It was more then lucky for Josh that the night before was the last in this city. He would've had to get a new room, probably had to get a new hotel, if he was forced to sleep alone in that bed. He had cried in the shower. He had pretended that he wasn't crying, pretended that the shower was the only flowing water but his eyes were red as he got out and they stayed that way for most of the day. He had thrown all of his things in his bag and brought it downstairs to the staff meeting. People were concerned when they thought they were leaving earlier then planned and several panicked staffers questioned his decision to bring his stuff.

The truth was of course that he couldn't bare to step foot in the room. He said he just wanted to focus on work and that everyone would still have time to pack up before the evening flight. He laughed bitterly to himself at how his actions influenced so much on this campaign. He had so much power over so many people and yet the one he wanted more then anything apparently wanted nothing to do with him.

His mood for the day was pretty normal. He was quite and solemn but when asked a question he would respond with perfect political strategy and when he heard a bad idea he still had the strength to shout in horror at whatever campaign staffer had dared to speak it. That was how he functioned both that day, and the 3 weeks that passed since it happened.

He started to question whether it really did occur. He started to question if it had all just been this dream that he had one night, and that unlike all the others dreams he'd had with her in it, this one was just more real and realistic. There were a few times when he'd see Leo at some function or another and he would want to ask: Was I there? Were you there that morning? Was she really there?

He was too afraid of the answers to even speak to him.

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Donna wasn't any better. Her campaign team had stayed an extra day at the Lazy Days Inn over a half an hour away from what she liked to refer to as "ground zero". This was fine because it meant Donna actually slept in the bed that the Russell campaign had paid for. She wouldn't want to waste the "Bob's Boulders" money or anything. She prayed to God that no one knew she hadn't been there the night before (no one but Josh of course). No one had seemed to notice any sort of change in her. She was determined not to let the event change her. "After all", she would reason to herself, "I have had one-night stands before, I have had "tipsy sex" before, I have even had sex in cheap hotel chains before". This was no big deal. At least that is what she told herself over and over again: it was just sex, it was just that one time, it is no big deal.

As the weeks went by Donna felt herself more and more drained from the campaign trail. The Democratic convention was just around the corner and she honestly didn't think she was going to make it. She felt as though her heart wasn't in it anymore (like it was left behind at the Howard Houston Inn) and the only thing that could make it better was fried chicken. She was eating a worrisome amount of fried chicken. She stopped drinking coffee even though she was exhausted because it left a strange taste in her mouth and the straw that broke the camels back for the entire Russell staff was when they had to pull the bus over for the third time in a four hour time frame for Donna to use the rest room.

Will had told her to go back to D.C. to get some rest and to join them when the real campaign kicked off. He told her they would need her wit and wisdom to defeat Vinick and that she may be the secret weapon to get Josh to help them out once Santos went down in flames. What Will had meant to be a little joke caused the color to fade from Donna's face and she almost past out. Will demanded that she go to the doctor and Donna said she would.

She lied. She went home and sat on her couch for two weeks working from her apartment crafting strategy and watching debates and speeches from all of the candidates. She worked harder in DC then she did on the bus since most of the time traveling was spent goofing off. At home Donna was focused and had a bathroom nearby. She decided that it was perfect fit.

On the third night of the Democratic Convention she sat on her couch and cried her eyes out. She wasn't sure exactly sure why she was so emotional, she didn't love Russell or anything (hmm love). She guessed she was a mess because she didn't know where her life was heading. Two days after that she had a pretty good idea that it was heading towards certain disaster. She was walking out of her doctor's office with the positive test results and spotted the one and only Josh Lyman out strutting the streets. He saw her, she knows he did, and he pivoted right there on his heels and took off the other way. Donna blinked back the tears and turned to go home to an apartment she would be giving up within the month.