He wants to kiss her again. Now, when she's happy and warm and her fingertips are gently stroking through his hair. He wants to know how she tastes when not mixed with her tears.

But he told her he'd wait. He'd let her decide when it was time. And he's almost certain that time isn't during their friends' wedding in front of two hundred members of the federal government. Not that they haven't already given the guests plenty of fodder for gossip.

The music comes to a stop, and he sees her eyes flick down to his lips before meeting his gaze again. He can practically see the wheels turning in that brilliant head of hers, but before she can speak, her assistant interrupts them, causing them to separate to a more professional-looking distance. She looks out of place here, wearing a button-up and a black skirt while everyone around her is attired in cocktail dresses and suits, but she doesn't think anything of it as she's single-mindedly focused on doing her job.

"I'm sorry, Amy, Sam…" The blonde nods toward him before redirecting her attention to her boss and murmuring something in her ear.

Amy turns her head toward him with an apologetic gaze. "Catch up with you later?"

He gives her a gentle smile. "You bet." Her eyes linger on him just a moment longer before she and Rachel head off toward the bullpen. For the third time in less than twenty-four hours he finds himself staring after the brunette as she walks away.

He sighs and heads over to the table where the majority of senior staff sits chatting with the newlyweds. Bram is off dancing with his date, so Sam plops down in his seat, draping his arm across the back of the empty chair next to him as he wonders what could be so important that Amy would be pulled away in the middle of a party involving most of the power players in DC.

The groom collapses into the seat next to him. "So…" He says, his head lolling to the side at the best man. "Interesting development."

"What?"

"What happened to her lumberjack?"

"Woodworker," Sam corrects.

"Okay."

"They broke up."

"I figured that much. Do you know why?" Sam nods. "You gonna tell me?"

"Nope." He steals Josh's beer and takes a drink.

"Okay," Josh concedes. "For what it's worth, I like you together."

Sam's eyebrows rise to his hairline. "Really?" He asks. "It's not weird for you?"

"It would only be weird if there were anything between us…" He smiles and looks over toward his wife. "And I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm kind of seeing someone," he teases. Josh looks around for a minute before looking at Sam again. "Where did Amy go by the way?"

"Rachel came and got her for something."

"Something that doesn't involve you or me or any of the rest of the senior staff on a Saturday?" Josh asks.

Sam sighs. "Yeah, that's what I'm trying to figure out," he replies.

He watches as Donna comes up behind Josh and slides her hands down his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You sick of me already?" She teases him.

"Already? Donna, it's been a decade," he jokes, taking one of her hands in his and kissing her palm.

"Still, I turn around for five seconds and you're running off to Sam."

"Says the woman who ran off to his side the second we walked into the room."

Sam wistfully watches them continue bickering back and forth. It's amazing to him that it took this long for them to realize the banter they had for all those years in the White House wasn't normal for a platonic relationship.

"Sam?"

He blinks up at Donna, who apparently just asked him something. "Sorry?"

"I said where did Amy run off to?"

"I'm guessing the office? Rachel came in about ten minutes ago. Something important, apparently." Josh and Donna sport matching confused expressions at that. "What?"

"Everyone's here," she points out. "What kind of legislative work could she possibly…" Realization dawns on her face. "Excuse me," she tells him before darting off as quickly as her wedding dress and heels will allow.

The men look at each other, Josh's brows raised, Sam's furrowed, before they go after her. When they catch up, she's looking at a list she's taken from the agent stationed at the entrance to the East Room. "Donna, what – "

"I didn't take him off the list."

"Who?" Both men ask, prompting a look from Donna. Sam gets on the same page first. "You don't think he'd show up here, do you?"

"Who?" Josh repeats.

"I mean last night I changed the seating arrangements, but I didn't even think to tell the Secret Service."

"Tell them what?" Josh, despite his political brilliance, looks entirely baffled by the conversation going on in front of him.

"Isn't there constantly one outside of your apartment? It didn't come to mind?"

Donna takes a pen from the agent and crosses out the name. "I didn't stay at our apartment last night. I stayed in the residence," she tells him.

"Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?" Josh cries, his voice rising in pitch like it does when he gets panicked.

Donna sighs. "I forgot to take Nick off the list."

"That's ridiculous; you don't forget anything."

"Well I forgot this!"

As they continue back and forth, Sam sidles away, slipping out the door and heading for the west wing.