and Wired? Had they been arguing the night before or had she read into what she'd seen? Were they still together or had had Amy's lack of devotion to him ended things between them? Then she shook her head. It wasn't healthy to imagine that Amy Gardner was the woman keeping her from Josh. That wasn't the case.

She got back to her apartment and went into the bathroom to wash her face. Her hair was falling out of her ponytail and she adjusted it, then went back into the living room and sat down on the couch, standing back up immediately. She paced back and forth for almost a minute, telling herself no, then went back into the bathroom and looked at herself. It clearly wasn't her best look, but it had a certain something to it that could be considered attractive. Sweaty could be sexy, right? Except her hair. Her hair looked less sexy and more 'I Dream of Jeanie,' so she pulled the pony tail out and re-did it lower on her head, purposely letting a few strands fall out of it and around her face. Then she went into the kitchen and grabbed ten dollars out of her purse before going back to check herself in the mirror one more time.

And then, even as she scolded herself, she was jogging back down the street towards the Baked and Wired, her heart pounding even more so than it had been before. About half way there she started mumbling to herself. "Stay calm, act casual. You've been out for a jog and stopped for coffee. Coffee? You don't jog and then drink coffee; you're going to make a fool of… water. You went out for a jog and you're stopping for water. It's a complete coincidence."

Suddenly she felt like a sixteen year old, she and her best friend Barb plotting a way to get Chris Brubaker to notice her, and she turned around and headed back towards her apartment. This was ridiculous. She wasn't in Josh's life anymore and she couldn't continue pretending she was. He was with Amy Gardner, maybe. Maybe not, but maybe, and the last thing she wanted was to be that pathetic girl fawning over Josh while he dated a complete and utter shrew.

The 'maybe not' repeated itself in her mind and she turned back around and headed for the Baked and Wired again. Things were different now, she reasoned. She wasn't pathetic and she wasn't a girl. She was grown-up, intelligent, successful. If she wanted Josh Lyman, she should be able to go after Josh Lyman.

She turned around again. She couldn't go after Josh Lyman! What the hell was she thinking? He didn't even know who she was. Except that he had called her Donna that Monday when she'd seen him at the dry cleaners, so maybe he had remembered her. But, maybe he just remembered it from the Shell station when she'd introduced herself.

She turned around again, finally just stopping on the sidewalk and trying to think. This was crazy. Absolutely crazy. And she was still telling herself that as she walked to the corner and into the building.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzz

She walked up to the counter, trying not to look so obviously like she was in love with a man who used to be her boss who she left and then didn't see for four years and then ran into at a Shell station, causing her to say the f-word in front of her mother and nearly have a nervous break down. She reminded herself…you've been for a jog and you're stopping for water.

She ordered a bottle of water, handing the cashier her money, then quickly added on a container of strawberries. One could jog and then eat strawberries; it would show that she's health conscious. She sighed and rolled her eyes at herself. This was a bad, bad, bad idea.

The sports page covered his face, but she'd seen him come in, so she knew the khaki shorts and maroon t-shirt, and after once again telling herself that she wasn't pathetic, she walked up to him and before losing her nerve said, "The Mets got a new manager."

He folded down the corner of the newspaper and gave her a quick glance, making her heart pound even harder. "I was just reading that."

"They're having a good year. Only three games out of first." She hoped her voice sounded stronger than it felt and that the smile on her face didn't look nervous.

"Mmm…hmm." He looked back at his paper, obviously not interested in talking to her. He probably thought she was some kind of lunatic stalker and she winced thinking he was right. What had she been thinking?

"They swept the Cubs this week," she said, fighting the urge to leave. 'Come on Josh,' she thought. 'It's baseball. Work with me here.'

"I've missed their last few games actually. I've been busy with work."

His words were innocent enough, but his tone was anything but, and she started to turn to leave. She was not going to spend the rest of her life making herself miserable. She wasn't. He was just a man; there were millions. But instead of leaving, she found herself pulling out a chair at the small table next to him and sitting down, opening her strawberries and pretending she hadn't noticed his tone. Because there weren't millions. Not for her. "Woodward's been playing well," she said with determination.

He put the corner of the paper down quickly. "What about Piazza?"

She wanted to shout, pump her fist in the air, do a victory dance. She settled for unscrewing the cap of her water and smiling at him. "He threw out two players stealing second Thursday night. It was awesome!" Thank goodness she'd been lonely enough without him to start watching his team play baseball.

He put the paper all the way down and leaned forward, his elbow on the table and his chin propped up on his hand. "Two?" She nodded. "How's he batting?"

Piazza not really being, well…cute, he wasn't one of the players she paid attention to. "He didn't get any hits. He might've been walked, I don't remember," she guessed.

"Last week he had two homeruns."

"Woodward had three," she said, baiting him into banter. It hadn't taken her long to learn how to do it on the campaign, and she marveled in how easily it came back to her.

"Woodward's no one."

"Josh, Woodward's the best player on the team!" It felt good saying his name in that playful way again.

"No way, Donna. He's got potential, I'll give him that. But he's only what, 25 years old?"

"He's a natural. Plus, he's the shortstop."

He smirked and she nearly fainted. "I'm aware of his position Donnatella. As for being the best player on the team, I'm gonna have to see that for myself."

Donnatella. He was the only one who could ever make her feel like she was flying simply by saying her name. Yet another thing that hadn't changed. And calling her Donnatella could mean only one thing; he remembered her. She wanted to scream, cry, throw her arms around his neck and tell him that she missed him, that she loved him, that she'd been miserable without him. She wanted to tell him how worried she'd been when he was shot, beg his forgiveness for not being there, thank him for living.

Instead, she forced a chuckle and went for a line she hoped would get him to mention it. "Well, your assistant should be taping the games for you when you're busy, then you'd see he's the best on the team."

And that was when it became clear. Not exactly then maybe, but as he frowned and jerked his eyes down toward the table, breathing harshly and avoiding her, it started to dawn on her. And then, when he stood up and threw his coffee cup away, and started to leave with his paper, still saying nothing, she wondered why it hadn't occurred to her in the Shell station.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, almost waiting for him to look at her with hatred and betrayal in his eyes. Waiting for him to accuse her and yell at her and tell her to get the hell out of his life and stay out.

"I've got to get to the office," he said, still avoiding even the sight of her. He turned and headed towards the door.

"Josh…"

But he kept going, and she was absolutely positive. He remembered her alright. He remembered that she left and he hated her for it.