Chapter 17

She'd meant to get up early the next morning and spend the day studying. Midterms were that coming week, one on Tuesday and two on Thursday, and she was determined not to allow the Josh thing to make grades slip. She'd already been that girl once in her life.

Early however, turned into moderately early when it took her three hours to fall asleep after her date with Josh. So when the phone rang at nine o'clock Saturday morning, it woke her and she barely opened her eyes to check the caller id before answering. "Hello?"

"Am I interrupting anything?" Liz asked in a suggestive voice.

She laughed, falling back onto her pillow and closing her eyes again. "Only my sleep."

"That's a shame."

"Not at all. I had a spectacular evening."

"You did, huh?" Liz asked in a leading voice.

She yawned reached for her glasses on the night stand. "The conversation was amazing, the food was excellent, the ambiance was wonderful, the music was soft and romantic, the..."

"I don't give a shit about any of that. You know what I'm after here."

Donna laughed and shook her head. "I don't kiss and tell."

"That's because you don't kiss!" Liz yelled into the phone.

"Au Contraire, my friend," she replied, thankful Liz couldn't see the giddy school-girl smile on her face. How it was someone thirteen years her elder could make her feel like the homecoming queen, she wasn't quite sure, but somehow he never failed to.

"You kissed?"

"We did indeed."

"Finally," Liz said in an exasperated voice. "I was about to tell you to throw this one back. Was it a peck on the cheek kiss or a get to know the inner workings of his tongue kiss?"

"I told you, I don't kiss and tell. It was amazing, that's all you need to know."

"Just because that's all you're willing to tell me doesn't mean that's all I need to know."

"So noted," she said with a chuckle, climbing out from under her down comforter and padding into the kitchen to make coffee.

"At least tell me if you were vertical or horizontal."

"I don't recall asking you any of these questions when you started dating Tom. Tom, whom you waited more than five years to have sex with, Miss 'When are you gonna get it on.'" She hit the preset button on her coffee maker and pulled a cup from the cabinet.

"That's different. Tom was going to be the last man I ever slept with. You don't want to rush a thing like that."

"Exactly," Donna said slowly and pointedly.

"Exa... ohhh… Really?"

Donna almost laughed at Liz's voice. "Really."

"So you're… you know, in… the 'L' word with Josh Lyman?"

"Madly," she said with a smile.

"Yet three weeks ago, you said you had a small inclination towards him that some could consider a very slight, almost miniscule, attraction."

"Yeah," she said, putting her coffee cup under the stream of the brewing coffee. "That was a lie."

"I knew it!"

Donna's other line beeped. "Can't get one past you. Hold on." She looked at the display. "I gotta go. That's Kelly."

"Kelly? Are you cheating on me with a new friend?"

Donna shook her head. "I'm simply doing a case study with her for 'Juveniles and the Courts.' I gotta go."

"But… what about lunch?" Liz asked, an almost panicked sound to her voice.

"What about it?"

"I called to see if you want to get Mexican."

"I'm going to gain weight during this pregnancy, aren't I?"

"La Frontera's at one."

"Kay."

zzzzzzzzzzzzzz

They talked every day that next week. He'd ask about her midterms or tell her the latest polling numbers; she'd ask how the congressional races were looking or complain about the guy in front of her driving fifteen miles under the speed limit in the passing lane. Their conversations were always brief and light and ended up with both of them laughing, and she was glad, because he sounded utterly exhausted.

They tried to meet for dinner on Tuesday night, but a meeting she had with Liz, Michelle, and the Board of Directors at the Council took longer than expected. The First Choice program she and Liz had put together two years earlier had finished its second year and fifth set of classes, and the results were better than they'd hoped for. They'd tried again on Friday for lunch, but a last minute issue with a bill had Josh rushing to the Hill to fix it, and he'd called Jonathan's and had lunch delivered to her office with an apology note for her and cheesecake for Liz.

With her midterms finally over, she started working on her case study with Eric, Carrie and Kelly. They'd chosen a landmark case in which a woman had given her child up for adoption at birth stating the father was a one-night stand whose name she didn't know, and the father had found out and sued for custody five years later. It was a great case that Donna loved, but she was glad they'd waited until after midterms to start on it, because it was proving to be quite complicated.

She spent most of that next Sunday doing research on similar cases, leaving the library around five and checking her cell as she started the drive home. Josh had called several hours earlier and then Michael had called twice. Michael never called her; they spoke exactly twice a year approximately a week after each time she registered for the next semester's classes. She briefly thought he was calling to tell her he was done paying for her school, which would've meant he lasted six semesters longer than she'd guessed he would. But then it occurred to her that maybe something happened to him or to his mom or sister and she made a mental note to call him after calling Josh.

She dialed Josh's office, hoping to get him. It never happened, but she always hoped. "Josh Lyman's office," April said as she picked up.

"April, hi," she said in a fake but polite voice. "It's Donna Moss. How are you?"

"He's in with Sam. I'll see if he has a minute," April said, ignoring her question altogether.

"Thanks," she said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. She'd never say anything to Josh, but she hadn't found even one thing about that woman that she liked.

She waited on hold for a few minutes, but with Election Day on Tuesday, she knew he was completely swamped. She pictured what his desk, his entire office actually, must've looked like, and it brought a smile to her face. Recently she'd been thinking of the first election; of sitting in front of her television until three o'clock that next morning waiting for the news channels to start calling the election in hopes of catching a glimpse of him. She still felt it even now that they'd come full circle, that dull ache she'd walked around with all those years. She didn't quite know how to let it go.

"Hey," he answered a few minutes later in a resigned voice.

"I haven't seen you in eight days."

"Believe me, I know," he said in a tired voice. She could picture him in his office, slumped over a packet of information with his tie loosened, his sleeves rolled up, his jacket off and his hair askew, and it made her smile.

"I've decided I don't care for it."

"I don't care for it much myself," he said more playfully. "We're going to have to rectify the situation."

"Yeah? How do you propose we do that?" she asked doubtfully. "You're a tad bit busy for two more days."

"I'll never make it two more days," he said almost desperately, and for the first time she found herself believing that he was in this thing as deeply as she was. It was an unbelievable feeling and she suddenly found herself fighting tears. "I'm going through withdrawal. April and Sam are about to kill me."

"Why?"

"I might be a bit on the grumpy side," he said, stressing the might. She chuckled, picturing his face contorting.

"Grumpy, huh? I am pretty hard to live without."

"You have no idea." And that soft, gravelly voice of his was back, making her shiver in anticipation.

"So, how do you propose we rectify the situation?" she asked, hoping she disguised the sound of near-begging with something more along the lines of anticipation.

"Well," he paused and she resigned herself to wait for him to sigh and say he couldn't get away. "What if I mysteriously disappeared tonight, say around… seven, only to reappear around 9:30?"

A smile started tugging her lips as her pulse started racing. Because if she was going to see Josh that evening, she might possibly get to kiss Josh that evening, and as she'd always suspected, kissing him once had only left her wanting more. "And your location during this mysterious absence?" she asked, looking down to see her hands shaking on the steering wheel.

"Someplace where I won't run into anyone from congress, the press, my staff, or Ritchie's staff."

She started thinking of restaurants in the area, but he was right; they'd just be bombarded with people wanting a minute of his time. She'd rather have him alone, and the thought of it gave her an idea. "I think I know a place just like that," she said with a smile in her voice.

"You do?" he asked with a doubtful chuckle.

"I do indeed," she said with more confidence than she felt. "There's a townhouse on Olive Street NW. It's nothing fancy, a red paisley couch and lots of plants, but they're serving a home-cooked dinner tonight."

"Home-cooked?"

She racked her mind for something other than chicken and green beans, her staple food. She needed something impressive but relatively easy, something she couldn't mess up too badly. "I believe tonight's menu is… chicken breast stuffed with feta cheese, steamed broccoli, and a salad with a light vinaigrette dressing."

"That sounds amazing," he said almost in awe.

"Yeah?" she asked, biting her lip. "Should I make you a reservation?"

"Yes," he said with determination.

She fought the urge to squee like a child and tried her best to remain calm. "Ok. See you tonight. And be nice to Sam and April."

"Yes ma'am."

She hit end and flipped the phone shut, then flipped it back open to make sure the call had disconnected. Then she started rambling to herself. She had to go to the grocery store, she had to do something with her hair, she had to clean the apartment… there were a million things to do in two hours, and the top priority was to find out how to make chicken breast stuffed with feta cheese.

zzzzzzzzzzzz

Her mom talked her through the chicken, which turned out to be easier than she thought. There was an olive oil mishap that had her changing clothes, but she tossed on shorts and a t-shirt for the time being. Once the chicken was prepared but still uncooked, she made the salad and cleaned the broccoli, then straightened up the living room and did the dishes. She was usually a neat person, but midterms and finals always brought out her inner slob.

She once again made her bed, which seemed ridiculous since he only had two hours and they'd only kissed twice, but she'd been wanting to have sex with him for going on five years, so chances were if he asked she was going to say yes.

He was late, which was a good thing, because she'd just finished putting the vacuum cleaner away when he rang the buzzer. She buzzed him in and looked at herself in the mirror; no make-up, hair in a pony tail, an old t-shirt she'd stolen from him. It wasn't her best look and she quickly washed her face as she heard him knock.

She opened the door and sucked in a quick breath at his wrinkled shirt and loosened tie. His suit coat was on but unbuttoned, and she wondered if he knew how well he wore the disheveled look. "Cute shirt," he said with a dimpled grin that led her to believe he knew exactly where she'd gotten it.

"Thanks," she said, once again amazed that he remembered so much about her. "Come in." …and kiss me, she thought. Come in and kiss me.

He took a step inside and let the door close behind him, but instead of kissing her, he just looked at her. She wondered if he was waiting for her to kiss him, and she was about to do just that when he said, "I brought flowers."

She dragged her eyes from his lips and looked down at flowers hanging upside down from his hand. "They look… nice," she said with an amused voice.

"Oh," he said and held them up for her. "Here."

Lilies. She'd lived with Michael for four years and he'd tried to win her back with roses, but she'd mentioned to Josh once in passing that lilies were her favorite, and he'd remembered four and a half years later.

"Wow," she whispered, reaching for them and brushing her fingers against his. Instead of letting her take the flowers, he linked their hands together, then leaned in and kissed her lightly. It was a short, almost questioning kiss that left her wanting more. He pulled back and she leaned into him slightly, her eyes closed and his breath on her lips. "I was hoping you were going to do that again," she whispered.

And apparently that was all the answer he needed, because he looked at her for a split second and then leaned in and kissed her like they'd been doing it forever. His lips were insistent on hers; slow and warm and wet and laced with coffee. His tongue toyed with her lips and she both moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning into his warm, toned body, and almost pushing him into the door behind him.

She twirled her fingers in his hair, a lock twisting perfectly around her index finger, and he leaned farther into the door and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his body and making her sigh.

She opened her mouth and his tongue moved slowly inside, barely brushing against hers before retreating back into his own mouth. He did this two more times, each time readjusting his mouth on hers and sucking slightly on her lip as he almost pulled away before going back in for more of her. And then his tongue slid against hers slowly, moving in circles with her, and their mouths were pressed deeper together than she thought possible.

One of his hands left her waist and started toying with her hair, eventually just pulling the ponytail out to give him more access, and she moaned again and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. He groaned and pushed his tongue back into her mouth as his hand went just slightly under her shirt, and then she was sighing and wrapping her hands tighter around his neck as she pulled away and gasped for air.

He kissed a path across her face to her jaw and then her neck, pausing at her ear and nibbling lightly. He sucked it into his mouth and she gasped his name, loving the way it sounded on her lips like that, and then he was kissing her mouth again before he pulled back and cupped her face in his hands, studying her and telling her she was beautiful.

Her body protested as she stood upright, her hands still around his neck. She smiled and pulled them down slowly, then glanced down at the floor and noticed the flowers long forgotten in a heap at her feet, and laughed.

"Oops," he said unapologetically.

She looked at him with a smile and leaned in, kissing him thoroughly again before pulling away. "I'll get a vase."

He kissed her one more time, his teeth nipping at her lips, before letting her go, and she picked up the flowers and walked into the kitchen. She got a vase from the pantry and put the lilies in it, and he took them from her and put them on the table, then poured them each a glass of wine while she put their food on plates. When he handed her the glass he'd poured for her, their fingers touched again and he whispered, "I'm gonna have to kiss you again now."

She smiled at his announcement. He'd done that the week before too, and she found it unbelievably adorable. "Let's try not to drop anything this time," she said as she leaned in the final inch, catching his lips with hers.

The glasses clanked together just a bit before he brought his hands up to her face. His thumbs brushed over her cheekbones back and forth as he kissed her again. His kisses were so slow, as if there was all the time in the world. He didn't move his head, choosing instead to kiss her the same way in the same spot over and over until her knees were weak and her lip swollen. Only then did he tilt his head and attack the other side of her mouth the same way, listening to and even matching the sounds she found escaping her.

When he pulled back, minutes later, he left his lips resting against hers, his breath hot and sexy against her skin. "We should eat," she said quietly.

"Just one more," he whispered before pulling her close and kissing her again.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

"Would you like to wash or dry?" she asked, waving a towel and a sponge at him.

He looked at her with a questioning gaze and then chose the towel. "I'll dry."

"You don't know where things go."

He shrugged. "I'll guess."

She smiled and turned on the hot water while he poured them each another glass of wine. "How's the race in Orange County going? Is Sam going to be a congressman?" she asked as she started on the silverware.

Josh leaned against the front of the counter. "He's in denial. They're down by four points and he's pretending it's more like fourteen." She handed him some spoons and he dried them and then started rooting around her kitchen drawers.

"Two drawers down." He put them away and left the drawer open then came over and took the forks from her hand while kissing her neck. She smiled and started washing a salad bowl.

"You know," he said. "When you meet my mom, you have to tell her I helped with the dishes. She'll never believe me."

A rush of excitement over his use of the word 'when' instead of 'if' hit her just as a feeling of dread came over her at meeting the woman she'd lied to in order to see him in the hospital. "Well, when you meet my mom, you'll have to tell her I didn't ruin the chicken."

He leaned in close to her and took the bowl. "I loved the chicken," he said softly before kissing her nose. She smiled and he winked at her before searching cabinets one by one. She watched him without saying anything, finally laughing when he turned to her and pathetically whined, "Help."

"You should've washed," she said smiling as she pointed to another cabinet.

He put the bowls away and came back to the sink, kissing her on the neck again while she washed a larger bowl that held the broccoli. "But this way I can kiss you and you can't stop me, cause your hands are wet," he mumbled into her skin.

She shook her head but smiled. "If I wanted to stop you, which I don't, wet hands wouldn't keep me from doing it." He smirked at her and she leaned over and kissed him on the lips.

"Are you succumbing to my charm?" he asked playfully as he took the bowl from her hands and dropped it back into the sink. His hands on her neck gently turned her until she was between him and the counter.

She watched his eyes as they watched his fingertips tracing over her lips. They turned from playful to dark and intense, and it made her feel sexy and wanted and she wrapped his tie up in her fingers and pulled his face down closer to hers. "Yes," she whispered, capturing his bottom lip between hers and nipping it lightly before deepening the kiss.

He made the sexiest noise she'd ever heard in her life and moved his hands down to her waist, brushing his fingertips up and down her sides, coming close to but never quite touching her breasts. Her arms slid up his chest and back around his neck, and he leaned into her and moved his mouth from hers back to her ear. She'd never known her ear to be a hotspot for her, but for the second time that night, she'd gasped his name as he'd pulled her earlobe into his mouth.

"Is this ok?" he whispered and she had no idea if he was talking about the kissing or the ear or his hands on her body, but it was all perfectly ok with her and she whispered yes and kissed his neck.

They continued kissing until they were both out of breath and his forehead was resting against hers. He pulled back and smiled at her and she toyed with the dish towel that was draped over his shoulder. "You put my bowl back in the sink. Now I have to re-wash it."

He grinned a huge dimpled grin at her. "I'm really sorry."

She couldn't help smiling at him. "You don't look sorry."

"How 'bout that."

She leaned in and kissed him lightly just as her cell phone rang. "My niece had her first piano recital tonight," she mumbled. "She promised to call me with details. I should get that."

He kissed her on the forehead and she grabbed his towel and dried her hands as she walked into the living room and pulled her cell out of her purse. She looked at the caller id and winced. She was not in the mood to deal with Michael, but if it was important enough to warrant three calls in one day, she figured she should take it. Sighing, she answered. "Michael, hi."

"Hi. How are you?"

"Busy but good," she said, hoping he'd take the hint. "You?"

"Fine, thanks," he said uneasily before pausing. "Donna, I need… is next semester your last?"

"I haven't decided yet," she said, even though it wasn't the complete truth. She'd graduate in May, but would still have to take the bar exam. Each summer, the college offered a bar prep coarse, and she'd been considering it even though she loathed summer classes.

"When do you register for spring classes?"

"Next week."

"Ok. Can you fax me the bill as soon as you get it? I'm not trying to be an ass, but Tina and I are getting married in February and she's not… comfortable with our arrangement."

She wanted to ask if Tina was comfortable with the fact that the two of them weren't paying off a hundred thousand dollars in student loans, but she took a deep breath instead. "I'll be home in three weeks, let's talk about it then."

"Yeah, ok. Give me a call when you get to town."

"Alright, I'll talk to you soon. We'll figure it out."

He said goodbye and hung up, and she looked at the display for just a second before dropping the phone into her purse and walking back into the kitchen. Josh was leaning against the counter and hadn't done a single thing without her. "You know, I wouldn't have minded if you'd just kept going with the dishes," she said, hoping she sounded less on edge than she felt.

He looked up at her. "What?"

"Never mind, it was a joke. How 'bout you wash and I dry now so I can sneak kisses of your neck?" She leaned in and kissed him, and he jerked back and away from her, stumbling against the counter and staring at her like he was in shock. "Are you ok?" she asked as she reached for his shoulder.

"Don't touch me," he said in a harsh voice.

"What?" she asked, surprise written in her eyes.

"Don't touch me."

She took a step back to give him room. Something was wrong and she thought maybe he was going to be ill. "Ok. Josh," she said quietly. "What's wrong?"

He looked away from her off towards the wall, but didn't move away from the counter. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" she asked, confused.

"Touching me? Pretending you…"

"What?"

He looked back at her and stared at her, the same dead eyes he'd had when she'd run into him and Sam at lunch earlier that summer. "Why are you leaving me again?" he asked in a choked whisper.

She shook her head. "What are you talking about?"

"I heard you Donna," he said softly. "I heard you tell him you'd be home in three weeks. I heard you say it. Why are you leaving mefor him again?" he almost begged to know.

Her heart broke at the sound of his voice and the word 'again.' They'd never discussed it; her leaving was on their unspoken taboo list and she'd hoped to leave it there. "Josh, I'm not…"

"Yes you are," hesaid loudly, startling her and making her jump a bit. "You're leaving again! For him! For that bastard! Why?" He stopped shouting and looked at her before whispering. "Why?"

She needed to tell him that she loved him, that she'd never leave him again. That she shouldn't have left him the first time. That it had been a mistake and she'd been miserable and broken for years. But those were the things she was most afraid of saying. Those were the things she'd never said aloud, not even to her mother, and she didn't know how to voice them. "He's not a bastard, Josh," she found herself saying instead.

"Don't!" he said through gritted teeth. "Don't defend him to me."

"You don't know anything about him," she said, shaking her head. But it didn't come out right; she meant to say that he meant nothing to her, that he was just a means to an end. She meant to make him understand that he wasn't a threat, that he wasn't anything to her anymore.

"I know he used you. I know he cheated on you."

Shock hit her like a bullet. She tilted her head and whispered. "No he didn't."

"Yes he did."

"No, Josh," she said, shaking her head. "He didn't cheat on me. We had a fight, a string of them actually, and broke up." This wasn't important. Michael wasn't important. She had to… she had to say it. He was hurt and angry and had every right to be, and she was making it about Michael when it had nothing to do with him. She took a tentative step towards him, shaking and fighting tears. "Josh, why is this coming up now? Why are you bringing up the past? Because he called? I'll tell you what we talked about, it's not a secret."

"I know what you talked about," he said with venom in his voice. "You talked about the fact that you're leaving me in three weeks."

"No," she said adamantly. She reached out for him again and he jerked away, sliding out from between her and the counter and walking to the other side of the kitchen.

"Yes," he said, withdrawn. "Yes."

"I'm not…"

"Will you be back Donna?" he asked, cutting her off and looking directly at her. "Someday, just when I think I'm going to be able to live a normal life without you, will you come back to pull me in again? With your smile and your eyes and that way you have of…" he stopped abruptly, choking on his words. "I'm so pathetic. I almost hope you do."

He was saying something, something important, but she was crying and confused and couldn't quite dissect it. "Josh, I don't understand…"

"Of course you don't understand," he yelled. "How could you? How could you know what it's like to… to walk into your office one day and find that note? To have everything change in mere seconds. To not understand what…" He stopped again, taking several breaths and looking away from her before whispering. "What I did to make you leave."

He stood there, shaking and angry and hurting in a way she'd never seen before, wanting to be anywhere in the world than there with her. And she'd done that to him; made him think for years that he hadn't been enough. That she'd left for someone better. That was why he hated Michael so much. There was more too, but she couldn't put it together. All she could think of was that she'd left him to save herself, and in the process she'd done the one thing in the world she never wanted to do, she'd hurt him. She could feel tears sliding down her face, but she ignored them and walked up to him, slowly, trying not to startle him, and after pausing for just a second, she put her hands on his cheeks and tilted his face up to hers. "You didn't do anything. You were amazing," she whispered fiercely. "Amazing."

His eyes met hers and his changed instantly. He turned his head and pulled away from her, then took a step backwards. "I have to leave."

"Josh, don't," she said, wrapping her hand around his arm. "Please don't."

He pulled away again and walked into the living room. "I have to."

She couldn't let him go. Couldn't let him walk out of her life. She couldn't lose him again, she'd never live through it. "Why?" she pleaded. "Why do you have to? Because I did? Because I left? "

He spun around and looked at her. "No," he said adamantly, all traces of anger out of his voice. He reached his hand up and brushing her cheek with his thumb. His voice got softer as he stood closer to her, and she could feel herself shaking. "No. No, that's not why."

"Then why?" she asked through her tears.

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, and she wrapped her hand around his forearm and thought for just a second that everything would be ok. Then he looked at her. "Because you're crying and I did that to you and I won't keep doing it."

She gripped him tighter and shook her head. "They're just tears Josh. They don't matter. Let's fix this. We're building something wonderful here. I don't want to lose it. I don't want to lose you, not again." She was begging him then, desperate for him to stay. Desperate to make him see that she needed him.

He shook his head. "I can't stay here and hurt you."

Tears became sobs. "It'll hurt more if you leave," she whispered.

"I'll be back," he said, resting his palm against her tear stricken face.

"Don't go," she begged, breaking down, her chest heaving and her whole body shaking.

"I have to," he said he said gently, his own eyes red with unshed tears. "I have to go and fix this… I have to go. I know you don't understand and I promise I'll explain it. I promise. But I have to go."

She turned her head and kissed his palm. "Please don't."

He leaned in, pulling her face to his, and kissed her softly as he continued wiping her tears away with his thumb. She put her arms around his neck, holding onto him as tightly as she could, and tried to deepen the kiss, to pull him in and never let him go, but he pulled back and away from her again. "I'll be back," he whispered again, kissing her knuckles before dropping them, then picking up his jacket and leaving.

She watched the door close, then sank to the floor, sobbing.