Chapter 16

She didn't see him again for ten days, which she really thought sucked but was in reality probably a good thing. Midterms were the last week of October and she had a group case study in 'Juveniles and the Courts' that would be thirty percent of her entire semester's grade. And there was 726; the committee had sent it to the speaker to call the vote, hoping to have it pass before election day, but they still needed about 8 votes. With Sam on the campaign trail for the President and both Congressmen Allen and Wilson campaigning for themselves, she was left with most of the legwork.

As for Josh, he spent most of the week after the Taste of Washington campaigning, and had then gone to New Hampshire for the weekend to prepare the President for the debate. It was the next Wednesday, the day after the debate, when they finally got to see each other again, and even then the Mets game and Chinese food at his place had to be combined with studying for a test she had the next morning.

Meanwhile, there were phone calls and e-mails and it wasn't nearly enough. Talking on the phone, while seemingly safe, wasn't as much fun. She couldn't see his facial expressions and gestures, and she found herself wanting to read into things he said but not sure she was hearing them correctly. He was beginning to mention the future in small ways; going to a movie he heard was coming out around Christmas, getting tickets to a game when the Mets came to Baltimore the next season, proposing that when she had 726 wrapped up, they discuss federal regulations of foreign adoption. She wondered if he even realized it, and if so, if it meant even half as much to him as it did to her.

When they did have dinner at his place, she learned that his father had died not long after she left the campaign, and it brought on a whole new wave of guilt. She'd been so miserable during that time… crying nearly constantly, not eating, doing absolutely nothing social; it was one of the darkest times of her entire life. And the whole time, she'd assumed he was fine, that he hadn't needed her, that he was having a blast out on the campaign trail. But after finding out about his father, she found herself wondering how he found out, where he was, who arranged his ticket home, who pulled him in and hugged him. He would've acted so strong, like he could handle anything, like he didn't need anyone. Did anyone see through that façade?

They'd also discussed the shooting in their own way of discussing things without actually mentioning them, and she'd shyly admitted that she'd worried about him, prayed for him, sent a card. It had been during that horrible first week when she wasn't even really functioning and she couldn't remember a thing she'd written in it, but she didn't mention that. Nor did she mention that she'd been a complete wreck, that she'd almost failed one of her finals, that she'd gone to the hospital and lied to his mother so she could see him. Those were things she hoped she'd never have to tell him, because even now, as they were on the cusp of this new thing she was sure could be amazing, those memories made her feel young and naïve and pathetic.

zzzzzzzzzzzzz

The bill passed on October 24th with thirty-three votes to spare. It seemed that with only eleven days until the elections and education being such a huge subject, thirty-one members of congress had switched to yes votes at the last minute to help their campaigns. They celebrated at work that afternoon by ordering in lunch and drinking champagne, and she received calls from The Federation for Children with Special Needs, the Research Alliance for Children with Special Needs, and the National Autistic Society, as well as Senator Stackhouse and several members of the house. Her parents sent flowers and Liz bought her a bottle of wine, but she would've been lying to herself if she said that she hadn't spent the whole day excited about dinner with Josh that night.

She spent most of the day skipping around the office like she had some secret no one could know about, and Michelle finally sent her home, claiming she didn't have the energy to watch her. The extra time had only made her more excited, and she went to Piaf's to get a pedicure and manicure before going home to get ready. It hadn't been until she'd walked up to the counter to pay that she realized in all her excitement, she'd left her purse, phone and attaché case at the office, and she'd apologized profusely and asked to borrow their phone to call the office and have Liz read her credit card number to her.

She rushed home to get ready, showering and shaving and sugar scrubbing and using her favorite scented lotion before spending about twice as long as usual on her hair, then straightened up the living room and made her bed, deciding not to dwell on why that seemed important. Her stomach was fluttering and it reminded her of the second and last fundraiser she'd put together for the campaign. She'd spent all day trying to convince herself the nervousness was because of the fundraiser and not Josh, but he'd come into her room like a breeze and it had been hard to deny. And then he'd zipped up the last bit of her dress, his fingers brushing against her back, and told her in a voice she so wanted to read into that she looked stunning.

She shook off the thought and slipped into her dress; it was red and was missing most of the back and looked anything but business-like, which was exactly what she was going for. She and Liz had gone shopping Wednesday night and she'd bought it along with matching underwear for the occasion. Not that the underwear mattered, she told Liz. She just wanted to feel gorgeous. Liz had just laughed and asked once again if Donna needed her to explain the whole dating/sex thing to her.

She was almost completely ready, just finishing up her jewelry, when out of absolutely nowhere she wondered if Josh might be trying to reach her. With his schedule as crazy as it was, it certainly wouldn't be out of the question, and she'd had her home phone disconnected because she was never there to use it. She tried to shake the feeling off; he'd be there in twenty minutes, it'd be fine. Unless he'd been trying to call her since three-thirty that afternoon when she left the office. She glanced at the clock, then scribbled a quick note to him and left for the office.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

When she got back to her apartment, he was standing straight up against her building with his eyes closed, wearing a navy blue suit and not looking disheveled like he usually did after hours of work. It was a good look, a really good look. Not that the disheveled look wasn't; it was equally as appealing in a completely different way.

"Hey handsome," she said as she neared the steps.

He jerked forward in surprise, his eyes opening quickly, and she wondered what it was that could have him so deep in thought that he didn't hear her approaching in the heels she wore. "Hi," he said quietly.

She started up the steps. "I'm sorry I'm late. I…"

"It's fine. Do you need to go inside?"

She smiled brightly at him. "Nope, I'm all yours."

He nodded and walked down the steps, passing her on the third one and continuing down to the sidewalk, then walking briskly towards his car. She stood and stared at him a second before trying unsuccessfully to catch up in her heels. He reached the car and opened her door, then turned around and waited for her as she caught up. "Sorry," he said, a grimacing smile crossing his face and then disappearing.

"That's ok. You alright?"

"Yeah."

She didn't believe him. Something seemed off and she wished she could tell what it was. Once upon a time she'd been able to read him like a book. "You sure?"

He paused, closing his eyes for just a second, then stood a little taller and brighter. "Of course. I'm just starving. I hope you're hungry, this place is fantastic."

He wasn't any more convincing, but she could tell he wanted to drop the subject, so she flashed him a smile. "I'm getting the risotto."

"You've already had the risotto," he teased as he took her hand and helped her into the seat.

"Two bites. I need more," she said as she sat down and let him shut the door behind her. She watched as he walked around the front of the car, his usual walk replaced by… something she couldn't quite pinpoint, defeat maybe. When he reached his door, he stopped and took a deep enough breath that she could see it before opening the door and sitting down. He looked over at her and smiled again, a forced smile that didn't reach his eyes, then started the car and drove down the block.

It was quiet. Four blocks without a word quiet. It hadn't been that quiet between them in over a month, they tended to talk non-stop once they got going. She watched him out of the corner of her eye; his eyes glued to the road, his body stiff, his face almost haunted, and her excitement over the evening started turning into worry.

"We ended up winning by thirty-three votes today," she said at block six.

"Mmm…." he said before turning his head and glancing at her. "I heard. That's great."

"Yeah."

It was block eight, as they rounded One Washington Circle, and she didn't know why she was counting, before he spoke again. "Sam said to say hello."

She turned from the window she was looking out. "Oh, that's nice. Tell him I said hi."

He nodded. "I will."

Two more blocks and the valet was holding her door open for her. As she stepped out of the car, she looked back at Josh, gripping the steering wheel tightly enough for his fingers to turn white. She was tempted to get back in, put her hand over his and ask him to please tell her why he was upset. She'd help if he'd let her. That's all she wanted from him; to be let in.

He looked over then, his eyes meeting hers, and attempted to smile at her, seemingly determined to play the part he'd assigned himself. So she smiled back, pretending again that she didn't notice, and waited on the sidewalk for him to round the car and join her in front of the restaurant. A host held the door open for them and once they were inside, she unbuttoned her coat and Josh took it from her shoulders and gave it to the woman at the coat check. He motioned for Donna to go in front of him as they were taken back to their table, walking behind her and for the first time in a long time, not touching her back. She told herself she wasn't disappointed that he didn't mention how she looked.

Their server met them at their table, calling Josh Mr. Lyman and asking if they'd like wine. Josh looked up at Donna with questioning eyes, but it wasn't a celebration, not anymore, so she shook her head and said she'd start with water. Once they were alone again, the silence was heavy and loud and she opened her menu in hopes that it would relieve a little of the pressure. It didn't.

She tried to read the menu, but couldn't concentrate on it. They'd spoken that morning on the phone and he'd been fine; talkative, flirtatious, funny. Yet, at the moment, it seemed he'd rather be anywhere than with her. And then it occurred to her that maybe he was upset with her. She took a deep breath and leaned forward. "Are you…"

He'd been looking at his menu and quickly jerked his head up, seemingly startled by the noise, and it made her stop mid-sentence. He waited several seconds for her to finish, but she wasn't quite sure how to word the question. "Am I what?" he asked, still giving her fake smiles that made her feel like she was standing in that Shell station all over again.

"Are you… upset with me for being late?"

His eyes widened. "Donna, I'm late every time we see each other. Sometimes days late." He chuckled a bit as he said it, but it was forced and she wondered if he really thought he was pulling it off.

"You weren't late tonight." And tonight was more date-like, she wanted to add but didn't. And she thought maybe that was it. Maybe he was angry because it was a date and she'd still been late.

He took a drink of his coke. "I was actually. Five minutes."

"Still, you had to…"

"I'm not upset with you, Donna," he said with a small smile.

"You're sure, because I really am sorry. It wasn't just my phone. It was my…"

"I'm sure."

She nodded, trying to smile but failing, and looked back down at her menu just as their server walked up then and put a glass of ice water down in front of her and a coke in front of Josh. "Have you decided?" he asked them.

Josh looked up at him and then over at Donna, who nodded. "I think so."

"Ma'am," he said, turning to Donna.

She looked back into the menu she'd barely glanced at. "Which risotto do you recommend?"

He pointed to the second one. "The Risotto d'aragosta pomodori. It's served with lobster, roasted tomatoes, truffle oil and a sweet basil. It's one of my favorite things on the menu."

She nodded, thankful for the friendly voice, and considered asking him to stay for dinner. "That sounds great."

"It goes very well with the corn soup."

"Ok."

"Very well. Excellent choice." He turned to Josh. "And for you?"

"How do you make your ribeye?"

"We pan roast it and top it with a mixture of onions, frisee, and gorgonzola cheese that have been tossed with a red wine vinaigrette. It's very good."

Josh closed his menu and handed it to him. "That's fine, well done. And the house salad, please."

Their server left and like a plague, it was back. She looked up at to see Josh staring at her and she smiled awkwardly at him. He smiled back, just as awkwardly, and unfolded his napkin. "So," he asked, his voice going for but not quite achieving interest. "Did you get some calls today at work?"

She leaned back in her chair. "I did, how did you know that?"

He shrugged. "People like to say thank you."

She smiled. "It was nice. I appreciated it."

"So, what's next?"

The question startled her. Just two weeks earlier they'd discussed looking at federal regulations for foreign adoption together. "I'm not sure exactly," she said cautiously. "I'm meeting with Michelle about several things on Monday. A program called First Chance, youth prison inmate rights… foreign adoption regulations."

He nodded and silence descended once again. A minute, two, three passed and she wanted nothing more than to beg him to tell her what she'd done. She'd do anything to fix it, anything at all, if she just knew how. She could feel tears gathering in her eyes and she tried as inconspicuously as possible to dab at them with her napkin. She didn't want to do this, to break down in front of him. She wasn't hungry, wasn't enamored by this place, wasn't anything but miserable, and she just wanted to go home, pop open the bottle of wine Liz had given her, and cry herself to sleep.

Their server came soon after with Josh's salad and her soup, but she couldn't eat it. She just kind of stirred it around with her spoon as her stomach tied itself into knots.

"So, did you party hard today at work?" he asked in another fake voice a minute later.

She looked up and forced a smile she was sure was just as fake as his voice. "There might have been champagne involved."

"Getting toasted at work, I guess," he said with a faint smirk.

She really thought she might throw up, but still tried to laugh a little. "Like you aren't getting wasted at all those state dinners."

"It's a tough job."

She shook her head and the familiar silence took over again. She lifted her spoon to her mouth, but couldn't force herself to actually take the bite. And then she couldn't take it anymore. She'd tried to drop the subject, she really had, but it was the center of attention. "Are you sure you're ok?"

He looked up from his salad and smiled again. That horrible, horrible smile that made her think back to that wretched day in the Shell station. "I'm at a great restaurant with a beautiful woman. How could I be anything but ok?" He sounded almost sick to his stomach as he said it, and she couldn't take it anymore. She had to leave.

"We can do this another time, Josh," she said, looking down into her bowl.

"No," he said almost loudly, causing her took look around the room to see if anyone had noticed. "Absolutely not. This is your big night."

Her big night? This was a disaster. "I'd rather have my big night when you want to have it with me."

"Donna, I'm…"

"I know you're really busy right now," she said, trying to hold back her tears. She'd have to excuse herself to the restroom in a minute. She wouldn't make it much longer. She looked at him with her bravest possible face, her lips twitching and her voice hitching. "We should just postpone."

He put his napkin down and looked at the table and she thought finally. Finally he'd just call this what it was and let them leave before it became so bad that it couldn't be fixed. Before this became the end of them before they even started. He looked around for a second, for their server to get the check she presumed, and then looked back at her with an honest face for the first time that evening. "I had a bad day. Let's make it better."

"How?" she whispered. Because she'd do anything, anything it took.

"Dance with me," he said as he looked off to the side.

She wasn't sure she'd heard him right, but her eyes followed his to a small bar off to the side of the restaurant where she saw two couples dancing to music she couldn't hear. She stared for a second, feeling hope for the first time all night, and smiled as she looked back to where he was sitting. He was gone, but then she felt his breath on her shoulder and his hands on her chair. She nodded and he pulled it out for her and led her into the bar.

When they got to the dance floor, she watched as he took her shaking hand in his, holding it tenderly as if it were glass that could shatter. It felt amazing, safe and warm and…right, and she watched as his fingers moved softly back and forth, calming her nerves. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and they started dancing to a Tony Bennett song she'd never heard before. She looked up from their joined hands to see him studying her, but she could feel a tear threatening to slip over her bottom eyelid, so she looked past his shoulder and focused on the wall behind him, using her free hand to wipe it away before it slid down her cheek. They danced like that for a moment until he wrapped his arm further around her waist and pulled her closer. Their chests were lightly brushing against each other then and it felt even better than she'd remembered from the last time they'd danced four and a half years earlier.

She looked back at him and he smiled; a genuine smile that told her he, they, were going to be ok. Then he turned his head and their cheeks rested against each other, the soft scratch of his five o'clock shadow making her feel feminine and taken care of. His thumb started making small patterns on her back and he stopped holding her other hand, using his fingers instead to dance around the skin of palm. It felt like nothing short of heaven, and she did the same thing to him, wishing she could watch how they touched each other, but not willing to move her head and lose contact with his cheek.

"See," he whispered, his breath landing on her neck and ear. "This is much better."

She believed him. She didn't know what had been wrong, but it had disappeared from the room nearly the second they'd touched. She didn't know how that was possible, but it wasn't new exactly. They'd had the same calming effect on each other all those years ago.

The song switched and his hand on her back traveled up, meeting bare skin and making her breath catch. She wondered if it was an accident, if he'd move it back down where the dress covered her, but he didn't, choosing instead to make tiny circles there on her skin. She hadn't realized that such a simple movement could make her so warm until that very second, and she wrapped her arms further around his neck and slipped her fingers into the soft curls at the nape of his neck. "I'm sorry you had a bad day," she whispered into his ear.

He adjusted his grip, holding her a bit tighter and even closer, and she wondered what it would be like to pull back just a little bit and kiss him. "It's not bad anymore," he whispered back, which made her smile against his cheek and lay her head on his shoulder.

It was three or four minutes later when he pulled back and nodded towards the restaurant. She smiled, but was nervous that the silence they'd left at the table would be there waiting for them when they returned. He led her back to her seat, pulling the chair out for her and leaving his hand on her back even as she sat down, then dragging it up her back slowly and letting it rest on her shoulder. He leaned down to her then, still standing behind her, and in a slightly husky voice, thanked her for the dance. A smile lit her face that he couldn't see and she smiled, and only then did he lightly squeeze her shoulders and stand up to walk to his seat.

He sat down and smiled across at her, his dimples visible and his eyes warm. "That looks pretty good," he said, lightening the moment as he raised his hand and signaled their server to them.

She looked down at her risotto and then up at him. "It does. So does yours."

Their server walked up, and for the first time all evening, she wished he'd leave them the hell alone. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"Yes," Josh said, still looking at Donna. "You still prefer white wine?"

She beamed and nodded, loving that he remembered. That he seemed to remember everything about her, never having to ask or be corrected. She thought maybe that meant something, but she didn't know what and wasn't about to waste time thinking about it when he was looking at her like that.

He turned to their server. "What white wines do you recommend with the risotto?"

The young man thought for a second. "We have a wonderful bottle of 2003 Tocai Livio Felluga. It's semi-sweet, from Friuli, Italy, and accents our risotto very well."

Josh looked back to Donna with raised eyebrows and she nodded. "We'll take a bottle," he said to the server.

He nodded. "I'll get it right away."

He walked away and she leaned slightly in. "You didn't ask if it would go with you're steak."

He leaned in towards her and smirked. "How 'bout that. Did I mention that you look absolutely breathtaking tonight?"

Their eyes locked and she blushed, her alabaster skin never hiding her emotions well. "No," she said, breathless herself.

"You're stunning."

'You look stunning, by the way.' "Thank you," she said softly, glancing down as both her smile and blush grew.

He sat back, still looking at her. "You gonna try that risotto?"

Her eyes widened. She'd actually forgotten it was there. Or where they even were for that matter. She looked down at her plate and picked up her fork, looking at him one more time before taking a bite. It was incredible and she moaned just a little bit. "Wow."

"Yes?'

"Yes."

"Good," he said with a wink as their server arrived and poured them each a glass of wine.

She couldn't shut him up after that, and she didn't want to. He told her about a congressional race in California where the democratic candidate was dead, about his mother taking ball room dancing and flirting with what he liked to call the 'gomers' in her class, and about Leo and how he and Josh's father had been friends for years and that Leo had gotten him his first internship on the Hill. And she told him about the case study she was working on and her midterms the next week and her uncle's minor heart attack and how her mom had changed her father's diet after hearing about it and her father liked to call her now and complain that he never got anything fried anymore.

And before she knew it, it was 11:30. The wine was almost gone, they'd shared a piece of cheesecake, they'd danced again, and they were currently getting pretty nasty looks from their server. "We should get out of here," she said, her eyes widening with surprise at how much like an offer it sounded.

Josh didn't seem to notice, but hesitated before nodding. "Yes."

He stood up and pulled her chair out for her, then led her to the coatroom and helped her with her coat, leaning in close as he placed it on her shoulders and then gently pulling her hair out of it. The host held the door open for them and she slipped her arm through his as they walked outside and waited for the valet.

They didn't talk much on the way back to her apartment, but it wasn't the horrible, aching silence they'd endured on the way to the restaurant. It was simply quiet. NPR had switched to a light jazz and she rested her head on her seat and closed her eyes and listened to it as he tried unsuccessfully to hum along to it. It was cute, she thought. Like him.

He parked his car down the block from her building and got out, coming around to her side and opening her door for her, then offered her his hand and helped her out. Once she was standing, he adjusted his grip on her hand, linking their fingers together, and walked her to her door.

She was tempted to ask him inside and throw herself at him; she was after all, wearing new underwear that Liz claimed had a real purpose other than matching. And she'd made her bed. But her nerves got the best of her, and she quietly thanked him for the evening instead.

He paused, looking down at the ground before looking back at her. "Thank you. It was… just what I needed."

She reluctantly pulled her hand free of his so she could get her keys from her purse and unlock the door, and when she turned back to say goodbye to him, he looked at her for a second and then leaned in and kissed her softly.

It was, she was certain, the most amazing moment in her life to date. Forget the bachelor's degree or the bill passing or getting her acceptance letter to Georgetown. Each of those moments paled in comparison to the feel of his soft, warm lips pressed lightly to hers.

It couldn't have lasted more than a second or two, but it was by far the best kiss of her life. The only kiss really, at least the only one that mattered. And then his lips were gone and she smiled faintly and took a moment to memorize how it had felt. When she opened her eyes, he was looking at her again, and he looked… young and happy and… amazed, and her smile widened.

"I meant to wait on that," he said softly.

Her attention was on his lips, as if by just looking at them she could feel them again. "Why?" she breathed out, not quite having gained control of her voice.

He leaned on the building and shoved his hands into his pockets, smiling at her in that way of his that was meant to get him out of trouble. "I've got a busy ten days ahead of me. I didn't want …" He shrugged. "I don't know."

His lips were practically calling out to her, begging her to lean in and kiss them again, even as he told her he didn't mean to the first time. She loved that about him; that he hadn't meant to kiss her while he was so busy with work. At least, that's what she thought he was saying. And while it was sweet and romantic and chivalrous, what she loved even more was that he hadn't been able to help himself. She leaned into him, trying to act mature and not completely mesmerized by him, and wiped non-existent lipstick from his mouth because she just had to touch him again. "Well I've got midterms coming up. I might be pretty busy."

His kissed her thumb as it passed over his lips and the flutter was back in her stomach. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "So I hope you won't be offended if I can't spend too much time with you for the next week or so."

"No. Not at all," he said, shaking his head and smiling widely at her. "I might have to kiss you again once more before I leave though."

She would've preferred him to kiss her a hundred more times before he left, but tilted her head and smiled coyly at him. "I'm ok with that."

He put a hand on her waist and barely chuckled at her. His hand felt different than it had before; still secure, but also possessive, his fingers not quite but almost digging into her hip. It was unbelievably erotic, and she put her hand on his forearm and closed her eyes as he leaned in, waiting for those strong, soft lips to touch hers. She felt the fingers of his other hand lightly brushing over her lips and then he was kissing her again, the slightest bit stronger and more persistent.

This kiss was longer. Long enough for his fingers to barely touch her cheek before drifting down to her neck. She shivered and sighed and lightly squeezed his forearm, feeling the muscles there move beneath her fingers. She leaned into him a bit more and tilted her head, sighing again as took her bottom lip between his lips, sucking for just a second, then pulling back and kissing the corner of her mouth as he ended the kiss.

He looked at her again and she could feel a blush climbing up from her neck onto her face but didn't care. Josh Lyman had kissed her. It was a dream she thought would never come true.